Old Bailey Proceedings.
11th December 1905
Reference Number: t19051211

ActionsCite this text | Print-friendly version | Report an error
Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
11th December 1905
Reference Numberf19051211

Related Material


Sessions Paper.







(For many years with the late firm of Messrs. BARNETT & BUCKLER, Official Shorthand Writers to the Court.)



Law Booksellers and Publishers.



On the King's Commission of



The City of London,





Held on Monday, December 11th, 1905, and following days.

Before the Right Hon. WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WALTER PHILLIMORE , Bart, one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, Bart.; Sir JOSEPH RENALS, Bart., K. C. M. G.; Sir ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., K. C., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOHN CHARLES BELL , Knt.; Sir THOMAS VEZEY STRONG , Knt., and WILLIAM CHARLES SIMMONS , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; and His Honour Judge RENTOUL K.C., Commissioner, His 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 the prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.


OLD COURT.—Monday, December 11th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-69
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

69. HENRY HOLMES (44) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 10s. 6d., the moneys of Fred James Pile, from his person, having been convicted of felony at the Clerkenwell Sessions on March 8th, 1904. Fourteen other convictions were proved against him, dating from 1867. Eighteen months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-70
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(70.) ALFRED ANDERSON (41) to stealing a watch and other articles, the goods of Emily Race; also to stealing a watch and other articles, the property of Annie Lawrence; also to stealing a pair of spectacles, a purse and 3s. 6d., the goods and moneys of George Edwards; also to stealing a reading glass, the property of Albert Coldman, having been convicted of felony at the Court House, Tottenham, on October 20th, 1904, as Alfred St. Clair . One other conviction was proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]—

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-71
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(71.) CHARLES EDWARD McGREGOR (34) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing orders for the payment of 5s. and 2s., the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]—

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-72
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(72.) CHARLES WILLIAM HODSON (47) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing an order for the payment of 4s., the property of the Postmaster General; also to stealing a letter containing a postal order for 2s. 6d., the property of the Postmaster General. Six months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-73
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(73.) ALFRED HARVEY LEVELL (36) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing a postal order for 3s., the property of the Postmaster General. Six months' hard labour. —; [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-74
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(74.) WILLIAM ARTHUR PIPER (28) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing a postal order for the payment of 6s., the property of the Postmaster General. Six months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-75
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(75.) ALBERT EDWARD CUTLER (32) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing two florins and a silver match box, the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-76
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

(76.) ALFRED WILSON (34) to stealing an envelope, a sheet of paper and an order for the payment of £1 4s. 11d., the property of Geofrey Weister and another; also to stealing an envelope, a sheet of paper and an order for the payment of £1 14s., the property of John Edward Phipps and another; also to stealing an envelope, a sheet of paper and an order for the payment of £5 17s., the property of Tissage Mec de Soieris (Adisweil); also to unlawfully attempting to steal divers goods, the property of John Francis Snow and another, having been convicted of felony at this Court on April 20th, 1896, in the name of James Clarke . Several other convictions were proved against him, going back to 1886. Five years' penal servitude. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-77
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(77.) GEORGE ASHBY (25), THOMAS HART (32), and GEORGE ALLDRIDGE (38) to feloniously breaking and entering the shop of Richard Dunster and stealing three pairs of boots, his goods. ALLDRIDGE also to unlawfully assaulting Samuel Crocker and Albert Spielmann with intent to resist his lawful apprehension, and occasioning him actual bodily harm. ASHBYand HART— Twelve months' hard labour each. ALLDRIDGE— Eighteen months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-78
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(78.) GEORGE EAST (25) to feloniously breaking and entering a shop of R. & J. Beck, Ltd., and stealing therein three measuring instruments, their goods, having been convicted of felony at this Court on April 22nd, 1901, as Daniel Sullivan . Six months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-79
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

79. GEORGE ACKERMAN (29), and DAVID GUTTERIDGE (28) , Stealing a bag, a suit of clothes, and other articles, the property of Charles Henley.

MR. LE MAISTRE Prosecuted.

CHARLES HENLEY . I am a stoker on the Hampshire at Portsmouth, and am in London on leave—on December 4th, in the evening, I met the prisoners in a public-house and they invited me home to supper at their house at 22c, Storey Street—one of them recognised me as an old school-fellow and I recognised him—I had this bag with me (Produced), containing some clothes—after I had been at the house I went out to get some drink and paid for it, and when I came back I could not see my bag—I asked the prisoners about it and they said they knew nothing of it and I had not Drought anything in with me—they struck me, and I have got a black eye now—I went for a constable, who came back with me, and the prisoners told him that I had never brought anything in with me—I saw the constable find my clothes in the back room under the bed—I followed him in—when the prisoners struck me I took my own part.

Cross-examined by Ackerman. I took the bundle into the house myself—when your wife came in I did not touch her; you did not say, "What are you doing?"and I did not knock your head through a window, and we did not go downstairs and have a fight for three or four minutes—Gutteridge is my old schoolfellow.

JAMES SAREN (260 Y.) On December 4th the prosecutor came to me and made a complaint and I went with him to 22c, Storey Street, Islington—I asked the prisoners for the bag of clothes which belonged to Henley and they both said they had not seen one—I asked them if they had any

other room than the one I was in and they both replied there was no other room—Gutteridge went away to another room on the same floor at the back—when he went in he looked under the bed—I also looked and saw some clothing there—I told the prisoners I should take them into custody for an assault upon the prosecutor and stealing the clothing—Gutteridge said, "You do not want to make a d—fuss about a job of this kind"—Ackerman was the worse for drink, but Gutteridge was sober—the prosecutor was then perfectly sober.

By the COURT. Ackerman was not incapable and I should not describe him as very drunk, but he had had more than was good for him—I think I said at the station that they had been both drinking and Ackerman was the more drunk of the two.

C. HENLEY. (Recalled). I did not go into the back room at all and I did not know that that room was in Gutteridge's occupation—the only room I knew of was the front room.

Ackerman's statement before the Magistrate: "We stood in the road and had a fair fight."

Evidence for Ackerman.

ANNIE ACKERMAN . I am the prisoner's wife, and on this Monday night I went to meet my husband at 5.40—he is a coal porter—on the way home we had a few drinks and went into the Pembroke Arms, when the prosecutor came in and called for a soda—he turned round to my husband and said he had been drinking since 9 a.m.—he put his kit on the ground at my feet and asked my husband if he would have a drink—he turned to Gutteridge and said, "Don't I know you?"who said, "Yes"—they had a few words and called for two pots of ale—the governor in the bar said he did not think they required two pots and he gave them one pot and gave me some whisky—we went out and I picked up the sailor's kit and carried it out—he said, "Come into the Salisbury," and my husband said, "No, I am tired"—the sailor asked where we lived and I said the second house—we went home and I am not sure when we got upstairs if I put the kit on the foot of my bed in the front room—the sailor gave me 3s. to get some supper and he and Gutteridge went out and got some more drink, my husband being asleep in the chair—when the sailor, and Gutteridge came back the sailor caught me round the waist and kissed me—my husband got up and said, "Don't take no liberties with my wife"—they had a bit of a struggle and the sailor went to hit me, and instead of doing that his head went through the window—they went downstairs and had a fair fight—I got my husband upstairs, when in comes the sailor and a policeman—Gutteridge walked out of my room then and the policeman followed him, and the kit was found under the bed—I do not know how it got there—the policeman saw Gutteridge unlock the door, but I did not—nobody else except the prosecutor, the prisoners and myself, were in the room except my little children.

J. SAREN (260 y.) (Re-examined by the COURT). The key of Gutteridge's room was in the lock outside—the door was locked—he turned the key and walked in.

Gutteridge's defence. "I do not know how the key came there at all. The key was in the door when I came home from doing half a day's work.

ACKERMAN NOT GUILTY . GUTTERIDGE GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on August 9th, 1904. Two other convictions were proved against him. The police stated that he was a very violent man and associated with convicts. Twelve months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-80
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

80. GEORGE ACKERMAN (29) and DAVID GUTTERIDGE (28) were again indicted for assaulting Charles Henley and occasioning him actual bodily harm.

MR. LE MAISTRE , for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.


11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-81
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

81. ERNEST CHARD (33) , Stealing a case containing ninety-five dozen braces, the property of John Eustace Corvell.

MR. G. L. HARDY Prosecuted.

CHARLES HENRY FERN . I am a warehouseman in the employment of John Corvell at 1, Fell Street—on November 17th I was in Wood Street about 4.30 p.m., and at the corner of Fell Street and Wood Street I saw the prisoner wheeling a trolley with a case on it which I identified as having been lying in our doorway—I ran quickly to the doorway and saw the case was gone and I then followed the prisoner up Wood Street, and when I saw a constable I had him stopped—the constable asked him where he was going; he said a man had told him to bring it up here—we took him back to the premises and I identified the goods—they were ninety-five dozen French braces, value about £40—we were going to unpack them—I saw no other man—the prisoner was about twenty yards from our place.

PAUL LENGUS SKINNER . I am employed by Emmille Kaise at 9, Hart Street, who is an importer—this trolley is his (Produced)—our place is about five minutes' walk from the prosecutor's place—on November 17th I saw the trolley in our doorway in the afternoon, about 4 p.m.—I next saw it when the police showed it to me.

WILFRID PRAGNELL (475 City). At 4.40 p.m. on November 17th I was on duty in Wood Street when Mr. Fern pointed out the prisoner to me wheeling a case on a truck and asked me to stop him—he was about a hundred yards from the prosecutor's place—the prisoner said he was taking it up the street for a gentleman—I said, "Where?"—he said, "I do not know; just up this way"—I took him back and found the case had been stolen and also the truck from a place close by—I took him to the station—I had not seen any gentleman there, but the prisoner said he had been walking along by his side.

The prisoner's defence. "The man made off when he saw the police. I was taking it up for a gentleman and I did not know it was stolen or I should not have done it."

GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the North London Sessions on April 6th, 1897. Two other convictions were proved against him. Fifteen months' hard labour.

NEW COURT, Monday, and

THIRD COURT, Tuesday, December 11th and 12th, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-82
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

82. HENRY JAMES HODGES (26) and GEORGE DURBRIDGE (23) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering to Ellen Tunnel a counterfeit florin, knowing it to be false, and with having on the same day uttered another counterfeit florin to the same person, knowing it to be false and counterfeit. Seven previous convictions were proved against Hodges and five against Durbridge. HODGES— Twelve months' hard labour. DURBRIDGE— Nine months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-83
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

83. ELIZABETH FOSTER (67), Obtaining by false pretences from the London Joint Stock Bank, Limited, and Roland Yallop, the sum of £819 with intent to defraud, and unlawfully receiving the said moneys, well knowing them to have been unlawfully obtained (See page 65).

MR. MUIR, on behalf of the Prosecution, offered no evidence.


11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-84
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Miscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

84. CHARLES JONES (27) and ELSIE HAYNES (26) , Feloniously possessing a mould upon which was impressed the obverse side of a shilling JONES PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

WILLIAM BURRALL (Sergeant X.) About 3 a.m. on November 8th, in company with Inspector Fennimore and Detective Hutt, I went to 15, Sirdar Road, Notting Dale, which is a house let out in furnished apartments—Fennimore went to the rear of the house and Hull and I knocked at the door, which was opened by Jones—we went to the back room on the ground floor, where Fennimore joined us—we found Haynes in bed—Jones was undressed, having only just got up—I told him we were police officers and were about to search the place—Fennimore and I then searched the room—Fennimore found a shilling mould in the oven and gave it to me—Haynes was awake in bed the whole time—I found this quantity of antimony in a piece of paper (Produced) on a shelf close by the mantel-piece—I conveyed Jones to the station, when on searching him I found a piece of antimony and a counterfeit florin.

By the COURT. I heard the other officer draw Haynes attention to some money on the mantelpiece, to which she replied that all the money belonged to her and not Jones.

Haynes. "I did not know as he was doing bad money, and I did not know that the bad money was on the shelf."

JOHN FENNIMORE . (Inspector X.) On the morning of November 8th I went to this house with Burrall and Hutt—on arriving there I looked through the kitchen window on the ground floor and saw Jones get out of bed and go to the fireplace and shift something—he then went and opened the door to the other officers—Haynes was lying in bed—I went round to the door and entered the room and joined the other officers—I found this mould (Produced.) in the oven—I took it out and handed it to Burrall, who was scraping the fire out at the time; there had been a

fire—I found this pot (Produced) in the fireplace with a piece of white metal in it—the prisoners were taken to the station—I locked the room and kept the key—on returning there and making a further search I found some plaster of Paris and some portions of a mould in a tin in a cupboard on the left-hand side of the fireplace, and a file on the mantel-piece—I have not ascertained whether the pieces of mould found are all pieces of one mould—underneath the floor boards inside the fireplace I found this piece of metal where it had been poured out of some pot through a hole in the floor which was there—Burrall and Hutt found same money on the mantelpiece—Hutt said,! "Whose money is this?" and Jones said, "It belongs to the missus" whereupon Haynes said, "Yes, all of it."

THOMA HUTT (Detective X.) I was with the other officers on this day and took part in the search of the room occupied by the prisoners—on the mantelpiece I found 1s. 6d. in silver and 7 1/2 d. in bronze, good money (Produced), and one counterfeit shilling (Produced), and on the sideboard a small packet of antimony (Produced)—I said to Jones, "Is this your money?"and he said, "No; it belongs to the missus"—I asked Haynes, "Is this your money?"and she said, "Yes"—I said, "All of it?"and she said, "Yes"—I took Haynes to the station, where she was charged, to which she made no reply.

By the COURT. While Jones was being spoken to about the mould found Haynes said, "Yes, I have seen him using it."

HARRY WILLIAMS . I live at 23, Sirdar Road, Notting Dale, and am the deputy lodging-house keeper for Mr. Hurst, the landlord of 15, Sirdar Road; he lives at No. 13—No. 15 is let out in furnished apartments—I know the prisoners as occupying the back parlour on the ground floor at 5s. a week—the rent was paid—they were there three or four weeks before they were arrested—sometimes Jones paid me, and sometimes Haynes.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—this is a single mould for making counterfeit shillings—this counterfeit shilling has been made in the mould—these are two counterfeit shillings, a file, a knife, and a saucepan, some antimony, plaster of Paris, being all articles such as are found in the general stock-in-trade of a coiner—I have not seen these pieces of mould before—they are pieces of a mould that has been destroyed; there are no marks upon them—the coins are of rather rough manufacture.

GUILTY . Three previous convictions were proved against JONES— Three years' penal servitude. HAYNES— Discharged on recognisances.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-85
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

85. JOSEPH BRIANT (20) , Feloniously possessing a mould for making a counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

EMANUEL CARTER (Sergeant 72 X.) About 8 p.m. on November 8th, in company with Atkins, I went to 17, Sirdar Road, Notting Dale, which is a house let out in furnished apartments—we went to the door of a room

on the first floor front and knocked—the prisoner said, "Who is there?" and I said, "It is all right; open the door"—the door was not opened, so I pushed it open; it was fastened by a small catch inside—on seeing the prisoner I told him we were police officers and he said, "Where is your authority?"—I pointed to some white metal on the table and told him 1 should arrest him for making counterfeit coin—he said, "You will find nothing here"—I noticed the bed was disarranged and on unfolding the counterpane I found this mould (Produced)—I showed it to the prisoner and he said he did not know it was there—Atkins and I took him to the station, and on the way he said, "If my pal comes back, don't lock him up; he don't know anything at all about it"—as soon as we had got to the station Atkins went back to the house—before questioning the prisoner I saw some white splashes of metal on the table.

JAMES ATKINS (614 X.) On November 8th I accompanied Carter to this house and was there when the prisoner was arrested—after he was taken to the police station I went back to the house and made a search—I found a piece of white metal, a pair of scissors and a file amongst the cinders in the grate (Produced)—there was a fire when I went there first—I also found a saucepan and two packets of plaster of Paris on the table (Produced) and this teaspoon and fork with some metal attached to the end of it, and two pieces of glass—I was present when he was charged, and he made no reply.

HENRY WILLIAMS . I live at 23, Sirdar Road, Notting Dale, and am the deputy lodging-house keeper for the landlord of No. 17, Mr. Hurst—I know the prisoner as living with another man at No. 17 for about three or four weeks at 6s. a week—sometimes they paid 1s. a night or 1s. in the morning, paying daily—they did not pay for Sunday—while collecting rent I have seen the prisoner there three or four times.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I had only seen you a week before you were arrested—the other man was there before you.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—this is a single mould for a shilling—I see before me a saucepan, a piece of molten metal, spoons, a fork, two packets of plaster of Paris and two pieces of glass on which they make the mould, with some plaster of Paris on them, all of which articles form part of the stock-in-trade of a coiner.

By the COURT. This grease in this pot (Produced) is what they put on the coins to keep them from rubbing.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not know the moulds were there."

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that a week before he was arrested he arranged to share the room of a stranger who sold papers as he did; that he did not know of any mould or metal; that there were always two or three packets of plaster of Paris about, but he did not know what it was used for; and that when saying, "Don't lock my pal up when he comes back" he was not referring to his co-lodger, but to a friend whom he was expecting.

GUILTY . Eighteen months' hard labour. The Jury commended the police in the case for their conduct.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-86
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

86. JOHN SMITH (32) and WILLIAM JOHNSON (25) , Unlawfully uttering a counterfeit florin, knowing it to be counterfeit. SMITH PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

FLORENCE WILSON . I am employed at the Red Lion, John Street, Clerkenwell, by the Sessions House—about 10 p.m. on November 17th Johnson and Solomons (See next case) came into the bar—Johnson asked for a pony of bitter and a pony of Burton, price 1d. each—Johnson gave me a bad florin—I should say this is it (Produced)—I tested it in acid and it made the black mark which is on this coin—I gave it to them back and asked them if they knew it was bad—Johnson said he did not know it was bad, and that he knew where he got it from—he then asked Solomons if he had any coppers on him and Solomons produced 2d.—they drank their beer and went away—I spoke to the manager, who was in the other bar, and he followed them out.

JAMES CUNNINGHAM (Detective Sergeant G.) On the evening of November 7 the I was in John Street, when I saw the manager of the Red Lion, who made a communication to me—he pointed out Johnson and Solomons, who I had seen leave the public-house—I followed them alone—they passed along John Street, going in the direction of the Northampton Institute—opposite Rosebery Avenue they were joined by Smith and they all began talking—they seemed to be friendly—this was about 200 yards from the Red Lion—I saw Smith take something from his right-hand pocket, turn it over as if he was looking at money, and hand it to Johnson according to my impression—they then went to the Coach and Horses, which Johnson and Solomons entered—I spoke to a police officer to detain Smith—whilst I was so engaged Johnson and Solomons left the public-house and passed by Smith—I caught hold of them, one in each hand, and said, "I have reason to believe you are passing counterfeit coin"—they made no reply—I took them back to Smith, and in the presence of all of them I again said, "I have reason to believe that you are passing counterfeit coin, and I shall take you into custody"—again they made no reply—I took them to King's Cross Road police station with the assistance of a passer-by—they said nothing on the way—at the station I searched Smith in the presence of Johnson and Solomons and I found in his trousers pocket a counterfeit florin, dated 1873—he said in their hearing, "Oh, I did not know I got that. The other money," referring to 17s. 6d. in good money, "is good"—he had about 2s. 3 1/2 d. in coppers; and ten shillings and sixpences, and one shilling without a sixpence, to correspond—he was then taken to a cell—I afterwards found in the pan of the water closet in that cell a broken counterfeit florin—I found upon Johnson 5s. 6d. in silver made up of one florin, three shillings and one sixpence, and 4d. bronze, all good money, and on Solomons 11s. in small silver and 9/2d. bronze, good money—Smith and Johnson both stated that they lived at a Rowton House in Vauxhall, and Solomons said he lived at the "White House" lodging-house, Flower and Dean Street, Aldgate—the following day Johnson and Solomons were identified by Miss Wilson without hesitation—they were all charged and made no reply—I was quite alone when I arrested them and I was unable to go into the Coach and Horses until about

fifteen or twenty minutes afterwards—there is a large trade done in the house.

Cross-examined by Johnson. I did not see you give Smith anything—you walked all together for about 300 or 400 yards after you met Smith.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—both these florins are counterfeit—they are not from the same mould.

Johnson's statement before the Magistrate: "Smith gave me the 2s. piece and said, 'Go and have a drink. I do not drink myself.' Me and Solomons went to have a drink. When I came out I gave Smith the coin back again, and said, 'I will have nothing to do with it.' Me and Solomons were going towards home when the police took us."

J. CUNNINGHAM (Further examined). I received a letter from you and went to a place where you were said to have worked off and on a few weeks.

JOHNSON GUILTY . JOHNSON and SMITH then PLEADED GULTY to convictions at this Court of unlawfully possessing counterfeit coin, JOHNSON on January 11th, 1904, in the name of Alfred Wright, and SMITH on July 25th, 1904, in the name of John Read. One other conviction was proved against Johnson and two against Smith. SMITH was stated to be a maker of counterfeit coin, and to be the leader of a gang— Five years' penal servitude. JOHNSON— Eighteen months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-87
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

87. JAMES SOLOMONS (20) , Unlawfully uttering a counterfeit florin, at the same time having in his possession another counterfeit florin, knowing the same to be false and counterfeit.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

FLORENCE WILSON . I am a barmaid at the Red Lion, Clerkenwell—on November 17th the prisoner came into the bar with Johnson (See last case)—I supplied them with a pony of Burton—Johnson paid me with a bad 2s. piece—I gave it to the manager—Solomons asked Johnson if he had any coppers, and he gave me two pennies—I gave Johnson the bad 2s. piece, and he was followed out by the manager.

JAMES CUNNINGHAM (Detective G.) On November 17th I was on duty in St. John's Road, Clerkenwell—the manager of the Red Lion, Clerkenwell, made a communication to me, in consequence of which I followed the three prisoners down John Street—they stopped in a passage outside a urinal—they went into the urinal and remained some time—when they came out I saw Smith, who has pleaded guilty, take something from his pocket and turn it over, as if counting it, after which he handed it to Johnson, and they all walked on together—I followed and saw them enter the Coach and Horses—I made a communication to another constable and afterwards we caught hold of the prisoners—I said, "I am a police officer; I have reason to believe you have been uttering counterfeit coin"—they made no remark—they were taken to the station—on searching Smith, in his trousers pocket were found two counterfeit florins—as I took a florin from Smith's pocket Solomons said, "Oh, I did not know he had got that"—on Smith I found 17s. 6d. in silver, and 2s. 3d. bronze—on Johnson 5s. 6d. silver, and 4d. bronze, and on Solomons 11s. silver,

and 9 1/2 d. bronze; I think there were eight shillings and the rest in sixpences—at the station, when formally charged, Solomons made no answer—it was not till the remand that he mentioned that Smith had given him the 2s.—after Smith had been put in the cell, in the water closet I found this broken bad coin.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These florins produced are bad—one of them is from the same mould as one that has been produced in another case.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that Smith was a perfect stranger to him, and that in accompanying the others to a music hall they treated one another, but he did not know that the coin was bad.


11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-88
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

88. WILLIAM HENRY TIDY (25) PLEADED GUILTY to an indecent assault upon Hetty Maria Glosby.

Two previous convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 12th, 1905.

Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-89
VerdictMiscellaneous > unfit to plead
SentenceImprisonment > insanity

Related Material

89. EDWIN CROCKER (21) , Wounding Rose Crocker with intent to murder her.

MR. MAY Prosecuted.

On the evidence of Dr. James Scott, the Medical Officer at Brixton Prison, the Jury found that the prisoner was insane and not in a fit state to plead to the indictment, and he was ordered to be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, December 12th, 1905.

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K. C.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-90
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

90. WILLIAM JAMES WRIGHT (34) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering receipts for the delivery of goods with intent to defraud. Discharged on his own recognisances in £10.—And

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-91
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

(91.) EMILIE FRITSCHE (31) to stealing a clock and other articles, the property of Otto Bomm, her employer; also to stealing a watch and other articles, the property of Bernhard Newmark, her employer, having been convicted of felony at the Session House, Clerkenwell, on May 26th, 1903. Several other convictions were proved against her and the police gave her a very bad character. Five years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-92
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

92. WILLIAM WHITMAN (59) , Stealing a mare, a set of harness, and a trap belonging to Laurence Edgar Bellringer.

MR. TODD Prosecuted.

CHARLES CHAPMAN (Detective, City). On November 24th, from instructions received I went to 4, Warrington Mews, North Kensington, and saw the prisoner there—I said to him, "Is your name Whitman?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer"—I cautioned him—I said, "I am making inquiries respecting a pony and trap which was stolen from

Arthur Street West on the 21st, which I believe you sold to Ginger Johnson for £4 10s."—he said, "Yes, that is quite right"—I then showed him the receipt and said, "Is this your receipt?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Where did you get it from?"he said, "That is my b—business"—I said, "Very well, I shall take you into custody, and take you to the City, where you will be charged with stealing and receiving the pony and trap"—he said, "All right"—on the way to the station he said, "I bought it from a man at Edgware, but I don't know his name or where he can be found"—at the station he was searched, and on him was found a receipt—he was then charged—he said in reply, "That is quite right."

FREDERFICK HARNETT . I am a fruiterer living at Lower Edmonton—I am known as "Ginger Johnson"—on November 22nd last I was at Barnet Market and bought there a chestnut pony—on the way home I saw the prisoner—the pony he was driving refused to go—I pulled up and spoke to him—we went and had a drink together—we stayed in the public-house for about thirty minutes—he asked me if I would buy the lot—I asked him to change with the pony I had—he said no, he wanted to sell the lot right out, he could do with the money—I asked what he wanted—he asked £7—I eventually bought it for £4 10s.—he gave me this receipt—on November 23rd I went to Spitalfields Market with the same pony—someone spoke to me there and I was given into custody and charged with stealing—I was subsequently discharged on the production of this receipt.

By the COURT. I had never seen the prisoner before—I buy anything if I can make a shilling by it—I have bought different ponies before—I tried to sell this pony and trap—I asked 35s. for the trap alone.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. When you sold the pony and trap you handed me a letter with your name and address, as you could not write except your name.

By the COURT. Another man wrote the receipt, and the prisoner signed his name at the bottom.

LAURENCE EDGAR BELLRINGER . I am a fishmonger at 93, Smith Street, Kennington—I have seen a bay mare and trap which the prisoner is charged with stealing—it is my property—the mare is worth £20 and the trap and harness £10—I left them in Arthur Street West, outside Billings-gate Market, on the morning of November 21st—I was in the market about twenty minutes—when I came out the horse and trap had gone—I gave information to the police—I next saw the horse and trap on the 23rd standing at Spitalfields Market—the last witness was in charge of it—I never saw the prisoner before the Police Court proceedings—I gave the last witness into custody on the charge of stealing my property.

By the COURT. I have had the pony about fifteen months—I paid £8 10s. for it—it was rising six when I got it, but it was lame—I have had the trap about nine months—I gave 30s. for it, but I have had it all done up.

EDWAR ATTWOOD (62 s.) On the morning of November 21st I was in charge of the Edgware police station when the prisoner was brought in—he was charged with being drunk whilst in charge of a pony and trap—I asked him if he had anyone to bail him out—he said, "Yes, a person named Huggett"—I sent round to Huggett, but he would not bail him out

—I then asked him if the pony and trap belonged to him—he said, "Yes"—I said, "How long have you had it?"—he said, "This morning; I made a swop at the Market"—I asked him who was the person he made the swop with—he said, "I do not know his name; a chap at the Market"—I said, "It is a strange thing you should swop a pony and trap with a man you do not know the name of"—he showed no receipt.

The prisoner: "I was drunk."

By the COURT. I cannot say what the pony and trap was worth.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I bought the pony last Tuesday week off a man in the Edgware Road. I don't know the man. The pony stopped and she would not go, and that's how I came to buy it. The man with the pony pulled up at the public-house. We went inside, and he asked me what time the sale started at Wood's, Edgware Road. I said, 'About 12.' He said,' I am going to put this in.' I said, 'It is too late; you cannot put them in after 10.50.' He asked me if I knew anyone who wanted to buy it. I said, 'I will.' He said, 'It is worth £5.' I said, 'It won't fetch about £3 in there,' and I bought it of him for £4, and he gave me a shilling back for luck, and he said he would see me there again, and I was to give him the two old rugs and the nosebag."

The prisoner, in his defence, said that he bought it off a man in the Edgware Road; that he had been a dealer all his life; that his father was a dealer; and that he would not have bought it had he known it was stolen.

GUILTY . The police stated that he had been several times convicted for assault. Four months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-93
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

93. WILLIAM GOWNLOCK (64) and CALEB HUNTER (26) , Feloniously assaulting, with another man unknown, Charles Stevens and robbing him with violence of a handkerchief and 15s. 3d. in money.


GEORGE COCKCROFT . I am a labourer, of 30, Conder Street, Stepney—on December 6th, between 4 and 5 p.m., I was walking down Repton Street, Limehouse, when I saw a sailor walking in the road—he had had a drop of drink—I saw three men following up behind—the prisoners are two of them—the third man went up to the sailor and fetched him back and took him to a little narrow way—Hunter then caught hold of him from behind and held both his hands—the third man, who is not here, went down the man's pockets—Hunter then let the sailor go and gave him a punch in the eye—Gownlock came over and took his silk handkerchief off his neck and went down his coat pocket—the three of them then ran off and left the prosecutor lying on the sidewalk—I went and picked him up and took him to a policeman, told him what had happened, and gave information at the police station—next day I picked out the two prisoners—I have known them for some months—the prosecutor was knocked senseless.

Cross-examined by Gownlock. I said before that I had seen you every day for twelve months—I have done so on and off for months.

By the COURT. I am sure the prisoners are the two men.

CHARLES STEVENS . I am a ship's fireman living at Causing Town

—on December 6th I came off my boat and had got my money—I had a few glasses of drink—on turning round a corner I was pulled up from behind—I cannot say who did it—somebody knocked me down senseless—the last witness picked me up—I do not remember any more—I had on me a half-sovereign, 5s. in silver, and 3d. bronze, and a silk handkerchief round my neck which cost me 5s. 6d.—I had a nasty poke in the eye and my head was struck against a wall.

GEORGE BAKER (Detective K.) About 2.30 p.m. on December 7th I was in East India Dock Road and saw the prisoners standing outside the Pay Office where sailors are paid off—I told them I was a police officer and should take them into custody for robbing a sailor on the previous afternoon at the bottom of Salmon Lane—I arrested Gownlock—he said, "All right, I'll go quiet"—he was taken to the station and placed with twelve others and picked out by Cockcroft without any hesitation—he made no answer when charged—I could not then find the prosecutor, but charged the prisoners myself on the evidence of the first witness—Detective Benton arrested Hunter.

WILLIAM BENTON (Detective K.) I was with Baker and arrested Hunter on December 7th—he was taken to the station and charged—he made no reply—when Baker told him he would be taken into custody for robbing a man he said, "Robbing a man?"and I said, "Yes."

Hunter: "I was surprised."

Gownlock's defence. "All I say is I am innocent and I never see the witness there nor the prosecutor."

Hunter, in his defence, said that he was arrested near where he lived; that he was standing at the top of the street and that he gave his mother's address when charged, for the reason that he had a wife and three children at home; that one was dying and he did not want his wife upset.

GUILTY . GOWNLOCK then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Thames Police Court on May 20th, 1905, and HUNTER to a conviction of felony at the Thames Police Court on June 3rd, 1904, in the name of Charles Abbott. Three other convictions were proved against Gownlock and two against Hunter. The police stated that the prisoners were associates of a dangerous gang of thieves who wait for drunken sailors, make them drunk, and then rob them. Three years' penal servitude each.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-94
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

94. JAMES CRYSTAL (28) and JOHN GREENAWAY (20) , Committing an act of gross indecency with one another.

MR. OLIVER Prosecuted; MR. RANDOLPH Appeared for Crystal, and

MR. W. B. CAMPBELL for Greenaway.


NEW COURT.—Tuesday and Wednesday, December 12th and 13th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-95
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

95. ERNEST HENRY LAVINGTON , otherwise ROBERT KING (28). PLEADED GUILTY to incurring a debt and liability and thereby obtaining credit under false pretences. Nine months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-96
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

96. ROBERT ADDISON, Being an undischarged bankrupt, unlawfully obtaining credit to the amount of £441 11s. 6d. from James Dall Clark without informing him that he was an undischarged bankrupt.

MR. LUSHINGTON Prosecuted; MR. MATHEWS Defended.

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


11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-97
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

97. ARTHUR CORNHILL (53), WALTER CORNHILL (26) and PERCY CORNHILL (17), Stealing 28 lbs. of metal, the goods of Betts & Co., Limited, the masters of Percy Cornhill. PERCY CORNHILL PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. MACKAY Prosecuted; MR. W. B. CAMPBELL Defended Arthur and Walter Cornhill.

GEORGE FINNEY (Policeman). On December 3rd, at 12.45 a.m., I saw Walter Cornhill carrying a sack—I asked him what the sack contained and he said, "I do not know; it was just given to me by a man at Caledonian Road; I do not know his name, and I do not know his address"—I took him to the station, when on the way he said, "I might as well tell you the truth about this. I have been to see my brother Percy to-night. He lives No. 12, Clayton Street, and he gave me this metal to make a few coppers on because I am hard up and out of work. I have a wife and two children"—I found the metal in the sack—I went to No. 12, Clayton Street, where I saw Arthur Cornhill, the father—I said to him, "Have you seen your son Walter to-night?"and he said, "Yes, he left here about ten minutes ago"—I said, "Did you give him anything when leaving?"and he said, "No, nothing"—I then saw Percy and said to him, "Have you given your brother anything to-night?"and he said, "No"—I then said to Arthur Cornhill, in the hearing of Percy, "Your son is detained at the Caledonian Road police station for being in possession of a quantity of metal," and they both said, "We do not know anything about it"—they then went to the station with me, when Percy said, "I did give it to my brother. He has been out of work and I thought he could make a few halfpence on it"—Arthur said, "I suppose you have been at my lead again. At all events, I recognise the sack as mine"—the station officer said to Arthur, "You had better go home and see what you have missed," and be said, "I will soon tell what I have lost if I have a look round"—he then went round to Clayton Street with an officer and myself, when he said, '* Yes, I have lost some metal, I have lost six or seven sticks of solder and a quantity of lead trimmings"—I then showed him the contents of the sack and he said, "Yes, that is mine," and various other portions of the metal he said were his—he then charged his two sons at the station for stealing and receiving and they were brought up at the police station on that charge—I was present when they were brought up before the Magistrate—he was asked to discharge them on that charge and they were then re-arrested with their father—Mr. Kisby, Messrs. Betts & Co.'s manager, identified the metal in the sack.

Cross-examined. I left the sack containing the metal on a long form in the charge room whilst I went with other officers to 12, Clayton

Street—Arthur opened the door to us; he was rather surprised to see us—I asked to see Percy, and his father then produced him—Percy was in bed—his father did not question him at all; he left all that to me—I have never seen a builder's yard at his premises; I always understood Arthur was a bird stuffer—he said he was a builder and I have no reason to doubt it—I do not know that he has been employed for seventeen years superintending the repairs of a big estate—we have found nothing against him—I did not tell him that if Percy and Walter had been stealing his metal he must prosecute them; there was nothing said in my presence that he must either forgive them or prosecute them—this sort of metal Produced) would fetch 3d. to 3 1/2 d. a lb—I reckon there was about 14 lbs. in the sack; he might have got 2s. or 3s. from a marine store dealer for it—Arthur did not reproach his sons for having got him into this position.

Re-examined. He did not seem much surprised at their having stolen this metal from him.

FRANCIS HALL (Sergeant G.) On December 4th I was at the Clerkenwell Police Court when I asked Arthur how he got possession of the articles, the subject of the charge—he said, u The sheet (pointing to the sheet of lead and tin mixture) I bought from a plumber; I do not know his name or where he lives. The solder I bought in the market last Friday"—I said, "The whole of it has been identified by Mr. Kisby, the manager at Betts', Upper Holloway, where your son Percy is employed"—he said, "I did not steal it"—I then told him he would be detained and charged—I then saw Percy and Walter at the back of the Court and told them the property had been identified—Percy said, "I told the truth about it on Saturday night. I have nothing else to say "—Walter said nothing—when charged Arthur said, "I did not steal it," and Percy and Walter said nothing—when Arthur charged his two sons I explained the case to the Magistrate and he discharged the two prisoners—they were then re-arrested and Arthur was arrested and conveyed to Upper Holloway police station, where they were charged—when searched Arthur said, "It is rough on me. This comes of trying to do my duty by my sons. I tried to get them out of it"—turning to Percy, he said, "It is not a great conjure: you could only get 2s. for the lot."

Cross-examined. I was not present when Walter was brought into the station on the Sunday morning—I did not tell Arthur that he must either prosecute them or ask the Magistrate to let them off.

HORACE NICHOLSON KISBY . I am manager to Messrs. Betts & Co., of Upper Holloway—on December 4th I was called to the police station, where I saw the prisoners—some metal was produced before me—I identified it as belonging to the firm.

By the COURT. It is 28 lbs. in weight and is worth about 6d. a lb. roughly, 14s. altogether.

Cross-examined. I can swear positively that all this metal is ours—there is no private mark on this mixture of tin and lead, but I know it is ours because it is run out in identically the same way as ours—there might be one other firm on the other side of the water who makes the

metal like this, but I am not certain—there are no private marks on our metal—I do not know that this metal (Sheet lead produced) is the same as plumber's lead—ours is the best—we export this solder to India, where it is used in soldering up the lead inside the tea-chests—it is very like the shape of the piece you produce and hand to me, but it is a different quality altogether from ours.

By the COURT. I do not know Arthur at all; I only know his son Percy as being in our employ.

Arthur Cornhill said before the Magistrate: "I am perfectly innocent. I know no more about it than a child unborn." Walter Cornhill said: "My brother said to me,' You can have that; it is a bit of lead. I took it out of father's shop.' He said, 'When you get into work you can pay it back again. It will get you a bit of food.' "

FRANCIS HALL (Recalled by the Court). No. 12, Clayton Street, is a small house with a yard at the back, in which there were several ladders used probably for building purposes, a number of odds and ends of tools that could be used for plumbing or general house repairs—Arthur's occupation seems to me to have been bird stuffing—I understood from one of his sons that he did occasional jobbing repairs and so on—with the exception of that which was identified by the prosecutors, this is the only bit of solder I found there—I did not find a metal pot.

Arthur Cornhill, in his defence on oath, said he had been in the builders' trade for forty-five years, having two sons, Walter, who was married and had been out of work for some time, and Percy, who lived with him; that Walter was at his house on the night of December 3rd, going away at a little after 12, but that he did not see him leave the house; that he (Arthur) had a workshop in which he kept paint, lead, zinc, and other things, and also solder, of which he used a large quantity, having bought recently ten strips in the market; that he had no knowledge of the prosecutor and that when Percy had confessed to him that he had taken some metal from his shop he immediately concluded that all in the sack was his, and for that reason he identified it as his own, having recognised some of his own metal at the top; but that afterwards when the sack was turned out he disclaimed it as being his property; and that he never had had a charge of dishonesty brought against him before.

The Judge here stated that there was no evidence that Arthur Cornhill ever had the property in his possession, and directed the Jury to return a verdict of

GUILTY . WALTER CORNHILL GUILTY of receiving. He received a good character— Six months' hard labour. PERCY CORNHILL, who received a good character— Six months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-98
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

98. EUGENE ALTMANN (31), Stealing a case, two rows of pearls, and other jewellery, and £10 in money, the property of Florence Prinsep.

MR. LEYCESTER and MR. SYMONS Prosecuted; MR. SANDS Defended.

TIMOTHY GARRY (56 F.) I am accustomed to drawing plans and have made a plan of Mrs. Prinsep's house, No. 1, Holland Park Road, with the adjoining gardens, and it is correctly drawn to scale—Leyton House is at the side of it—Mrs. Prinsep's bedroom window is quite twenty feet from the ground; it has an ordinary shaped window which lifts open,

and there is an area below the level of the ground—the window is looking towards Leyton House, and there are two bits of gardens in between—there is a wooden fence starting from Leyton House seven or eight feet high—the garden to the Holland Park Road is fifty yards long from front to back, and abutting on the back of the houses in Holland Park Road there are the gardens of Melbury Road—this plan also shows the garden of No. 8 abutting on the back of Leyton House; it also shows the garden of No. 14—the gardens are separated by low fences and walls—this plan also shows Laura cottages, which are now empty.

FLORENCE PRINSEP . I am the wife of Mr. Val Prinsep, of 1, Holland Park Road—on November 14th I had a quantity of jewellery in a bag which I locked up and left on a chair in my bedroom on the first floor, at the side of the house looking towards Leyton House—I left the room between 7.5 and 7.20 p.m., just before dinner; we dine at 7.30 p.m.—the jewellery consisted of two strings of pearls in a case and a quantity of other jewellery in cases, the total value, roughly speaking, being about £6,000—I went straight to the dining room—about 8.10 p.m. I was called back to the room by the maid—I rushed up and found the bag was gone, the window up, a ladder up against the window, and the table just opposite the window where my maid did needlework, upset—the ladder was mine and kept at the end of the garden—I sent for the police at once and Burgess came—next morning Inspector Stockley came—before I went to the Police Court I was shown these two strings of pearls and a number of empty cases (Produced), which I identified as mine—I identify them now as part of the stolen property—I identify this pocket book in which there is still a 100 mark note, but the gold which it contained has gone—about three or four days before the robbery I saw the prisoner in the evening, between Leyton House and mine, looking up at the window—there was a lamp on the other side of the road and it shone fall on his profile—he was on my side of the road; I was coming up to the front door—I wondered what he was doing there—I noticed him especially because the light was on his face—I identified him from a number of other men at the police station on November 18th—I had no doubt that he was the man directly I saw his profile.

Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. My maid is not here—when I left the room the window was not open and my maid was sitting at the side of the window with the blind up—I should have seen the ladder if it had been there before I left the room—there is one store above my bedroom—I always keep my things in this bag—my maid and the old butler would know that—he had been in my room constantly before he left—his name is Carlos and he left about ten or fourteen days before the robbery, giving me notice, at which I was very surprised, saying that he was going to America—I think he went there, because he stayed with the new butler two or three days to show him everything; I told him to find out about his passage to America, and I offered to put him up for the night so that he need not get a room, but when I came home in the evening he said he was going that night instead of the next morning as he had previously arranged—he said he was going by night train to

Liverpool—letters came to him the next day showing he did not intend going quite so soon—he was a German, and he never had any friends come to see him to my knowledge; he would not go out unless you told him to—I was asked to go to the police station because a man had been taken up and they wanted to know if it was the man I had seen in the street—amongst the men from whom I picked him out there were two or three dark foreigners, but I recognised the peculiar profile of the prisoner—I walked down the line and back again, when suddenly the prisoner turned his head and I recognised him—I looked carefully at all the men, and I looked at one man who had a moustache something like the prisoner—I just hesitated because I wanted to be absolutely certain—directly this man with the moustache moved I knew it was not anything like the man I had seen.

Re-examined. Carl had been with me over a year and was a most valued servant; and we were all very sorry when he left—he sent a postcard from America to my little boy and also one to my new butler with his address to which to send on letters that came for him—the ladder might have been up against the wall of the house without my noticing it—there is a work room and a spare room above mine.

By the COURT. I left my maid in my room when I left to go down to dinner; she was doing needlework—she is with me still.

LILY BROWN . I am in domestic service at 3, Holland Park Road, and I know Mrs. Prinsep's house, No. 1—I heard of the robbery as I was coming home from my evening out, about 10 p.m.—on November 14th, on going out at 5.20 p.m., I noticed a ladder leaning up against the wall by Mrs. Prinsep's dressing-room window between two windows on the right-hand side as I looked up, the same side as Leyton House.

Cross-examined. It came to just below the window sill, and being at the side it could not be seen from inside—I do not know that it was standing out a long way from the wall—I very often see ladders about in use—I first spoke about this to my mistress two or three days afterwards—I did not see an account of the robbery in the papers, but everybody knew about it.

WILLIAM JAMES WEBB . I am a painter, and was employed at Mrs. Prinsep's house doing some painting, and was there on November 14th—I left between 5.15 and 5.20 p.m., going to the right—I saw the prisoner on the opposite side of the road leaning up against the wall, opposite the house next to Mrs. Prinsep's—I came rather suddenly on him and he turned round and I passed by and went home—I saw his face—I had never seen his face before—I should think I had seen him five times before hanging about outside at night when I was going home—I recognised him on this occasion by his general appearance and build—this job at Mrs. Prinsep's house had been in hand for about six weeks—I did not take as much notice of him on the night of the 14th as to recognise him as the man I had seen before—I had seen him so often that I used to look for him; I used to think he worked at the corner house—on November 18th I was taken to the station, where I picked the prisoner out from amongst a number of men; I should say there were ten—I had no difficulty in

recognising him as the man 1 had seen outside—I went straight up to him.

Cross-examined. I did not know Lily Brown before this case—I did not see the ladder when I came out on November 14th, as I went the other way and had no chance of seeing it—I went out by the front door—I had seen this man for the first time about three weeks before—when I saw him on November 14th I thought he was the same man as I had seen previously hanging about—he was dressed in the same way and he was holding himself in the same way—when I saw his face he did not look to me to be a foreigner—I should not take the prisoner for a foreigner, seeing him from here—the men from whom I picked him out were of different classes, many men with moustaches and dark men being among them—none of them looked like foreigners; as far as I could judge they were all English, but I never looked at the other men much—as I walked in the prisoner happened to be facing me—I picked out a photograph previously very much like the prisoner—I knew for what purpose the police showed me the photographs; they were photographs of men that they suspected—the police gave me several boxes of them and asked me to have a look through them—I looked at very nearly all of them and I noticed one and I said, "That is very much like the man"—there were about eight boxes of them containing about 2,000 photographs—this was two days before I identified the prisoner—when I identified him I had in my mind that I could identify the man I had seen in the street if I saw him, and I also had in my mind the photograph that I had seen, but when I saw the prisoner I did not think of the photograph; I saw that it was the man I had seen in the street—it is certainly not the fact that when I saw a man very much like the photograph I had seen, that I picked him out—the prisoner is not like the photograph in build, but he is in features—I picked him out by his face.

Re-examined. I have seen a good many foreigners; I have traveled in South Africa, China and India, but I have not been in France and Germany much.

PAUL HANNEL (Interpreted). I am a German, and a porter out of employment—I live at Belvedere Crescent, where I have been ten months—I have been at work as a porter since I have been in England—I met the prisoner, whom I knew by the name of Altmann, in Charlotte Street about six or eight days before the robbery—he came to me and said that Mr. Grunfeld wanted to speak to me—I knew a man of that name as a mechanician—the prisoner said nothing else—at that time a friend of mine named Ellerman lived with me—on one Saturday the prisoner met me and said that there was some jewellery to be fetched away from Kensington; that there was a house in Kensington, where jewellery could be taken because there was a ladder leaning against the wall, and it could easily be taken; that it must be done between 8 and 9 p.m.; that the old butler had gone away and the new butler was a fool—I made no reply, but went away with my friend, Ellerman, who was standing about forty or fifty feet away waiting for me; he could not hear what was said—I never went to see Grunfeld about this—I read an account of this robbery in the "Daily Telegraph"—I understand

English a little when I read—I, Grunfeld and Ellerman went to a certain restaurant on a Saturday and when we came out we were arrested, but a quarter of an hour after I was set at liberty—I answered questions in English which were put to me, and it was taken down in writing.

Cross-examined. Mr. King arrested me—he did not tell me anything; I could only think it was an account of the jewels—neither Mr. King nor anyone told me that I was arrested for the jewels—I cannot say why I supposed I was being arrested for stealing Mrs. Prinsep's jewels—I knew nothing of it except what I read—we were arrested coming out of the Globe restaurant, which is about two minutes from Charlotte Street—Mr. King and Inspector Stockley took me to the Tottenham Court Road police station—when I was asked the questions I did not know the prisoner was in custody—I have never known nor heard of a man named Harrar—I have been in England for ten months—I am twenty-seven and come from Hamburg, where I was a clerk—I left Germany for no other reason than to learn English—I had been a clerk for three or four years—I am sure I never got into trouble in Germany with the police—I had been in employment two months before I left Hamburg, with a friend in a printing establishment—I have never had anything to do with jewellery, either in Germany or here—I have been punished twice on account of fraud—I have been living at Belvedere Crescent for four weeks, and before that at Sackville Street by Charlotte Street—when I came to London I first lived at either 7 or 8, Windmill Street—I cannot say for certain whether it was No. 6 or not—I lived there with Grunfeld—I do not know Hans Harrar by name—since I have been here I have worked four months as a porter in a restaurant in Rupert Street, leaving four or five months ago—I have done nothing since; I have had an inheritance from home—I have had an 18 carat gold chain; it was gilt—I know 105, Charlotte Street, and go there to see a friend; I do not carry on business there, nor do I manage it at all—I do not know that it is an improper house; I know nothing about it—I may have seen the prisoner at the Kellnerheim restaurant, but I did not speak to him—I have not seen him selling incandescent mantles—he spoke to me about the jewels the Saturday before the robbery—I knew what he meant, but I would not accede to it—I cannot say why he should mention it to me—I did not think of telling the police—I swear that he told me about the jewels—I next saw Grunfeld after that at the Globe restaurant when we were arrested—I said in my statement to Mr. King that all that happened on November 11th was that the prisoner told me that Grunfeld wanted to see me.

Re-examined. On the Thursday after the robbery I went to Mrs. Prinsep's house with Ellerman, who speaks English better than I—I stopped at the door and Ellerman went in—whilst there Inspector Stockley came, and that was the first time I saw any police about this matter—Stockley took me to look for Grunfeld and we found him in the Globe restaurant—he then took us to Tottenham Court Road police station, where they kept me and asked me questions, when they let me go—they did not charge me or keep me in prison.

JOHN ABTHORPE VON KROYER ELLERMAN . I am an hotel porter and live at the same place as my friend Hannel—I have seen him and the prisoner together on four or five occasions in Charlotte Street—I have never heard what they said—the last time I saw them together was the Saturday night before the robbery—I read the report of it in the newspaper the next morning, and I had a conversation with Hannel about it—he and I then went to Mrs. Prinsep's house.

Cross-examined. I have been in England fifteen months—I came from Hamburg—I went to school with Hannel and know all about him.

THOMAS BURGESS (102 F.) On the evening of November 14th I was called to Mrs. Prinsep's house, where I saw an open window with a ladder up against it—I searched the garden with the aid of my lantern, when I found this large jewel case behind a tree, and beside it some pieces of candle, paper, and some powder.

Cross-examined. I did not notice any footmarks.

JAMES STOCKLEY (Detective-Inspector F.) On the morning of November 15th I went to Mrs. Prinsep's house, where in the garden I found this chisel (Produced) near the place where it had been communicated to me the bag had been found—it is quite new, but the edges look as though it has been used up against some hard substance—on examining the fence separating the house from Leyton House I found no marks on it; it is a very low fence—on the fence separating the next door garden and garden of Leyton House and leading into Melbury Road I found a footmark as if some one had been climbing over—in the garden of No. 81 found this pocket book containing a 100 mark note; it was damp, as though it had been there all night—there had been money in it, which had been removed—I also saw a ladder 27 feet long—I and another man tried to rear it against the wall and we could not do it; it took quite three men—against this window it is a very awkward place to rear it—I started making inquiries—on Thursday, November 16th, I saw Hannel at Mrs. Prinsep's house—in the course of the statement he made to me he mentioned the name of Grunfeld and I took him to Charlotte Street and found him—Grunfeld was detained and Hannel was taken to the station, but afterwards he was allowed to go; there was never any intention of detaining him—about 11.30 on November 17th I went to 82, Wells Street, Oxford Street, with Sergeant King—the prisoner and his wife occupied the top back room, it being a lodging house—I asked him whether his name was Altmann and he said, "Yes, it is"—I told him I was going to take him into custody on suspicion of being concerned with stealing jewellery from No. 1, Holland Park Road, of the value of about £6,000, and he said, "I know nothing about it; I can prove I was with my master every night"—I told him I had not made any mention of any night, and he went on to say, "On Tuesday night I was at home till half-past 7, and then I was in the sausage shop in Charlotte Street until a quarter-past 8"—I had not made any mention of any night up till then—I think every newspaper in London had an account of the robbery—I asked him if he were acquainted with Mrs. Prinsep's late butler and he said, "Yes, I borrowed money off him once"—he was taken to Kensington and there detained until 7 next morning, when

he was placed amongst several men who were similarly dressed to himself—we took care to have some men with dark moustaches, but of course it was quite impossible to get all foreigners with dark moustaches—Webb picked him out without any hesitation whatever—when Mrs. Prinsep came in she was rather frightened—she looked at a man and said, "That looks like him," but on turning round and seeing the prisoner she immediately said, "That is the man; I am quite certain about it"—he was charged and he made a statement to Sergeant King in German—I ought perhaps to have said that while he was waiting to be put up for identification we heard for the first time that some of the jewels had been found in a garden near the house, but nothing had been said about it to the prisoner before he made the statement.

Cross-examined. I did take a number of footprints, but they were found to be quite useless because I afterwards ascertained there had been about a dozen policemen walking over this place—I first heard of Harrar through a letter delivered to Mrs. Prinsep's house addressed to her late butler—it is in German, but it has been translated—there is an envelope Attached to it addressed, "Mr. Charles Pful, 1, Holland Park Road, London, W.—the postmark is, I think, October 24th; it is very indistinct—I interviewed Harrar—it is dated from 6, Windmill Street, and was signed "H. Harrar" (Read): "Dear Charles—Now yesterday the black one was with you. I got to know it last night, that impertinent lousy one. I and Bultner took him in hand last night. He is satisfied now and does not wish to know anything further; we made it d—hot for him. You can be quite sure that he will not come into your street again or to your house. Everything is now very quiet and you can be perfectly tranquil. Is there any news at your place? How is Swiss getting on? Shall see you here on Friday. Now till Friday, your best friend salutes you. J. Harrar."—I do not know that "the black one "is the prisoner; I can express an opinion, but I have no reason for knowing it; it may be—as to the room beneath the bedroom window, all I know is that it was not the kitchen.

AUGUSTINE NORDIN (Interpreted). I have been a maid in the service of Mrs. Prinsep since January 26th—I saw my mistress put the bag with the jewellery in it on a chair in her bedroom on the night of the robbery—I saw her lock it—she left the room about 7.30 or 7.35 p.m. whilst I remained arranging things for about a quarter of an hour—I took my lamp, which was on the table near the window, and went downstairs, leaving another lamp there which illuminated the bedroom—the window was shut, the blind being up; it was a blind to pull up and down—I was away a quarter of an hour—when I went into the kitchen I saw it was 8 p.m., and then I went upstairs—I found my little basket tumbled upside down, on the table, the window open and a ladder against it—on going into my mistress's chamber I found the bag gone—my mistress's room communicates with my own room by a door which is not locked—the open window was in my room—the door was ajar when I went downstairs, and it was in the same condition when I came up—I immediately went down and asked my mistress if she had removed the sac herself.

Cross-examined. I knew Carl—I do not know any of his friends.

CECIL PARSONS (Constable F.) On November 18th I went to Laura Cottages, Holland Park Road, in consequence of information I received—there are two cottages, one of which is unoccupied—on the ground floor of the unoccupied house I found these nine jewel cases, which were damp as though they had been in contact with damp leaves or grass—the back door of that cottage was open, and it leads into the garden of that cottage—anybody coming from the Holland Park Road to this cottage would have to pass the garden at the back of 14, Melbury Road, provided they came over the garden—in addition to the cases, which Mrs. Prinsep has recognised as her own, I found this handkerchief, which she has not recognised.

By the COURT. The natural course to get there if you want to avoid the thoroughfare, would be to go through the grounds of Leyton House, get over one of the palings where the pocket book was found, continue along until you get to the place where the rope of pearls was found, and then get over other palings until you get to the land at the back of the cottages.

CHARLES JOHN CAT . I am a gardener working in the garden of 14, Melbury Road, my employers being under contract to keep that garden in order, and for that purpose I go there every Saturday—on Saturday, November 18th, I found in the left-hand corner of the garden, away from the house, near a tree this jewel case (Produced), partly open—I saw inside this pearl necklace (Produced).

By the COURT. There were a few leaves over the bottom part of it as if for concealment.

THOMAS KING (Sergeant D.) I was with Inspector Stockley when the prisoner was arrested, and I corroborate his account—I was present on November 18th, when he was charged—after cautioning him he said to me in German, "I did not steal anything there, but if you like to take me to Charlotte Street I can show you the man who did it. You will find the stolen things in the corner of a garden covered over with leaves. They were disturbed and chased, and hid the things so that they should not be found on them. I was told by Buthner you were after me, but you ought to look after Harrar; he has arranged the lot. You better go and look for the things under some trees in the corner of a garden three or four gardens away from the house where they took the things. You will find them unless they fetched them away last night. If you go to 59, High Street, Bloomsbury, and see Mr. Pierre, you will most likely find the things"—as he was being charged, before he made this statement, the gardener came and stated they had been found, but not in the hearing of the prisoner—I took down the prisoner's statement in English—I know German—I took the precaution to read it aloud so that every-body in the charge room should hear it in English—I have ascertained that Pierre is a tobacconist who has left his wife and cannot be found—I did not know where the pearls had been found; I was shown afterwards—Hannel afterwards came and made a statement in German to the prisoner, which I translated at the time, and it was taken down by Sergeant

Parsons—the statement was with reference to his having seen the prisoner and conversed with him about this matter—the prisoner said, "It was Saturday night when I met this man and I only told him Grunfeld wanted to see him, and nothing more."

Cross-examined. Hannel said, "I live at 9a, Belvedere Crescent, West-minster Bridge Road, and am a porter out of employment"—no questions were put to him; he volunteered the statement—he first said, "At 7 o'clock on Sunday, the 12th, I met the prisoner outside the Scala Theatre. I did not know the prisoner; he approached me and told me he knew of a place. A friend of mine walked up"—I know the foreign quarter round Fitzroy Square very well—I saw Grunfeld and Harrar the day before the prisoner was arrested—I am an Englishman and speak German, Dutch, a little Polish, and a little French—we saw Grunfeld coming out of the Globe restaurant and Hannel was brought to me by Inspector Stockley—Hannel had made a statement already before he saw me; there were some further particulars afterwards taken—Hannel does not speak English; it was through his friend Ellermann that his first statement was taken—Inspector Stockley and I found Harrar in Windmill Street; he was lodging there—I have seen him twice since—I do not know where he is now, nor do I think does anybody else—I made a correct translation of the letter written by him to Mrs. Prinsep's late butler—I did not go to see Harrar after the prisoner made this statement; Harrar had disappeared—Pierre had also gone—he is a Hungarian, speaks German well and English fairly well—as regards the prisoner telling us to take him to Charlotte Street, we made inquiries, but we could not find anybody—Buthner is a friend of the prisoner's and also, I believe, of Harrar's—Grunfeld is outside the Court now—I know the Hermann restaurant as a place much frequented by foreigners—I think it is somewhat longer than ten months since the prisoner has been in England—he has not been in trouble since he has been here.

Re-examined. Buthner has gone as well.

JAMES STOCKLEY (Recalled). The day after the robbery was committed I gave Webb about 1,000 photographs and asked him to look through them—we had not a photograph of the prisoner—when he finished looking through them he pointed out a photograph which he said was something like the prisoner—it was not he; it was an Englishman perhaps twenty years older.

THOMAS KING (Recalled). I know a man named Jules Rosenberg; I believe he can be found—he is a Hungarian the same as the prisoner—on November 17th he came to me and asked me whether I had heard that a burglary had been committed at the house where a friend of Hans Harrar's had been employed—the prisoner said as regards that, "Hans offered me a dozen bottles of champagne through Rosenberg, and Rosenberg said Hans Harrar intended doing something at the house where the burglary took place."

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was an electrical engineer and had been in England since January, coming from Buda Pesth; that for the last seven or eight months he had been selling incandescent mantles for a

Mr. Mincent, making a profit for himself of 25s. to 28s. a week, sometimes selling a gross a day, but on other days none at all; that this brought him in-contact with many foreign restaurants, at one of which he met Harrar, a German, early in the summer, through whom he got to know Buthner, Rosenberg, and Carl Pful, Mrs. Prinsep's late butler; that at another restaurant he met Grunfeld; that on October 24th Harrar and Buthner asked him to sell some champagne which they said they had obtained from Pful; that he disbelieved Pful's story that it had been given to him by Mrs. Prinsep prior to his going to America, and believing it had been stolen he ceased all friendship with them, including Rosenberg; that Hannel, in his opinion, was living with Harrar, but that at any rate they used to frequent the same restaurants; that other than he told Hannel that Grunfeld wished to see him; all Hannel's evidence was false; that on no occasion other than October 24th, when he went to see Pful about the champagne, had he been outside Mrs. Prinsep's house, and that it was somebody else that Webb and Mrs. Prinsep saw outside the house; that between 4 and 5 p.m. on November 17th Buthner came to see him, telling him that the police were after him, as they had got a letter written by Harrar to Pful in which he (the prisoner) was referred to as "the black one", that he (Buthner) had heard that Harrar had instructed, two Swiss friends of his to do the robbery; that Rosenberg visited him the same day between 7 and 8, giving him information to the same effect, adding that the jewels were buried in the adjoining gardens and that the thieves were only waiting for a chance to get it away so as to get the money for it from a tobacconist of 59, High Street, Bloomsbury; that he gathered the reason why Rosenberg told him this was that he (the prisoner) should be able to tell the police where the property was; that he gathered from Rosenberg telling him that it had been arranged that he (Rosenberg) and Harrar were going away together, that Rosenberg had taken some part in the robbery; that all the information he had thus received he had told the police, only that he did not mention that the property could be found under a tree, as Rosenberg had not told him that; that on the day of the robbery he was in his room at 82, Wells Street, till 7.45 p.m., when he met Mincent, with whom he remained till 11 p.m.; and that he had never been in trouble before.

Evidence for the Defence.

ANNIE ALTMANN (Interpreted). I am the prisoner's wife, and I have been living with him ever since we came over from Hungary—I remember the day he was arrested, Friday—the Tuesday before he came home at 4 p.m., remaining till 7.30 p.m., when I went out, leaving him there.

Cross-examined. I did not say at the Police Court 8.30 p.m.—I remember my evidence being read over to me in English—there was an interpreter there, but he did not put it down as I gave it to him, apparently—I was called before Mr. Mincent gave his evidence—I know from the newspaper that my evidence was interpreted wrongly—I spoke German—the German for seven is "sieben "and the German for eight "acht"—Mr. Mincent has not told me that he swore he met my husband at 8 or 8.15 p.m.—I heard Mr. Mincent give his evidence, but I did not understand it; he spoke in English.

BERNARD MINCENT . I gave my evidence in English—I am a Hungarian; I have been in England over four years—I am carrying on business as a plumber at 13, Portland Street, Wardour Street—I met the prisoner first four years ago, and ten weeks ago I met him again in Charlotte Street—I gave him sometimes some incandescent mantles to earn something for himself, as he was rather hard up—I saw the account of the robbery in the newspapers the day after its occurrence—when I saw that the prisoner was arrested I told on the Tuesday night he was with me; that I had seen him myself at 8.15 p.m. in Charlotte Street, and I had called to him to have a sandwich with me—we then went to Soho Street to a Turkish cafe and stayed there till 11 p.m.—he was in my company the whole time.

Cross-examined. The last time I gave him incandescent mantles to sell was about ten days before he was arrested—I did not see him seven months ago—there was nothing particular to make me remember the Tuesday night, November 14th—I spent nearly every night with him—on Wednesday I saw an account of the robbery and I knew very well that he was with me on the Tuesday evening—I know it was about 8.15 that I met him, because I arrived home at 7 and washed myself, and after about an hour I came out and met him—I gave him these mantles at cost price, and he could sell them at what he liked—I only gave him mantles about three times, four or five dozen at each time.

ALFRED VOLFGARN FARBER . I am a German—I gave evidence for the prisoner at Kensington police station—I have seen him before that and I think he knows me—I know Jules Rosenberg; he is an Hungarian—he asked me to write a letter to the Inspector of New Scotland Yard in German five or six days after the robbery—I had read a report of it in the news-paper—I think it was after the prisoner was arrested that Rosenberg asked me—at 7 p.m. I wrote the letter and at 10.30 p.m. I went to the police station at Tottenham Court Road—Rosenberg posted the letter himself that same day—I told at the police station everything about the matter that 1 heard from Rosenberg in the letter which I wrote for him—the inspector asked me to bring Rosenberg to the police station and I did so the next day—the reason I went to the station first was that I told my governor and he advised me to go—I am a clerk and my governor has an employment office—I went to the police station the second time at 1 or 1.30 p.m. and I came away at 5 or 6 p.m.—my only knowledge of the matter is confined to what I wrote in the letter to the Commissioner of Police.

Cross-examined. Rosenberg was called as a witness at the Police Court—I did not sign the letter; it was anonymous—I did not tell Rosenberg that I was going to the police station—I asked for some money from the police for myself; I left the amount to them—I did not ask for any money before I would tell anything—I did not get anything.

JAMES STOKLEY (Recalled by the COURT). What occurred was this: Farber came to see me and said he had just written a letter for a man named Rosenberg, giving some information about this robbery—he mentioned the names of two men and the addresses they were living at—

the police at once acted upon that information and cleared the matter up as far as they could to their own satisfaction—those men had absconded and I have no doubt they were concerned in the robbery. I am certain those are the two men who got possession of the property and went away with it—a day or two after Farber's visit the Commissioner sent me up the anonymous letter that had been received—the probability is it is the same letter that Farber said he wrote for Rosenberg—there was nothing in the letter with reference to the prisoner—I have no doubt, if it is necessary, the Commissioner will waive his privilege and produce the letter. [The COURT was then adjourned and on its re-sitting the letter was produced.]

A. V. FARBER (Recalled by the COURT). This is the letter I wrote at the instigation of Rosenberg (Produced).

THOMAS KING (Recalled by the COURT). This is a letter written in German—it is headed "London, November 22nd, 1905," and addressed to "The Detective Department, New Scotland Yard, London," and it says, "With this I permit myself to inform you that I am in a position to give you information as to the burglary made at Mrs. Prinsep's, 1, Holland Park Road, which occurred on Tuesday, the 14th inst., during the time that the family was at dinner. Of all the persons who have until now in this case been taken into custody, not one of them is the real perpetrator, but a few of those who have been in custody have shown the way to those who committed the crime—those who committed the crime are. (The witness was directed to read no names or descriptions of persons other than those already mentioned in the course of the case). They are Swiss and have worked here as porters "(and then there is a description of the men) "the man who did this has been living for some time in England "(then he gives the name) "I believe that is his right name; I am not quite sure; he is married and his wife is a Swiss subject"—it also states his birthplace; that he lives at a certain address in Fitzroy Square; and a description of his clothes—" His landlord will be able to tell you that on the night of this robbery he did not come home and that he did not return to his lodgings until 7 o'clock the following evening; that be remained in a garden or in a cellar of a house because the police were after him; the jewels, which will not be found at the lodgings of these men, were bought by a man"—it then gives his address which we have had before and his description and a general outline of his character—" I am quite sure that if you went to search his house, you would find the jewels there, If you take this man into custody you will find that the whole of my statement is quite correct, and you will then make the arrest of a very notorious character; there is no doubt you will also find evidence of several other interesting cases"—Pierre is mentioned, but not Harrar—this is the description of the first man, "He is a Swiss. The eldest is twenty-five to twenty-six, about 5 feet 6 inches tall [The prisoner stated that he was 5 feet 5 inches to 5 feet 6 inches tall]—a round face and a healthy, somewhat red colour, high forehead, yellow curly hair, a red moustache, ordinary nose, rather large blue eyes, stoops somewhat, narrow chest, round shouldered, speaks fairly good German, French, and English perfect"—the other man's description is, "He is married and his wife is, like him, a Swiss

subject; he comes from Charlotte Street, and he may be found there most likely. The brother of this man is twenty-one to twenty-two years of age; somewhat taller than his brother; he also stoops somewhat; has dark brown hair; is clean shaven; has a long face and is a very strong, healthy man; he speaks German; extremely silent in his manner; speaks very good French and English, and usually wears an ordinary dark suit of clothes; has an overcoat totally black and a black bowler hat."


OLD COURT.—Wednesday, December 13th, 1905.

Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-99
VerdictGuilty > insane
SentenceImprisonment > insanity

Related Material

99. HENRY EDWARDS (41) , Feloniously sending to Sir Joseph Savory, Baronet, a letter directed to him threatening to kill and murder him, he well knowing the contents of the said letter. Another Count. Sending a letter to Sir Joseph Savory demanding money to the amount of £200 from him with menaces and without any reasonable or probable cause, he well knowing the contents of the said letter.

MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. SCHILLER Defended.

SIR JOSEPH SAVORY . I live at Buckhurst Park, Sunninghill with Lady Savory, my wife—the property at Shrubshill belongs to me—some years ago I built some cottages there, under the best advice I could obtain—one of the cottages was let to the prisoner—at the time it was built it depended for its water supply on a well and rainwater tank—that was the only supply in the neighbourhood at that time to all the houses, whether mine or not—the prisoner paid me £25 a year rent in the autumn of 1900—he remained there till December 1st this year—in 1900 and 1901 there was very great scarcity of rain, and in the beginning of 1902 the water supply of the whole district quite failed—I received a number of letters from the prisoner with reference to the well at his cottage—I had the pumps attended to and then had the rainwater cistern and the well cleaned out—I then did my best to obtain a water supply from the South West Suburban Water Company—the company's mains, in the early part of 1902, were a quarter of a mile from this cottage which stood on a hill—in order to reach the cottage they had to come from another direction to get the pressure, so that it took seven or eight months before the company's water was supplied—in the meantime the prisoner had to go to an inn called "The Red Lion "for his water—in November, 1902, I learnt to my great sorrow that a son of the prisoner, aged seven or eight, died of diphtheria, and on the same day I got a letter from the prisoner referring to it—I wrote in reply expressing my grief at hearing of his sad loss, but pointing out that it was through no neglect of mine—I received no objectionable letters from the prisoner until early in 1904—in February, 1904, he suggested that he should remain at a rent of £20 instead of £25—at the same time the suggestions against myself were repeated—between March, 1904, and the present time 1 have had a number of letters from the prisoner, many of them referring to his boy's death—he has paid no rent since September,

1904—I received this letter on December 1st last, which I am now complaining of (Stating that the writer required compensation for the loss sustained, otherwise the penalty of refusal would be "the loss of your own life and that of your wife ")—I then applied for a warrant—I did and do fear violence from the prisoner, not only on my account but also my wife's.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner ever since he became my tenant—he is a man of good education—I do not know personally that he is a hard-working man—he used to lecture on apiaries—I am sure that the death of his boy upset him terribly—I think from that time he has had the idea that I was the source of all his misfortunes—I did my best to persuade him that I had done everything I could, but it was utterly futile—it was my finally getting rid of him that led to this very violent letter.

ARTHUR PENTIN (Police Inspector). On December 1st I took the prisoner into custody—I told him who I was and what I was arresting him for—he said, "I wrote the letter; I have been badly treated and I do not care what I say or what you say"—he was then taken to the police station.

Cross-examined. When in custody he seemed to collapse altogether—he was very reserved and would not say another word.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The scoundrel murdered my boy."

Evidence for the Defence.

DR. JAMES SCOTT . Since the prisoner has been at Brixton I have had him under observation—when he came in he was in a very dejected and prostrate condition—since then he has improved slightly, but the mental depression and emotionalism have continued; he has been continuously depressed—I have seen a copy of the letter he wrote to Sir Joseph Savory—the prisoner is not the kind of man who in a normal condition would write a letter like that—I had some long interviews on the subject with the prisoner, and all his views apparently were coloured by this intense hatred of Sir Joseph Savory, dating back to the loss of his son—I have not seen any evidence of any suicidal tendency—he told me the boy that died was his favourite child—I think that at the time he wrote the letter he was unable to appreciate the quality of his act, its wrongfulness or its illegality, or to think of the probable consequences to himself—I think he has a good chance of improving if taken from the old surroundings and is taken care of.

Cross-examined. His is a form of insanity I should describe as melan cholia, arising from brooding over his misfortune and allowing his mind to dwell on it for a long period—I think that medical treatment is decidedly the best for him.

GUILTY, but insane at the time he committed the act . To be detained during the King's pleasure.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-100
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

100. WILLIAM O'DONOVAN (22) and HARRY BIERMAN (18) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously breaking and entering the warehouse of Herbert James Croydon and others, and stealing and receiving therein two rugs and various other goods belonging to those persons. (See next case.)

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-101
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

101. WILLIAM O'DONOVAN was again indicted for feloniously shooting at Henry Garrod with a loaded revolver with intent to murder him, or to do him some grievous bodily harm, or to prevent his lawful apprehension and detention.


FRANK WEBB . I am a milkman living at 9, Carlyle Street, Soho—on November 22nd, about 6 a.m., I was going down Castle Street—I saw a barrow drawn up outside 41, Castle Street—I saw the prisoner draw up; I cannot say which—I saw the barrow loaded up with goods—I communicated with the police—the prisoner and Bierman drew the barrow away and passed me.

HENRY GARROD (334 C.) On November 22nd I saw the last witness—he made a communication to me—I kept observation and saw the prisoners with a coster's barrow come out of Winsley Street—they turned up Oxford Street East—on seeing me they let go the barrow and ran away—Bierman ran up Winsley Street and O'Donovan ran down Poland Street—I pursued the latter—when opposite No. 28 he turned round, pointed a revolver and deliberately fired—this is it—the bullet passed me on the right; I heard it pass—I was ten or twelve yards away at the time—I still pursued him—it seemed as if I were looking down the revolver—Sergeant Bailey came up and joined in the chase—the prisoner deliberately pointed the revolver at him, but he did not fire—the prisoner was captured in Portland Street—I went back and took charge of the property.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were not on one side of the street and I on the other when you fired—I say I was only ten to twelve yards from you.

FREDERICK BAILEY (36 C.) At 6 a.m. on November 22nd I was on duty in Poland Street—I heard a police whistle blown and a revolver shot discharged—I ran in the direction of the noise—I saw the prisoner running towards me, pursued by the last witness—he pointed the revolver at me and shouted, "I will shoot you"—he was about five yards away at that time—I chased him into Portland Street, when he presented the revolver at me—I closed with him—he said, "I'm done," and dropped the revolver, which I picked up—I extracted the revolver's charge at the station and found four ball and one discharged cartridge.

The prisoner: "I deny the second occasion of pointing the revolver."

ARTHUR REDDITCH (15 C.) On November 22nd I heard a police whistle blown and ran in the direction of it—I saw the prisoner running down Poland Street, closely followed by Bailey—I took up the chase—the prisoner turned into Portland Street, when he was caught by Bailey—he immediately turned round with the revolver in his hand and pointed it at Bailey with intent to fire—he then dropped it—I took him to the station—on the way be said, "You would not have caught me if I had not been drunk; I would have shot the b—lot of you"—he was quite sober—I searched him at the station and found this jemmy on him, held by this strap to his waist; also five ball cartridges, a quantity of lace, and a small bottle of poison.

The prisoner: "That poison was part of the burglary."

WILLIAM MANNING (Inspector C.) I was at the Marlborough Street police station when the prisoner was brought in—he refused all information about himself—he was sober—I afterwards found a bullet embedded in the woodwork of 150, Oxford Street, about an inch from the ground, which shop is immediately opposite Poland Street, and I paced the distance to be about seventy yards.

The prisoner: "I draw attention to the fact that the witness says the bullet was found one inch from the ground."

By the COURT. The bullet seemed to have travelled downwards.

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he fired only to scare the policeman.

GUILTY of shooting with intent to avoid lawful apprehension . It was stated that there were five convictions against O'Donovan and one against Bierman. O'DONOVAN— Five years' penal servitude. BIERMAN— Six months' hard labour. The witness Webb was commended by the COURT.

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, December 13th, 14th, 15th and 16th, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-102
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

102. GEORGE STILL, After presentation of a bankruptcy petition against him, attempting to account for £300 of his property by fictitious losses. Another Count. Not disclosing all his property to his trustee for the benefit of his creditors.


GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger at the Bankruptcy Court and produce the file of the bankruptcy of George Still—the petition was filed against him on April 10th, 1905—it was a creditor's petition—the receiving order was made on April 27th and a statement of affairs filed on May 15th—it shows liabilities £288 19s. 4d., and assets nil—the adjudication was on May 23rd—his public examination was held and concluded on June 6th—I find a transcript of it here on the file, which purports to be signed by the defendant on each page.

HENRY PARKHOUSE . I am a surveyor and assessor, and one of the firm of Rouch & Co., of 7, Queen Victoria Street, City—I act as assessor for the National Burglary Assurance Company, Limited—I produce a proposal form signed by the prisoner, and dated November 11th, 1903—in it the average daily takings are stated to be £14, the amount placed in the safe at night £40 to £80, and the property to be insured £300, and cheques, bills, notes, and stamps secured in the safe to the amount of £100—there is also an undertaking to keep a record of cash required in the place other than the safe—that proposal was accepted and the policy produced issued on December 27th, 1904—premium was paid, including 2s. 1d. for the odd time up to Christmas, 1903—fifteen days of grace are allowed—I also produce a letter from the prisoner dated December 27th, 1904 (Stating that his premises, the Prince Albert public-house, Peckham, had been broken into and the side of the safe broken out, and money stolen

to the extent of £300)—on January 2nd the defendant sent in a claim for £313 15s.—that we received on January 3rd—the details produced, given by the defendant, amount to a total of £312 5s.—I went to the premises on January 7th, shortly after the burglary, when the defendant showed me over them—I saw the lavatory window—these two photographs represent the safe as I saw it—the defendant said that the thieves had evidently got in through the lavatory window, moved the glass over the door, and got into the bar parlour where the safe was—the door of the lavatory opens into a passage which leads into the house—he gave as a reason for having so much money in the house that after Christmas time he wanted a lot of change, because some clubs met in the house, and the members had cigars and other goods of him for which they presented vouchers which he handed to the secretary of the club, and that change was required—I also produce the defendant's receipt for £80 in satisfaction of his claim.

Cross-examined. I do not know whether the insurance agent is connected with the public-house broker—I advised my company to pay—the defendant could not claim to the full the amount of his policy—I think he claimed about £112—the compromise of £80 was a good one for him so far, but I had not seen everything—I asked him questions which he answered frankly, and I was not suspicious—my company have made no charge against him—we allowed nothing for the cigars, and nothing for the pin that was lost—he practically got what he was entitled to—I do not know that he was dissatisfied—he said that the club that met at his house had required a lot of silver for change the previous Christmas and I did not quarrel with him about that.

Re-examined. The receipts were handed to me which from time to time had been given to the defendant.

JAMES MCLAUCHLEN (Police-Sergeant R.) I produce a plan of the Prince Albert public-house, Peckham—it is correct and made to scale.

FRANK CALLINGHAM WHEELER . I am an examiner in the Department of the Official Receiver in Bankruptcy—I produce the defendant's preliminary examination which I took on May 6th, and which was signed by him in my presence. [The portions of the transcript of this examination were then read, which referred to the alleged burglary of the defendant's premises on December 27th, 1903, and the damages and losses sustained by him thereby.]

JOHN CONWAY (183 P.) I was on duty on December 26th last from 10.10 p.m. till 6 a.m. on December 27th and passed the Prince Albert public-house about every half-hour—it is at the corner of Rosemary Road and East Surrey Grove—I work on my beat to the right and pass the house on my left on the other side of the way on my return—I heard no noise or anything to excite my suspicion.

Cross-examined. I shall have been two years in the police force on February 15th next—I know of one other burglary in the neighbourhood before this—I wore the usual boots with rubber heels—I did not see any suspicious characters in that neighbourhood on that night—I passed other constables, but we are not allowed to stop and converse, only to speak as we pass.

EDWARD BADCOCK (Inspector P.) Information was received at the police station on the morning of December 27th last year that a burglary had taken place at the Prince Albert public-house—I went there about 9.30 a.m. and saw the defendant, who pointed out various places on those premises—I went in at the front door at the corner of the house and passed to the lavatory at the back, passing through the second bar of the coffee room, and past the stairs—he pointed out to me that an upright iron bar had been pulled away from a window in the lavatory and was standing in a corner of the lavatory—it had been fastened by two screws at the top and bottom—I noticed that the sill of the window near the aperture was covered with dust and there were old cobwebs, but no marks upon the sill—the dust had probably been there for months and the cobwebs were hanging across the aperture—there was no glass, but simply an aperture with three bars—the right-hand bar had been removed from the inside of the lavatory—the outside of the window sill was damp or wet and there was an accumulation of wet dust upon it, which was old, and the place was very dirty—the dust had not been disturbed in any way—the pill is about seven or eight feet from the ground, where there is a gulley hole or sink—there was not the slightest scratch on the wall such as must have been made had anyone climbed it—there was a back door through which it would have been easy to enter, because a small piece of glass was missing from the window near the lock and the door was not secured by the bolt—the defendant told me that he was the last up and that he had secured all the other doors and windows and that the aperture referred to was the only one by which anyone could have entered—the door had not been tampered with—there were no marks upon the bolts as if they had been knocked back—I saw no signs of violence on the door—I noticed marks on the top of the door from the lavatory into the passage as if a jemmy had been inserted and an attempt made to prize it from inside the lavatory, and a large ground glass panel had been prized out from the upper part of the beading of the door, and broken—about three-fourths of it was whole and standing against the wall in the lavatory, and two or three broken pieces lying on the ground against it—the door into the kitchen was uninjured—on the door from the kitchen into the parlour were marks of cutting, as if someone had made a small hole by the lock with some instrument—the panel was turned out, and there were some large splinters—there is one panel in the upper part of that door—the splinters were lying against the door in the kitchen as if that panel had been torn bodily out—it was a small hole in the first instance, but afterwards almost the whole panel had been torn out and a hole made big enough for a grown-up person to get through—the door had a lock, but no bolts—in the parlour an iron safe of about 3 cwts. was lying on its side—the upward outer sheet of the safe had been removed—one of these photographs shows the condition of the safe—the inner lining has been bashed back—standing by it I could see into the safe—lying round the safe was the sawdust and sand, and whatever composes the lining—a hole had been made in

the outer covering, and there was sawdust between—the outer sheet had been removed altogether—some of the rivets fastening the outer and the inner sheets were cut through, evidently with a cold chisel—I traced the process of the chisel through several rivets, and it looked as if the chisel had been struck with a hammer repeatedly—some sharp instrument had been struck into the inner lining, and then turned back, as if the opening had first been made by a sharp chisel or punch, and then the lining turned back, assisted by some instrument such as a chisel struck with a hammer—the hole made was about 10 inches or a foot from one end to the other, and was of a circular form—I tried the cash box which had been in the safe, and it just came through the hole—I examined all the outer doors and the gates of the yard—the gates, which open into East Surrey Grove, have been newly painted—they are marked on the plan as 9 feet 6 inches high—I should say they are about 9 feet—the morning was exceedingly dirty, but there were not the slightest marks on the gates of anyone having climbed on them—there is a wicket gate with a handlock, and the keyhole outside—that was fastened—I saw no key in it—I found it locked—the defendant said, "I was the last to bed about 1 o'clock. I saw all the doors and windows secured, and I am quite sure there was no one locked on the premises"—that was in answer to a question of mine—he said that his mother, himself, a brother, and the potman were sleeping on the premises, but he did not specify the bedrooms in which they slept—he said, "We were all in sleeping rooms at the top of the stairs, but we never heard a sound"—I should say considerable noise must have been made in effecting the damage which I saw—you could not muffle the noise so that it could not be heard, although you could deaden the noise of a chisel, as thieves often do, by a piece of carpet, but I noticed the carpet had not been disturbed—the defendant said he had discovered the burglary at 7.30 a.m., and the property he mentioned as having lost has been put into a report by Inspector Morgan—I asked the defendant if the change money in the till was safe, and he said, yes, he had taken it up to bed with him over night—I asked him why he did not put it in the safe—he said because he considered it would be safer upstairs—I remarked it was strange he should leave a large amount downstairs in the safe, and take such a small amount upstairs; I do not remember his answer, but he said he thought it was safer up there—the first thing I asked was whether his cigars were safe, and he went into the bar and looked round—when he came back he said the thieves had not touched the cigars or the spirits, and he went on to say that he had not much sale for cigars, and that he kept a very small supply—refreshing my memory by the report, he said he had £300 in the safe, and that £120 of that was in silver, and the remainder in gold—on December 29th, in consequence of a message from the defendant, I wept there again, when he told me that he found that the thieves had taken, I believe, twenty boxes of cigars from the bar, or the bar parlour—I do not remember whether the cash box was damaged—I think the defendant's suggestion is right that it was not damaged.

Cross-examined. Sergeant Smith was the first to see the premises—he is now an inspector—I went in and out of the house several times—this appears to be the iron bar (Produced)—I cannot say whether a piece was missing from the top of it when I saw it—it had been screwed or nailed into an iron frame—the wood work was old—the aperture was about 20 inches across, and nearly 2 feet 6 inches high, about the size of one of the squares of the windows in this Court—I do not know that Smith said he saw no cobwebs; I only say there were cobwebs when I visited the place—the hall window may have had twelve or more panes of glass; there was a broken pane near the right-hand corner at the bottom—my experience is that a burglar selects the easiest way of getting into premises—I made inquiries within three days of the alleged burglary, and came to the conclusion there was nothing in it—there was very little in the bar parlour besides the sate—the defendant seemed ready to give me every information—I did not point out the cobwebs because I felt perfectly certain he was stating an untruth, and from experience I waited for further explanation.

Re-examined. I saw no dirty footmarks in the lavatory, although it was a dirty night, but I might say the place was too dirty to see any marks—there were no marks of footsteps going towards the lavatory—I did not notice any steps hanging outside the lavatory—there was a tub about a foot from the window; I did not notice whether there was anything in it—I cannot say whether it had been moved.

EDWARD JOHN PINKS (649 P.) On December 26th I was on duty from 10.10 p.m. till 6 a.m. on the 27th—on my beat I pass the Prince Albert public-house on the opposite side of the Rosemary Road about every forty-five minutes, and about the same time as Constable Conway—I saw nothing unusual there—I heard no hammering.

Cross-examined. I have been in the force about fourteen months, and without a burglary—a burglar might stop hammering if he thought there was a policeman about—I did not notice the parlour shutters.

CHARLES EDWARD BARNES (428 P.) On December 27th last year I was on duty from 6 a.m. till 10 a.m.—I passed the Prince Albert public-house about 6.30, and again at 7.15 a.m.—I heard nothing unusual—no complaint was made to me—if I had seen anyone coming out of the house I should have stopped him if I did not know him, and asked him what he was doing there—I am pretty well acquainted with the neighbourhood—part of my duty is to examine gates and doors on my beat—I tried these gates at 7.15 a.m.—they were secure and correct—I examined the wicket gate, and that was all right.

Cross-examined. If I had seen anybody I should have known whether they belonged to the place—I know the window of the bar parlour has shutters right up to the top—you could not see any light.

WILLIAM SMITH (Inspector R.) I was station sergeant at Peckham police station on December 27th—I received information from the Prince Albert about 8.55 a.m.—I went with the defendant into the bar parlour—I saw a safe there, with the outer casing torn off, and a considerable hole punched in the side where the casing had been taken off—these two

photographs represent the condition of the safe, except that the outer casing was hanging to the safe by a few of the rivets, and there was a quantity of sand and sawdust on the floor—I imagine a hole had been made in the safe by some blunt instrument—I think the outer casing had been prized off, and that the hole in the inner casing had been punched through by some more or less blunt instrument—very considerable noise must have been made—nothing was mentioned about anyone having been disturbed—I went into the lavatory, and then into the backyard—I found a bar had been pulled off the lavatory aperture; this bar looks like it, but I inferred that no thief had got through there, because there was dust on the ledge, both inside and outside—I should say it was impossible to get through that aperture without removing some of the dust—I did not notice anything else except that the place was very dirty—a great deal of glass was lying on the floor near the lavatory door—I did not observe any marks near that door—it was a wood floor.

Cross-examined. I examined the safe—its appearance suggested that a certain amount of force had been used—I cannot say that it appeared to have been snapped right across the outer casing—I did not notice any "successive "marks of a chisel, as spoken to by Inspector Badcock—it is impossible to say how long the dust had been there, but I should say at least two days—I did not notice any cobwebs—I do not remember seeing them, but it is twelve months ago now—the place was not very clean—I did not see any foot-marks—the safe could not have been opened without making a noise—I have heard of safes being opened, but they have not come under my observation—I have not heard of any safe having been opened in a similar manner of this one—no doubt safes have been opened in that way before, but I do not know of one myself.

JAMES SPENCE (Inspector P.) I remember going with Smith to inspect the Prince Albert—we first inspected the lavatory—I found that a large panel had been taken from the lavatory door—some of the pieces were lying about the floor, and a large piece was leaning against the wall—I saw that a round bar had been removed, and was standing against the lavatory wall—there was a quantity of dust on the window ledge, which was quite dry inside, but not outside, and there was no mark on the window ledge—a quantity of cobwebs were hanging from the upper part of the window, and clinging to the side—I believe two bars were left in the window—I did not measure it, but I should say the aperture was large enough to get through sideways, say 9 or 10 inches, but to get through, a man must have left marks, and also have removed some of the cobwebs—it was a tight matter to get through—the bar appeared as if it had been pulled or pushed out; there were no marks on the wood work to show that it had been wrenched from the outside—if it had been pushed from the outside it must have disturbed the dust from the window ledge, but if from the inside it need not, so that I concluded that the bar had been removed from the inside of the window—I found the safe lying on its side in the middle of the bar parlour, and a quantity of sawdust was lying round the safe, and several of the rivets were cut, as though with a hammer or chisel—the rivets appeared to belong to the inner case; the outer case

appeared to have been lifted from the frame all the way round—there was a distinct hole cut through the inner lining—I examined the outer gates, which had been newly painted; there were no marks of dirt upon them—they were about 8 feet high—there must have been dirt upon them if they had been climbed, but there was none, and no scratches on the paint.

Cross-examined. The woodwork of the scullery window was damaged and worm eaten, and there was no difficulty in moving the bar.

WILLIAM THOMAS MCMURTRIE . I am the secretary of the Cannon Brewery Company—the Prince Albert was the property of that company—it was for sale in September, 1903, and was acquired by the defendant, who took a lease of it—he had to pay £5,000, and the company advanced £4,771 on a first mortgage—he went into possession in October, 1903—accounts were collected from him; I did not collect them—payments were made regularly until just before Christmas, 1904, to our collector, Arthur Richard Dewing—I received this cheque, dated December 23rd, 1904, from Mr. Dewing for £115 on the 24th—it was returned from the bank marked "R. D."—it was paid in again, and again returned—it has not been met up to the present time—on December 29th the defendant called on me at the brewery—he said he called about the cheque not having been met, and he said that the reason was that there had been a burglary at the house on December 27th, and that £300 was in the safe, that the police said it was the work of experts, that it had been done by tools specially made for the purpose, and that he was insured for £100—I told him that he would have to pay cash for any goods delivered—refreshing my memory from a note made at the time, on January 4th I wrote to him to call and see me and bring his pass book—when he called with it I found that nothing had been paid into the bank since December 7th, that £40 had been withdrawn on the 12th, and £13 on the 27th—I asked him why those two amounts had been withdrawn, and he said for change—I also asked him why he kept so much money in the house, and why he had not paid it into the bank—he said that there were clubs that met at that house, that at Christmas time they paid out large sums, and that he had retained this money for the purpose of changing the money—he made no further payment, and we took possession about March—I went to the house on Friday, December 30th, the day after he first came to see me—he showed me the safe, and where the burglars were supposed to have broken in, and he said, no one had heard the damage being done.

Cross-examined. We are very careful about tenants, and select persons of good character to take up licences—we obtain three references—the police make their own inquiries—the defendant put £300 into the business apart from our loan and apart from the distiller's advance, being the balance of the purchase money—a very fair business was done, about 120 to 130 barrels a month, apart from wines and spirits—the distillers are the Mile End Distillery Company—up to the time of the alleged burglary the payments were fairly kept up—up to that time we delivered beer at monthly payments, giving him plenty of time to sell a good deal of the beer before we got any money at all—after our interview I told him we must have cash in the future until something was paid off the account.

ARTHUR RICHARD DEWING . live at Glassmere Road, and am a collector for the Cannon Brewery Company—I collected from the defendant every twenty-eight days—on December 23rd, 1904, I called at the Prince Albert—I saw the defendant in the bar—I usually receive payments in the bar parlour by cheque—he asked me not to come into the bar parlour, but to come into the saloon bar—this was between 1 and 2.30, where I had never before had payments when the family had been at lunch—I got this cheque for £115, being £80 for beer, £15 for loan, and £20 for interest.

Cross-examined. That cheque was subsequently dishonoured—I had always collected for the Cannon Brewery Company—up to that time the defendant's cheques had been properly honoured—I had generally called about the same time, or within about half an hour—the family were never at meals when I was there—I was not told that they were having lunch at that time—I did not think anything of it—I had been in the saloon bar before, but very seldom—I was afterwards told about the burglary by the secretary—I do not recollect whether I was told by the defendant—I called again in another twenty-eight days—I have to make up the books each time I call.

WILLIAM HENRY MILES . I am a collector for the Mile End Distillery Company, who advanced the defendant £900 on a second mortgage when he entered into possession of the Prince Albert in 1903—we supplied him with spirits, and I went to collect money for the stock, and interest on the loan every twenty-eight days—I collected from him this cheque on the City & Midland Bank for £104 1s. which is signed "George Still"—that was paid into the company's account on December 27th and returned marked "Refer to Drawer"—it was paid in a second time, and returned—it has not been paid up to the present time—I called on him again about January 26th, when I knew of the burglary, and that he had had the money from the assurance—when I called on January 19th he said he had had to pay cash to the brewer, and he could not pay me anything—I think £150 was mentioned—on the 26th I told him that I had heard that he had had the assurance money, and that I thought it was only fair that he should pay the Distillery Company, as he was using spirits all this time that he had not paid for—he said he would not give me anything, as matters were in confusion with the brewery, and he did not know how they were going to turn out.

Cross-examined. On December 23rd (I believe a Friday) I was there between 2 and 3 o'clock—to the best of my belief I was paid the cheque in the bar parlour, but I cannot swear that—I have been paid two or three times in the sitting room, and I may have been paid there, but I do not remember—there is a little window, but it is all part of the saloon bar.

RICHARD PIGE WHITEHEAD . I produce a copy of the policy of assurance issued to George Still, of the Prince Albert, dated November 25th, 1903, for £400, £100 of which was cash in the safe, and £300 for the stock-in-trade—the £300 includes damage done to the premises in the case of burglary.

Cross-examined. Mr. T. G. Green was the agent who introduced that to the office.

THOMAS JOHN GREEN . I am agent for the National Burglary Corporation

—I introduced the defendant to that company in December, 1903, and on December 23rd I collected the first premium of £1 13s.—I gave a receipt.

Cross-examined. I introduced the defendant to the company in the usual way of business—I sold him the house—I was broker for the brewers—I was acting on behalf of the Cannon Brewery Company.

EDWARD WILLIAM PARSONS . I am claim prospector of the National Burglary Assurance Corporation—on December 27th, 1902, a claim was made upon our office in this letter, which I received on the 28th, signed "George Still." (This stated that Still's premises had been broken into, and money which he estimated to be about £300 had been stolen; that he had given information to the police, and that he was awaiting the company's inspection)—in the particulars of his claim he gave the amount of gold and silver as £300, and there were other things bringing the total up to £313 12s.—the safe was not included—there is also attached a statement of claim as required by the terms of the policy—on January 17th we got a filled up form, which was forwarded to our assessor, who settled the claim at £80.

Cross-examined. Still signed an acceptance which was issued by our assessor—I was not aware that he declined to sign a statement that he was satisfied.

ALFRED TOWNSEND . I am cashier at the London City & Midland Bank, Pall Mall Branch—I produce a certified copy of George Still's account from November 13th, 1903, to January 26th, 1904—it has been copied from the bank ledger—the defendant used to pay in about once a week—the last payment in was on December 7th, 1902, of a sum of £45 5s.—that was a little smaller than the average for the latter part of the year—it was paid in under the heading of cash and cheques; sundries, we call it in the pass book—on December 20th, the first thing in the morning, his credit was £2 0s. 9d., and in the evening there was £1 14s. 3d. overdrawn—nothing was paid in between the 20th and the 27th—there was drawn out on December 23rd £1 10s. 6d., and on the 27th £13; that is to say, we cashed cheques for those amounts—there was a payment into the account on December 30th of £16 5s. to meet the overdrafts—on January 26th £80 was paid in, and drawn out the same day—the cheques produced to-day were returned marked "R. D."—they were again presented on the 29th, and again returned—when the £80 was paid in and drawn out the account was practically closed.

Cross-examined. The 23rd might have been the drawing date—the earliest time the cheques could be cashed would be on the Tuesday morning at 9 o'clock, as the bank would not open before the 27th.

ALFRED GEORGE DUKE . I live at 2, Groumont Road, Peckham, and am trustee of the Money Loan Club held at the Prince Albert, which has a customary distribution among the members at Christmas—in 1904 this took place on December 17th, and the money was obtained from the Post Office Savings Bank through a cheque on the London & South Western branch of the Bank of England—the defendant changed £5 worth of coppers, for which I gave him gold on December 17th, 1904—we divided

the money left in the club between the members as usual, each member having paid in 6d. per share—1d. or 2d. per week is paid by each member to be spent in the house when we hold a club, and that is handed over to the landlord of the house—that is returned in vouchers to the members, or small tickets or dockets for 8s. 4d., or whatever the members have paid in—on December 17th I paid the defendant £85 8s. 6d. in gold and silver—he did not provide us with any gold this year, but the previous year he provided us with £200 in silver—no one had intimated to him that we should not require it this year—we drew out straight from the Post Office.

Cross-examined. My co-trustees and myself made the arrangements with him—I did not tell him we should not want the money in this year, but he might have supposed that we should, as we had done in 1903.

JOHN BROUGHTON KNIGHT . I am an examiner in the Official Receiver's Department of the Court of Bankruptcy—I have been engaged in the investigation of the affairs of George Still—£41 9s. 3d. was realized—his public examination is on the file—I know his writing—it is signed by him. (The passages relating to the alleged burglary were then read.)


11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-103
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

103. JEAN ROGER (30) , Uttering a counterfeit half-sovereign twice on the same day.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. SANDS Defended.

(The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.)

EMILY MAUD CORK . I am a clerk at the Post Office, 79, High Street, Stoke Newington, which, I think, is about two miles from the Post Office, in Mare Street, Hackney—on November 2nd a woman came into the Post Office about 5.30 p.m. and asked for two £1 postal orders—she put down a sovereign and two half-sovereigns—I sounded the coins on the counter, and one sounded soft—I weighed it and found it light—the woman spoke in broken English, but I could understand it—I said, "The Commission will be 3d." and "I cannot take this half-sovereign; it is a very light one. Do you know where you got it from?"—she said her mistress had given it to her, and that she knew nothing about it—I said, "I cannot give you the order, I cannot accept that," and I gave her back the money—the coin was similar to this in pattern.

Cross-examined. She looked like a foreigner—I said at the Police Court I could not be positive the prisoner was the woman—I knew a woman had been arrested.

FLORENCE GROAT . I am a Post Office clerk at 305, Mare Street, Hackney—on Thursday, November 2nd, the prisoner came into the Post Office between 7 and 7.30 p.m.—she asked for two £1 postal orders, in very good English; I could understand her very well—she laid one sovereign and two half-sovereigns on the counter and 3d. in coppers—I saw that one of the half-sovereigns was counterfeit—I gave it her afterwards—a policeman was sent for—I asked her where she got that half-sovereign from—she said her mistress gave it to her at Shepherd's Bush—the police came.

Cross-examined. She was in the office, I think, about five minutes—it is not a large office—there is another clerk—there were several people at the counter—Miss Cohen was gone about three minutes for the police—the prisoner stayed at the counter, but I had all her money and the orders—so far as I know, she understood—she was dressed in a mackintosh and a motor cap, and her hair was like it is now at the back—Miss Cohen said at the Police Court that the prisoner did not seem to understand, but I was not there.

CHARLES KIMPTON (328 J.) I was called into the Post Office at 305, Mare Street, Hackney, on Thursday, November 2nd, by Miss Cohen—I saw the prisoner, and Miss Groat informed me in her presence that she had passed a bad half-sovereign—I asked the prisoner whether she knew that the coin was bad, and she said, "No, my mistress gave it to me, and she lives at Shepherd's Bush"—I asked her whether she had any more money?—she said, "Yes"—she then gave me another good half-sovereign from her purse—she spoke in broken English, but I could understand—I took her to the station, where I asked her for the address where she took that coin, and the inspector took her address.

Cross-examined. The bad coin was handed to me by Miss Groat—she gave me the other from her purse, where there were some pawn-tickets.

ELIZABETH CREASEY . I am female searcher at the Hackney police station—the prisoner was handed over to me—on searching her I found 1s. 7d. in her purse and some pawn-tickets—one was for a walking stick pawned at Attenborough's in the name of Jean Roger, of 22, Langham Street.

HERBERT TAYLORH (Detective J.) I was present at the Hackney police station when the prisoner was brought in—the distance between the Post Office at Mare Street, Hackney, and Stoke Newington is nearly two miles—trams run between the two Post Offices, not direct; you have to change at Kingsland Gate—at the station I said to the prisoner, "You are brought here for uttering a counterfeit half-sovereign; where do you live?"—she said, "I live at 22, Langham Street, Leicester Square; I got the half-sovereign from my mistress, who lives at 54, Ormiston Road, Shepherd's Bush"—she said, "I got £4 two days ago from them; they have gone now to Egypt"—she was brought before the Magistrate the following morning and remanded—she asked me to see her in the cell—I went there, where she handed me this slip of paper, on which is "M. Thieblemant, Bidborough Street, St. Pancras," and she said in broken English that was to make inquiries as to her character—I went to that street, and I have the gentleman here—I have since received this letter from Mrs. Knight, of 10, Palmer Street, who is here—I went to Palmer Street, and from what I learned there I went to 82, Ormiston Road, but she gave me No. 54—82, Ormiston Road, is a flat, or half a house, or maisonette, for it is self-contained—there are a series of flats—there I saw a Frenchman named Cure, and a Frenchwoman named Cure, on about November 7th—they are not living there now—I went to 22, Langham Street, Leicester Square, a turning off the Tottenham Court Road, near Oxford Street, and found that it was a building newly erected

in the place of an old one which has not been occupied for months—the new building is not let—I have seen it in course of erection.

Friday, December 15th.

H. TAYLOR (Re-called). I saw the prisoner write this paper at the police station—some of it is scratched out in red ink, because she wrote "Jean Roger, 22, Lile"—she scratched it out in black lead—the inspector on duty wrote, and said, "Is that right?"—she nodded her head and said, "No," and he scratched it out, and then she wrote "Cure" and the officer put "Shepherd's Bush"—she said Cure was her master—she was speaking in broken English—she said that her mistress gave her £4 "two days ago, but they have now gone to Egypt."

Cross-examined. I had some, but not great, difficulty in making the prisoner understand—the inspector helped her by correcting her, writing on the paper—a letter from her was addressed to me in French, and has been translated [The translation detailed where the prisoner had travelled with her late mistress, who still owed her money for wages, and repeated her statement that she was the victim and got the orders to pay what she owed to her landlady and at a restaurant, when she was afterwards with the Sarah Bernhardt troop in London]—from inquiries at 10, Palmer Street, I satisfied myself that she had lived there three weeks or a month, and had left a blouse there—I do not know whether she was engaged at the Coronet Theatre—I disbelieved her story that she was with the Bernhardt troop—the information she gave me was somewhat broken and disjointed—four of these coins have been returned from the bank to the Post Office after the person has obtained the orders and gone away.

Re-examined. Between October 30th and November 13th are the dates when the coins were returned—they are from similar moulds, and dated 1890, 1893, and 1898.

MARY BROWN . I am schoolmistress at Holloway prison—while under detention the prisoner asked me if I would ask the governor to permit her to write a statement in French that it might be translated into English for the Magistrate—she got permission, and when she had written the letter herself on a slate in French I read it over to her—she said that was what she wished stated, and was quite right—I translated what I look to be her statement—I do not think I read my translation to her—the slate I returned to the prison, and it has been cleaned long ago—this passage from the letter is correct: "November 16th, 1905. To the Magistrate. Sir,—Being unable to speak English, with extreme regret I beg to address you in this letter in order to prove to you I am a victim and not culpable. I received this coin in all confidence and gave it in payment of two postal orders, and I had no hesitation in doing so. I went into the first Post Office that I found on my way, and into no other. The lady who came against me on Friday, the first witness, and said she believed she knew me, but was not sure, was wrong. If it had been French money I should have known it was bad, but I do not understand any other. I trust you will take this into consideration and be indulgent to me"

Cross-examined. The letter was not in good educated French, it was badly written and badly put together—I made myself perfectly sure that I bad translated what she wished said—it was difficult—I had not seen the letter addressed to the police—neither the "Tube" nor the "Club" was mentioned.

ANNIE KINITHT . I am the landlady of 10, Palmer Street, Notting Hill Gate, near the Coronet Theatre—on June 24th the defendant took a bed-sitting room as Mrs. Roger for her husband and herself—her husband stayed one week—she took the room for two weeks—she remained a month altogether—her husband was in the Sarah Bernhardt troop and went away when they went, and the French performances came to an end—she went away owing me money and left a blouse and a few things behind.

GUSTAV THIEBLEMANT (Interpreted). I am a cook—I live at 103, Charlotte Street—I have known the prisoner fifteen years—I had her in my service three years at Brussels, in 1889, 1890, and 1891—I have seen her on several occasions since—I have not employed her since 1891.

Cross-examined. She has worked in kitchens, and at seaside hotels at Ostend—I am French—she comes from Paris, or near Paris, where she was in my service—she came to see me in London and my wife also several times.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—this coin is made of base metal of the half-sovereign type—it is many years since I have seen one like it—it is of finished work by a good maker, thinly gilt—I am told they are passed in large quantities in Birmingham.

Cross-examined. The coin might deceive anyone not acquainted with coins, but there is three times the weight in a good half-sovereign.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I got the money, but I did not know it was bad. If it had been French money I might have known it was bad, but to me it was foreign money."

The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that she had obtained the coin in part payment of her wages as a respectable servant to Madame Curd at 74, Ormiston Road, Shepherd's Bush, after having been in the service of Madam Eva at Ostend; that the orders were to pay her landlady and the proprietress of a restaurant in Greek Street, to whom she owed money, but that she told the policeman her address was in Lisle Street, near the Hippodrome and Leicester Square, that she got the orders in Hackney because she had lost her way, not knowing London; but that she did not know the money was bad.

GUILTY of single uttering . Six months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-104
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

104. FRANCISCO RINALDO (60) , Feloniously decoying Rachel Boolke, a girl aged four and a half years old, with intent to deprive the parents of her custody.

MR. GOODWIN Prosecuted.

MARY BOOLKE (Interpreted). I now live at 41, Warden Street, East End—I have four children—Rachel, the one I found, is my daughter—

she is now nine years old—when I missed her she was four and a half—the prisoner lodged with me for seven months to about February, 1901—I missed my daughter when the prisoner left—four weeks yesterday I saw the child again—when I missed the child I went to the police station—I did not give the prisoner permission to take the child away—I have been looking for the child ever since I lost it; I have lost a fortune in seeking for my child—I have been two years in Russia, and my husband, and he travelled to Wales in order to find the child—four weeks ago I saw the child in the house of Mr. Isaacs—I saw the prisoner in the Police Court in Arbour Square.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I had three children—I was going to have another child—then there would be six persons in two rooms, and, when you came to lodge, seven people to live in two rooms—we managed to live—I wanted a lodger because I did not have enough to keep up such a house—you occupied at first the small and then the bigger room, and at my confinement my husband went to sleep in your room—there were two windows in one room and one in the other—you sometimes gave notice, but still you remained there—I did not undress Rachel and put her to bed in your bed—she never slept with you—my husband is in Russia—he is ill in Poland—I have two sons—they are in Russia—I left Russia to attend this Court—my eldest son is fourteen years old—they are not here, because the fare from Russia to England is not 2 1/2 d.—it is too expensive; besides, my husband is ill—the detective spoke to me, but when I was speaking in Court he was silent—I arrived from Russia four weeks ago yesterday—the journey from Lodz, in Poland, takes six to eight days—I was travelling from Sunday till Thursday, five days—I was informed my child was found by the police—I received a telegram from my uncle—I arrived at 8 and gave my evidence at 11 the same morning.

BENJAMIN LESON (Detective H.) On October 25th I saw the missing child at Forest Gate leaving the board school about 12 o'clock—I followed her to 73, Station Road, a private house, a portion of which is used as a barber's shop—the child entered, and a minute or so later I followed her into the shop—the prisoner was nursing the child—I said to him, "Your name is Francisco Rinaldo"—he replied, "I decline to tell you"—I was with another officer, and I said, "We are police officers"—he said, "I am not such a fool that I do not know that"—I proceeded to read this warrant to him—he interrupted and said, "You do not want to read that. The parents would not be able to identify the child. If they do they won't take it away from me. If they do I will follow it wherever it goes. I love it, and it has always been my companion"—when charged he made no reply—the mother has identified the girl.

Cross-examined. I did not speak to Mary Boolke when she was in the box—I sent a telegram to Lodz not to say you were arrested, but to say the child was found—that was the same night that you were arrested—I have not suffered from loss of memory—I do not look for promotion in this case—I cannot account for the father not being here—I know Russia is very much disturbed—I did not hear you, before the Magistrate, formally demand the attendance of the father—you asked for the father and the

son's attendance—the Magistrate asked me if they were present—you asked for the child to be called, but the Magistrate refused to call a child eight years old—at the police station you asked, "Where are the parents?" and I explained they were in Russia and would have to be sent for—they have been in Russia two years, I believe.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate;—"I wish to call witnesses, the father and brothers of the child, but they are in Russia."

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he took the child at the father's request and entreaty as a last service, as he was too poor to keep it, and that he did not let the parents know his whereabouts because the father was continually asking for assistance for the family and he himself was too poor to give it; that he wished to bring the child up, and told the officer who arrested him that he had brought up the child in such a way that the parents would not be able to recognise her; that he would give her up to the father, and had nothing to fear, but wished to be sure that the officers were genuine men.

BENJAMIN LEESON (Re-examined) When I arrested the prisoner he did not say to me that he had brought up the child in such a way, and there was such a difference in her that the parents would not be able to recognise her; nor that the father would not take her from him; nor that he would give her up to the father; nor, "I am willing to go with you. I have nothing to fear, but I wish to make sure you are genuine men"—a Mr. Isaacs was present and several other people, and the prisoner said a great deal in German which I could not understand—complaint was made the day the child was lost and information circulated in the usual way in the "Police Gazette" and in France and Russia.

MARY BOOLKE (Re-examined) I was in the back room when the prisoner vanished with the child from the front room—I did not see the child go away—she was half dressed, and without shoes and stockings, or her shoes were unbuttoned, and she was without a jacket—my husband was not at home at the time, about dinner time, between 1.30 and 4 p.m.—both my husband and myself went to the police station the day the child was lost, about 4 o'clock.

GUILTY . Three months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-105
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

105. MARGARET HUBERTY (46) , Keeping a brothel.

MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted.

GEORGE NEWMAN (13 d.) I know the prisoner as the occupier of 49, Whitfield Street—in consequence of complaints the police watched the premises from November 13th to 17th last—on November 13th, between 6.40 p.m. and 12.52 on the 14th, I saw nine couples enter and seven couples leave—three women took different men during that period—between 5.41 p.m. and 1.4 a.m. on the 14th I saw ten couples enter and eight couples leave—four of the women took two different men in—on the 15th, between 5.12 p.m. and 9.2 p.m., I saw six couples enter, four couples left, and two men left alone, and two women took two different men in—about 12.30 on the 16th there was a disturbance between the prostitutes residing in the house, and the prisoner, and the prostitutes shouted for the police from the first floor window—between 8.40 and 10.48 that evening I saw three

couples go to the house—after knocking, the door was opened by the prisoner, and they went away; she apparently spoke to them—they were the women using the place during the three preceding nights—four prostitutes resided there, and two did not—the same women went there again and again on different nights—I think they are well known as prostitutes frequenting the streets—on Friday, the 17th, a couple went to the door and knocked—the door was answered by the prisoner, who spoke to them, and they went away—after the disturbance the four prostitutes who had been residing in the house left.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. To my knowledge you were at the house about the beginning of November—two of the women went to reside there a few days after your occupation—the other two came about a week later—they were only there a few days; they came just prior to the 13th—I knew the way the house was being conducted, and I knew the women before they entered—the first two women went to reside there on November 4th—two resided on the first floor, and two on the second—I do not know that a man and his wife lived there, the man being employed at a cafe as a waiter, but that he is now in a lunatic asylum, and that the wife still remains in the house—I believe an Englishman and his wife, a Belgian woman, live there—as far as I know, they are respectable.

HERBERRT BUCK (184 d.) I watched the house 49, Whitfield Street, with the last witness on November 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th—I saw prostitutes and men go into the house together—the same number of prostitutes went into the house and came out as has been stated by the last witness—I have often seen the women take in different men on the same night—the prisoner generally opened the door to the women who did not live there—those who lived there had their own keys—three couples came to the door on the 16th and were not admitted, and one couple on the 17th.

ARTHUR FERRETT (Inspector D.) Shortly after 12 on the early morning of November 16th I was called to a disturbance that was going on at 49, Whitfield Street—I saw the prisoner and two women I did not then know, but they are here to-day, and their names are Miller and Heinen—the women spoke to me in English, and the prisoner in French, which was interpreted to me by another lodger from the top floor—I first saw the two women looking from the first floor window, and they told me that there was a man and a woman in the passage waiting to assault them—this caused a number of persons to assemble, and after about a quarter of an hour of knocking I was let in by a lodger from the first floor—I asked the prisoner what the disturbance was about, and she said, partly in broken English and partly through the interpreter, that these women who had been shouting from the window wanted to bring men into the house, and she would not allow it—the women who had then come downstairs said, "We have paid her 35s. for one week's rent for two rooms for the purpose of using them for prostitution, and she won't let us go out or bring men in unless we pay her 5s. for each man we bring in"—I asked the interpreter to tell the prisoner what was said and she replied, "It is a lie; they pay 8s. a week"—I told them the disturbance could not continue all night, and that they could settle their disputes before the Magistrate—

the women complained of having been assaulted, but I saw no sign of an assault—I said they had better go to their own rooms and settle their dispute in the morning, and there appeared to be no further disturbance that night—they did not come before the Magistrate—I saw two other women in the house—I do not know them, but they all said, they were prostitutes—one of those women I saw in the street, and one on the top floor—they spoke good English, but one is French and the other Dutch—one woman was waiting in the street because the door could not be opened—she afterwards went to the top floor.

[The prisoner here said the inspector was doing his best to speak the truth, but one of the women paid 12s. 6d. for the front room, and the other 8s. for the back room; that they each paid 1s. for their morning food, and 2s. for the evening food, and that she opened the door to the inspector.]

Saturday, December 16th.

JESSIE HEINEN . About the beginning of November I took a furnished bedroom at 49, Whitfield Street, from the prisoner—I paid her 25s. a week in advance—I told her I wanted to ask my friends there—she said, "All right"—I told her it was to take gentlemen there—she saw me take gentlemen into the room, sometimes one, and sometimes two on the same night—she asked me in the morning how much the gentlemen gave me—when my gentleman left in the morning the prisoner said that he bad given me £2 or £3, and I said no, it was not that at all, and she said that because I did not tell her the truth I should have no luck—I told her the truth, but she would not believe it—on the night of November 15th to 16th, when I came to the front door, she came to me and I called the police because I could not go up to my room as I could not fight two men and a woman—I I had come in from the street alone—she struck me, and I asked her why—she said, "Do not speak to me; I am a very dangerous woman," then a gentleman came at the back of me, and said I should have to go upstairs, and I could not come down till the morning, but I shouted out of the window, and the police came—on this night the prisoner wanted 5s. for each gentleman who went out—I did not pay her that—Margaret Miller is my friend—there were two other lodgers; I do not know their names—Miller had the front, and I had the back room.

Cross-examined. I never had a rent book—I paid on the Tuesday every week 25s. in advance, I never had a receipt—each woman paid extra 1s. for breakfast and 2s. for dinner.

[The prisoner stated that she charged 6d. for breakfast, and 1s. for dinner, and that the witness was an abandoned woman, capable of stealing or murdering.]

MARGARET MILLER . On November 4th I took a room of the prisoner at 49, Whitfield Street—I paid her 12s. 6d. for two or three days for a room on the second floor, and then I went with my friend to the first floor, and we paid her £2 10s. for two rooms—I told her what we wanted the rooms for, and she said I was only to have two friends a day, and that she would charge 25s. each for that—I lived there till the 16th, when she made a bother—she took all the money—I had no money left—she was angry and got me by the throat—she said, "Do not anger me"—she got the poker to me, and I heard her in the parlour—I took men into the rooms—the saw them

come in, not every night, but when we could, but no more than two a day—she said she wanted 5s. more if one stayed the night—a disturbance took place one night, and I could not stop any longer—I wanted to leave the house at once, but she would not let me go down, and I was upstairs till the next day—there were other lodgers, but I cannot tell you whether they were doing the same business.

Cross-examined. You charged 6d. for a cup of coffee which we could not drink, and then 1s. for dinner. [The prisoner stated that she told these women to go away because she had respectable people in the house, and she discovered they were living immoral lives]—you never told us to go out, But I was going out—I am French.

By the COURT. I had not lived with the prisoner before, and did not know her character, or I would not have gone there.

ARTHUR HOLLAND (Inspector D.) On November 24th, about 10 p.m., I arrested the prisoner in Whitfield Street, within fifty yards of her house—I read the warrant to her—she replied, "Not me, Mister"—the warrant was for assisting in the management of a brothel—I went back and into the house with her—in the front room on the ground floor I saw her daughter, aged thirteen—that room contained a double bed—I went over the remainder of the house, consisting of nine other rooms—one room in the basement was empty—there was a bedstead in the course of erection, and a carpet was being laid, and it was being fitted up—the remainder of the rooms were bedrooms, and all unoccupied except one which was occupied by an Englishman, who gave me the name of Impey; he was there with a young Belgian girl, aged about twenty, who, he said, was his wife, but she could not speak English—she told me she had been in this country a fortnight—the prisoner produced to me the lease of her house, which was taken in the name of Margaret Huberty, for seven years, at £85 a year rental, and taxes—a man was with her at the time I arrested her—they had come out of the house together.

The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that she took the house at a very high rent as well as the taxes, as could be seen by the lease produced, and being anxious to let she may have let without sufficient inquiry, but she objected to the women bringing men in, and had no intention of keeping a brothel after her experience in Union Street, and said that the witnesses were telling lies. She admitted a conviction of keeping a brothel at 4, Union Street, on October 19th, 1905, when she was fined £20, but said that being anxious to make up the rental she had let the rooms without due care; she also admitted a conviction on February 12th, 1904, at Marlborough Street, of keeping a brothel at 11, Rathbone Place, when she was fined £5.

Evidence for the Defence.

GEORGE WESTERMAN . I live at 53, Edward Square, Caledonian Road—the only report I received about the prisoner was from a man employed by the last landlord in 4, Union Street, that the proposed tenants were sober, and paid the rent regularly, and on receiving a month's rent in advance I let the house.

Cross-examined. I made a desperate effort to find oat an address that had been given to me, of the prisoners' husband who was supposed to be employed at the Royal Club, Piccadilly, but I could find no such place.

GUILTY . Four months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-106
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

106. PETER THOMSON (45) , Feloniously marrying Annie Eileen Walden, his wife being alive. (See page 45.)

MR. SYDENHAM JONES Prosecuted; MR. W. H. THOMRNE Defended.

WILLIAM HAILSTONE (Detective T.) I produce a certified copy of the marriage certificate of Peter Thomson with Ada Turner on January 28th, 1892—Peter Thomson is described as a widower—the marriage was celebrated at the Registry Office in the Wandsworth district—this (Produced) is the certificate of the marriage between Peter Thomson and Annie Eileen Walden, on April 14th, 1903, in which he is described as a widower, and she as a widow—that form of marriage was gone through at the Registry Office at Edmonton—I also produce a copy of a will of Peter Thomson in favour of his wife "Ada Thomson" and her brother "Henry White," dated December 8th, 1902; also a deed of voluntary separation of February 11th, 1903—their address is given as 149. Lingfield Terrace, Lingford Road, Isleworth—I also produce a warrant for the amount mentioned in a maintenance order dated September 21st, 1903—I have obtained these documents from Ada Thomson, from Somerset House, and the Registry Office at Wandsworth—I have compared each with the original and they are correct.

Cross-examined. I also produce a copy of the certificate of marriage between Ada White and a man named John Owen Turner on December 10th, 1887—the prisoner has been fourteen years in the Metropolitan Police, from August 20th, 1888, to July 14th, 1902, when he left with a certificate of character marked "No. 1," which is the best character—he has also been a soldier in the Scots Guards.

JAMES TRIMMER . I live at 9, Church Road, Wandsworth—I was present on January 28th, 1892, at the marriage of the prisoner with Ada Turner—I have seen Ada Turner lately—she is alive and well.

Cross-examined. I did not know the prisoner before that marriage.

ANNIE EILEEN WALDEN . I live, at 36, Northfield Road, Ponder's End—I went through the form of marriage with the prisoner on April 14th, 1903, at the Registry Office at Edmonton.

Cross-examined. I first became acquainted with the prisoner when he was living opposite me in the Lingfield Road, Isleworth, in 1902, through having musical evenings—Ada Thomson, or Turner, used to come in and purchase things of me in business—I do not remember repeating a conversation I had had with Ada Thomson, but the prisoner told me she was not his wife—Ada Turner went by the name of Ada White as well—when the prisoner asked me to get married I said I did not want to enter into anything like that; then he said she was not his wife, and that her husband was alive when he married her—he told me her husband's

name was Jack Turner—he said that her sister Betty said to him, "You have no need to put up with her insults, because her husband was alive when you married her"—when I went through the form of marriage with the prisoner all these facts were within my knowledge—I was not deceived; he told me all about it, and said he never recognised her as his wife since his sister Betty had told him this tale, and that he never looked upon her as his wife—I did not make any inquiries because Ada had told me of it previously—I was then a widow—the prisoner has treated me as a thoroughly kind husband—we have never had a cross word since we have been married.

GEORGE WINTERS (222 T.) About 9 p. m. on December 2nd I went to 36, North field Road, Ponder's End—I found the prisoner living there under the name of Ellis—I told him I held a warrant for his arrest for arrears of maintenance of his wife, Ada Thomson—I read the warrant to him, and he replied, "She is no wife of mine; this is my wife," pointing to a lady who was in the house—I asked him if he had any proof, and he produced this certificate of marriage with the lady in the house, Annie Eileen Walden—I produce the warrant (Stating that the prisoner had been adjudged and ordered to pay 10s. a week to his wife, and that there was £1 10s. in arrear on September 21st, 1904)—I took him to Brentford, where he was taken before the Justices at Petty Sessions, remanded for a week, and at the end of that week he was charged with this offence—he replied, "She had a husband living when I married her"—the first wife spoken of as Ada Thomson is in this building to-day.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he believed he was free to marry, as Ada Turner's husband was alive at the time he married her; that he believed her to be a widow at the time, but from what he had heard he had reason to change that belief; that his sister Betty told him that Ada Turner's husband was not dead, but had deserted her six weeks after he had married her; that he had found the brother, David White; that a Mrs. Fiveash had asked her, "What do you think Jack Turner would say if he knew of this?" and that Mrs. Turner's reply was, "Shut up you b—fool."

Evidence for the Defence.

DAVID WHITE . I live at 65, Lingfield Road, Isleworth—this certificate purports to be a certificate of the marriage of my sister Ada with a man named Turner—they never lived long together as man and wife—they came to my farm near the Hanworth Road between 1886 and 1890—I believe they were then living together, and were passing as man and wife—in a conversation I had with her and the prisoner I asked her how she would get on if Turner should turn up—she said she should say she had had a letter to say he was dead—I said, "You will get into trouble; what would you say if the authorities asked for the letter?"—she said, "I should say I had burnt it"—she was married then to the prisoner and this conversation was in his presence—when I saw Turner he appeared a little over twenty years of age, and was a slim bit of a fellow, and looked like a groom—he wore a stand-up collar like a groom, but I do not think I should recognise him now.

Cross-examined. I was told Turner went away twelve months after the marriage—he said they had lived together four months—I believe

he worked at Putney in an omnibus yard, and I have seen them in Batter-sea—I was not present at their marriage—they only came to me once—I have not seen Turner lately, and do not know if he is dead.

MARY FIVEASH . I am the wife of Alfred Henry Fiveash, of 58, Gonsalva Road, Wandsworth—I knew the prisoner and the woman Ada in 1892, shortly after the marriage—they were next-door neighbours, and then they took rooms in my house—I told the prisoner he was no more Ada's husband than I was—Ada's sister said to her, "You would look funny if Jack Turner was to turn up"—Mrs. Turner was with me; she took me to see her sister—Mrs. Turner told her to shut her mouth, and she stopped it then—I told the prisoner, seeing the life he was leading, that he need not put up with it, and that I should leave her, as she was no more his wife than I was—I told him what my sister Betty had said.

Cross-examined. I did not know Turner—I heard from her sister that Ada was often the worse for drink, and that Turner was taken away for embezzlement.

GUILTY . One week's imprisonment.

FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, December 13th 14th, and 15th, 1905.

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K. C.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-107
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

107. THOMAS GREEK (34) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a cash box and 10s., the property of the National Telephone Company, Limited; also to stealing a coat and other articles, the property of George Thomas Mortimore; also to unlawfully having in his possession by night certain implements of housebreaking, having been convicted of felony at Newington Sessions on December 16th, 1903, as Herbert Green . Discharged on his own recognisances.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-108
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

108. HENRY THOMPSON (51) , Forging and uttering a transfer of 500 shares in the British Tea Table Company, Limited.



JOHN WISE . I was the secretary of the British Tea Table Company, of 1897, Limited, of 51, Farringdon Road, up to November, 1902—it has a capital of £150,000 in £1 shares—the prisoner was employed in the Transfer Department from March, 1900, to March, 1902—his duty Was to make out certificates and post precautionary letters—Miss Sullivan, of Palmeira Square, Brighton, was a large shareholder—we held two cancelled share certificates on which her transfers were endorsed—those entries are in the prisoner's handwriting and there is an entry of a sale of 500 shares to E. M. Blackburn, Nos. 105060-105559 on February 15th, 1901, which is also entered in the share ledger—I produce a transfer of the same shares dated July 14th, 1901—there appears to have been an erasure—the words and figures are in the prisoner's writing—it would be his duty to see that the transferor held the shares, and stamp the certificate for my signature—in the share ledger of February 28th, 1901, I find

the transfer of those shares entered in the prisoner's writing—the receipt for the transfer of shares of the same numbers dated August 15th, 1901, is in his writing—it would be his duty to send a protective notice to Miss Sullivan—200 of the said shares are transferred to Henry Campbell Blackburn and are transferred to five different people by him—the remaining 300 are transferred to Alexander Hugh Blackburn, of Madron Villa, Brownhill Road, Catford—the said 300 shares are entered in the share ledger in the prisoner's writing—six transfers (Produced) are executed by Alexander Hugh Blackburn dealing with the same 300 shares and are witnessed by E. M. Blackburn, of 106, Brownhill Road, and are in the prisoner's writing—they deal with 150 of the said shares—the remaining 150 are dealt with by five transfers signed by Alexander H. Blackburn, of Madron Villa, and witnessed in each case by Laura Wallace, of the same address.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was in our employ for two years—he gave general satisfaction—assuming that all the transfers were legitimate transactions, it would be his duty to make all the entries he has in fact made—if they were brought to him in the ordinary course of business it would be his duty to make the entries he made—the certificates and share ledger were kept in a safe in my office—the transfer clerk had a key—other clerks would go to it occasionally—every transaction I have proved on the face of it appears to be in order—protective notices would be written by the transfer clerk—there were five or six other clerks employed in the office—the prisoner, while in the office, applied for a position higher than that of transfer clerk—had he obtained it, the new transfer clerk would have had access to all the documents, books and figures—that position would have taken the prisoner away from the transfers and other such documents.

Re-examined. It would not necessarily have been the duty of a new transfer clerk to investigate previous transactions—the transfer clerk would have access to the safe—while I was in the office the safe was not kept locked.

MAUD ANN ROBERT . In 1901 I was unmarried—my maiden name was Sullivan and I was living at 8, Palmeira Square, Brighton—in 1901 I possessed several thousand shares of the British Tea Table Company and was in the habit of selling shares—in February, 1901, I sold 500 shares to Ernest M. Blackburn and executed a transfer (Produced)—the date has been altered—there was no second transaction by which I sold those shares over again in July, 1901—in August, 1902, I discovered I had not been paid all the dividend I was entitled to and 1,000 shares were restored to me by the company together with the arrears of dividend.

Cross-examined. I burnt the protective notices which I received.

ERNEST MURRAY BLACKBURN . In 1901 I was living at 79, The Drive, Hove—Exhibit 4 bears my signature—on February 14th, 1901, I bought 500 shares in the company—when I signed this document it bore the date of February—I received a certificate for 500 shares, Nos. 105060-105559—I was still possessed of those shares up to a week or two ago—I never received the second certificate (Produced) for the same shares—I had no second transaction with Miss Sullivan—I never sold any to H. Campbell

Blackburn—the signature on the transfer produced is not mine, though it is very like my writing—I do not know Alice Woods, of 36, Canonbury Park—there is no member of my family named Henry Campbell Blackburn—I never sold 300 shares to Alexander Hugh Blackbury—the signature on this transfer (Produced) is like mine, but it it not mine—I never lived at 106, Brownhill Road, Catford—I do not know any of the persons mentioned in that document and have had nothing to do with any such transaction—the brokers mentioned do not do my business.

Cross-examined. I cannot say if I received protective notices—as I was not selling my shares I should have noticed it if I had.

JULIUS ARTHUR BRUIN . I am clerk to Messrs. Christie, Bruin & Gribble, 6a, Austin Friars, E. C., stockbrokers—my firm acts for Ernest Murray Blackburn—in February, 1901, we purchased for him 500 shares—Exhibit 4 is the transfer—I put in the original date—it has been altered and there is an erasure—we did not purchase the same 500 or any shares for Mr. Blackburn on July 14th, 1901—this receipt (Produced) was not given by my firm.

Cross-examined. I identify Exhibit 4 as being the transfer of February 14th, 1901, by my handwriting on it and our office stamp—I am certain we only had one transfer—I have dealt with a great many such transfers since 1901.

Re-examined. I made a statement in reference to this matter in November, 1902—the only time my firm bought 500 shares in the company for Mr. Blackburn was in February, 1901.

ANNIE ROBERTS . My address is 36, Canonbury Park South—about four years ago a man named Henry Campbell Blackburn lived at my house for about a fortnight—I saw him about three or four times—he is very much like the prisoner—Inspector Arrow showed me this photograph (Produced) and I picked out the tall man shown there as my lodger—I could identify the photograph better than I can the prisoner; he ha altered—I picked him out from a row of men at the Police Court—I would not swear to him, but I believe he was my lodger—he has altered since—he looks older—there was no servant in my employ named Alice Woods.

Cross-examined. I picked the prisoner out together with another gentleman—it is four years ago since I saw Mr. Blackburn—I should not like to swear absolutely to the prisoner—my housekeeper would have seen my lodger more often than I should—she is not here—the prisoner, if he was my lodger, was only with me about two or three weeks—I was away from home part of the time—I did not have many lodgers—it is very rare that a person only stays a week or two.

WILLIAM JONES . I am clerk to Mr. Frederick William Nish, 17, St. Anne Square, Manchester—he is an outside stockbroker and advertises for clients through the London financial papers—I received this letter (Produced), dated September 2nd, 1901, 36, Canonbury Park South, from H. C. Blackburn—I sold the 200 shares referred to in the five transfers produced and sent my firm's cheque marked "Not negotiable" and crossed "To account payee"—Mr. Blackburn called upon me—he was a stout

man of about 5 feet 9 inches—I should not know him again—he asked me to alter the cheque to "Pay cash," which I did—that cheque was afterwards paid through our bank—in October I received a letter from Alexander H. Blackburn—I afterwards sold 150 shares for him by five transfers (Produced)—my firm's cheque for £307 9s., to order of A. H. Blackburn and endorsed by him, relates to those shares—I wrote, "Pay cash" on the cheque—my letters to H. Campbell Blackburn were addressed to 36, Canonbury Park South, and those to Alexander H. Blackburn to Madron Villa, Brownhill Road, Catford.

Cross-examined. These transactions were a long time ago—I have no recollection of the prisoner as the man who came to Manchester—the person who came arrived at 2 to 2.30 and remained about ten minutes—he was not quite so old as the prisoner.

THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . I have been employed in the study of handwriting for the last twenty years—I have compared the documents in this case with admitted specimens of the prisoner's handwriting—looking at Exhibit 4, I say the date was originally February and has been rather clumsily altered to July—in Exhibit 9, the transfer of 300 shares to H. Campbell Blackburn, the signature of E. M. Blackwell is as near as possible a facsimile of that on Exhibit 4—it is an excellent imitation—to the best of my belief it is in the prisoner's writing—Exhibits 11 to 15, transfers from H. C. Blackburn, are all in the prisoner's writing—the signature of the witness is to the best of my belief the same handwriting—the signature of the witness "A. M. Tapp" resembles the prisoner's writing—the letters (Produced) from H. Campbell Blackburn to Nish & Co. are to the best of my belief in the prisoner's writing—the letters from Alexander Hugh Blackburn to Nish & Co. are in the same writing as the letter to Waterman—the signature A. H. Blackburn endorsed on the cheque for £307 9s. (Produced) I believe to be in the prisoner's writing.

Cross-examined. I do not profess to be infallible—my evidence is a question of opinion after careful study.

I. RHEINBERG. I live at 17, Aylwin Square, Canonbury, and have been there thirty-one years—no one named Villiers has lived there during my time.

GERTRUDE WILLIS . I have lived at Madron Villa, 106, Brownhill Road, Catford, about five years—about four years ago a man named Blackburn resided there for five or six weeks—he came in October or November—he received some letters—one was from Manchester—he was a thick set man not like the prisoner in the face—looking at the five transfers produced I say there was no other Blackburn living at my house—I do not know the name E. M. Blackburn—there was no person of the name of Laura Wallace living at my house—I do not know the writing on Exhibit 22a—it is not the writing of any person living at my house.

Cross-examined. I do not recognise the prisoner.

MICHAEL DONOVAN . I am a tailor now in business at 40, High Holborn and have been there seven years—I was formerly with Nicol & Co., at 306, High Holborn—a man named Horace Cook was in the same employment for about seven years up to seven years ago—I recognise the prisoner as

his brother—I saw him frequently, as he used to come to see his brother Horace in the shop—I became acquainted with Horace's writing—Exhibits 33, 36, 38 and 42 and the transfer Exhibit 16 are similar to Horace Cook's writing.

Cross-examined. It is three or four years since I saw Horace Cook's writing—I looked at it when Inspector Arrow called on me.

ALBERT YEO (Detective-Sergeant). I have been to Bromley and tried to find Acacia Lodge—I have not found any such address nor any person named Arthur M. Tapp.

ALFFED JAMES . I am secretary to the Railway Servants' Association, 21, Finsbury Pavement—in September, 1903, I was advertising for a clerk and received this letter signed Henry Atkinson—a man called next morning who said he was the writer of the letter—he was the prisoner—I engaged him as clerk in the name of Henry Atkinson—I afterwards became thoroughly acquainted with his writing—this letter is his writing—in August, 1904, another man entered our service who gave the name of "H. Waterman"—he was introduced by the prisoner, but it was known in the office that we required another clerk—the prisoner said he was his cousin—this is his letter of application—I became acquainted with his writing and identify this letter as his—the prisoner and Waterman both continued in my employment until October 13th last—on that day they went out together as usual to lunch—Waterman came back alone with a message from the prisoner—I never saw him again until his arrest.

Cross-examined. The prisoner, with the exception of one break, was in my employment from September, 1903, to October, 1905—the break I have mentioned was from June 24th, 1905, to August 28th—he had an opportunity of other employment by which he could earn more money, and as we were slack he went—during the whole time the prisoner was there I was thoroughly satisfied with him—since he left I have discovered nothing wrong—in the course of his duties he would occasionally go out—he never showed the slightest reluctance in carrying out my orders—looking at these letters, there seems to be a slight resemblance to the prisoner's writing, but taking the general appearance, I should not recognise the writing as his.

Re-examined. My experience of writing is gained in the ordinary course of business—I have no experience of judging disguised handwritings.

CHARLES ARROW (Chief Inspector, New Scotland Yard). I received a warrant for the arrest of the prisoner and his brother Horace in November, 1902—for the first six months after that I kept a special watch for the prisoner and to a certain extent since—I did not see him till the day of his arrest, October 13th, when I saw him in Finsbury Pavement—I said to him, "Mr. Atkinson, I think?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I want a word with you"—I showed him his photograph and said, "I believe your name is also Thompson"—he said, "Yes, sir"—I said, "I am a police officer and hold a warrant for your arrest for forgery"—I read it—he said, "Very well, sir, I suppose I must go with you"—then he said, "Do you mind reading it again?"—I did so and he said, "What was

the date of the forgery?"—I said, "Between July and November, 1901"—he said, "What was the date of the warrant?"—I said, "November, 1902"—he said, "Twelve months afterwards, and it is now 1905. I shall have to think when I left the B. T. T. C."—I omit the next observation he made—he next said, "'Who are the witnesses?"—I said, "The information upon which the warrant was granted was laid by the then secretary and myself"—he said, "I suppose I shall hear more about it when I get before the Magistrate"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—he said nothing—I did not meet him accidentally; I had information—he had someone with him, but nobody I knew—I did not know Horace.

JOHN WISE (Re-examined). I produce the ledger containing Miss Sullivan's share account—I find entered there the genuine sale of the 500 shares 105060-105559 from Miss Sullivan to Mr. Ernest Murray Blackburn, on February 28th, 1901—I find a similar entry in another ledger—both are in the prisoner's writing.

By MR. ELLIOTT. I had a key of the safe, and Mr. Pearce, our managing director, had one—it is a large safe with double doors—the used transfers were kept in box files—the general clerks would not have access to the safe, because no one is allowed to go there without permission—I cannot remember whether anyone had permission, as this affair happened a long time ago—if any of the clerks wanted anything out of the safe I would get it for them myself—the prisoner was allowed access to the safe.

By MR. LEYCESTER. I should not like to swear that the clerks never went to the safe.

GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoner was suspected of a similar offence while employed as transfer clerk by the Dunlop Pneumatic Company. Four years' penal servitude.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-109
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

109. PETER CASPER (31) , Feloniously wounding Cypryan Balcewiez, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. WIPPELL Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

CYPRYAN BLACEWIEZ (Interpreted). I live at 19, Fawley Road, Tottenham, and am a cabinet maker—on Saturday, November 25th, about 10 p.m., I was going home when I saw the prisoner standing in the street—he came up to me and said, "Come and have a fight"—I said, "Casper, go home, because you are too drunk to-day"—he tried to strike me, but fell down—he got up and struck me on the head—a man named Tomac then ran out of his house with a chair—I ran away—I did not see what the prisoner struck me with.

Cross-examined. I was passing the prisoner's house—he stood outside his door—I did not see him smoking a pipe—I did not go up to him and ask him to stand me a drink—I have known him a long time—I have been in Tottenham two years—I was not absolutely drunk—I did not hit the prisoner—he hit me in the face—we did not struggle with one another.

Re-examined. The prisoner was drunk—I could not see how the chair got broken.

ANTONY SHIDARATEKAS (Interpreted). I live at 19, Fawley Road, Tottenham, and am a cabinet maker—on Saturday, November 25th, about 10 p.m., I was in my road with Joseph Sadofski—I saw the prosecutor—the prisoner came out of his house and went up to the prosecutor and hit him—they struggled and fell—then Tomac came along with a chair—the prosecutor was bleeding from the forehead—I did not see how he was injured.

Cross-examined. The prisoner and the prosecutor struggled and fell twice—the prosecutor was not drunk, but the prisoner was.

The Jury said they thought it was nothing more than a drunken row.

NOT GUILTY . (See next case).

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-110
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

110. JOHN DOROBMOWIS (32) , Feloniously wounding and causing grievous bodily harm to Cypryan Balcewiez with intent to do grievous bodily harm to him.

MR. WIPPELL. Prosecuted.

CYPRYAN BALCEWIEZ (Interpreted). I recollect the evening of November 25th—after I and Casper had finished, I saw Tomac come out of Casper's house with a chair—I saw no one else come with him—Tomac ran after me with the chair, and the prisoner also with a bar of iron—this is the bar—the prisoner tried to strike me with it, but missed me—afterwards somebody struck me with it—the prisoner and Tomac both hit me [It was stated that Tomac had disappeared]—the prisoner struck me on the arm—I have some wounds on my head and leg—Casper was the first to strike me.

ANTONY SHIDARATEKAS (Interpreted). On November 26th I saw the prisoner run after the prosecutor—I am not certain what he struck the prosecutor with, but he did strike him—I was about thirty feet away.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I saw you that day at a public-house.

By the COURT. The prisoner had a bar of iron, but I did not see him strike with it.

ARTHUR STENTON RATHBONE WAINWRIGHT , M. R. C. P. Lond. I practise at High Road, Tottenham—on the night of November 25th I was called to the police station there—I saw the prosecutor—he had a scratch over the right temporal bone and a slight wound just above it, another one an inch long above that, a wound one and three quarter inches long on the top of the scalp, and one at the back of the head—his arm bone was broken in the middle into little pieces, a wound over the seat of the fracture, and a wound on the left knee cap, a large bruise and two large weals.

HENRY DAVIS (Police-Sergeant). On November 25th, about 10.45, I went to the prisoner's house and saw him—I told him what he would be charged with—it was interpreted to him—he said, "I did not strike him at all"—he was taken to the station and charged—he made no reply.

The prisoner (Interpreted). "I cannot speak English and could not

explain myself very plainly. I could not understand what I was charged with."

Evidence for the Defence.

MONICA VALUNIENE (By the COURT.) I am married—my husband is a labourer—I have known the prisoner for six months—he is no friend of mine—I did not see the commencement of the scuffle in question, but I saw when Joseph Sadofski took up this bar of iron—he did not strike anyone with it, but gave it to the prosecutor—I saw the prosecutor strike Tomac with it and Tomac struck him with a chair—I did not see the prisoner strike anybody.

Cross-examined. I was looking through a window of No. 17 in the same street—Tomac first struck him with the chair and after with the iron bar.

By the COURT. I know Casper—I did not see him strike the prosecutor—the only man that struck him was Tomac.

The prisoner, in his defence (interpreted) on oath, stated that he was told there was a fight going on and went to see; that he saw Tomac strike the prosecutor with a chair, and that he (the prisoner) then went home. In cross-examination he stated that he thought the prosecutor had been bribed to bring this prosecution against him.


11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-111
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

111. WILLIAM ROBERT DICKS, Unlawfully and corruptly attempting to endeavour to bribe Walter Fullick and George Rose, police constables, to neglect and omit to do their duty as such police constables and do abstain from reporting to their superior officer with reference to one John Arnold.



WALTER FULLICLK (557 Y.) On October 20th last I was on special duty in plain clothes in Wells Terrace, Holloway, to keep observation on bookmakers—I there saw a man named John Arnold at 1.30 to 1.35—I saw him receive two slips of paper and money from two men, one from each man—there was an interval of about two minutes between them—I went on watching—about twenty minutes after, I spoke to him—there was another officer, Rose, with me—he was not with me at the time I saw the slips taken, but he was close by—at 3.15 the prisoner came up to Rose and me in the Seven Sisters Road and said, "I have been told you are after Johnny; you don't want to do him any harm"—he meant by "Johnny," John Arnold—he said, "I will give you half a sovereign if you will look over it this time. This is all the money I have got on me now; you can either come into the saloon bar of the Blackstock or into the urinal, so that nobody may see us, or if you like to meet me anywhere else I will give you one or two pounds if you will look over it"—I asked him if he was aware of the penalty of trying to bribe a police officer—he said, "I am quite aware of that"—we walked away and left him—I made a note of the conversation—I went back to the police station afterwards and made a statement to the inspector—in consequence of the

information I had given the prisoner was charged—I have known him for two and a-half years as a well-known bookmaker—I have not personally seen him with Arnold—-Arnold is known about the neighbourhood as "Johnny."

Cross-examined. I have been a constable about six years—I commenced this special duty in May or June last—from May to October my chief occupation practically has been watching street betting—Rose has also been on this duty about the same time as myself—I have had many prosecutions and convictions and one acquittal—Rose and I are on good terms both in the force and out of it—I saw Johnny Arnold take money—I was then only about ten yards away—I said to Arnold, "You will be reported for frequenting and using Wells Terrace for the purpose of betting"—I was then aware that to constitute the offence of "frequenting" there must be some repetition of the act—there is another law of which I am aware, that if a person is betting in the streets under such circumstances as to create an obstruction, whether seen at it before or not, he can be arrested then and there—I did not tell Arnold that I should arrest him then and there for creating an obstruction; I told him he would be reported—Arnold did not say to me, "I have not got the money to pay the fine"—£5 is a very common fine for this offence—he did not say, "I have not got £5 upon me"—he did not ask me to allow him to go away and get it—if he had said so I should not have let him—it would have been a serious breach of my duty—when I have taken men into custody I have given them the privilege of informing some friends of theirs on the way to the station in order to provide themselves with sufficient money to pay the fine, if necessary; otherwise they would be locked up—I have never allowed them out of my custody for that purpose—when they have informed their friends, it is generally somebody who is met on the way by chance—I have never been asked by a betting man to let him go away—Arnold did not ask me to let him go away to get enough money for the fine and did not tell me he would meet me again at 2.30—I did not then say to him, "Well, there must be no tricks"—I deny that I had an appointment with Arnold at or outside the Clarence public-house at 2.30—at 2.30 I was in the neighbourhood of the Clarence—I cannot say that I was just outside—I was not there looking for Arnold—I did not there see a man named Tuckwell—I saw him about there about 3.30—I passed the time of day with him, I believe—both Rose and myself were in the neighbourhood of the Clarence—we were not there to meet Arnold—I did not beckon Tuckwell over and ask him where Arnold was—I did not ask him where Arnold lived—I did not then know where he lived, but I do now—if he swears I was looking for Arnold, that is untrue—I had never spoken to the prisoner before he spoke to me; he said, "I hear you are after Johnny Arnold," and then after a little hesitation he offered the half-sovereign—I did not tell him that I was after Arnold—I told him nothing—I believe he asked me to have a drink—the Blackstock public-house was close by—I did not say to Rose, in answer to his invitation, "Shall we risk it?" and I did not hear Rose say it, but he may have done—we did not enter the public-house—the prisoner did not then say,

"Why do you talk about risking it? You are not on duty"—the prisoner did not then walk down the road with us, but he followed behind—I did not say to him, "There are two people coming up here; I do not want them to see you with us," and ask him to fall behind—I saw him with two other bookmaker—we left him—when he offered the half-sovereign I told him it was contrary to law—I did not take it; I thought better of it—it would not have done us any harm to have taken the half-sovereign to show to the inspector, saying, "Here is the half-sovereign; he gave us that"—I refused it—I swear this is the first time I have been offered a bribe—Arnold did not offer me a bribe—the prisoner, by offering us the money, was committing a misdemeanour and we could have arrested him on the spot—I did not do so, because I knew him well and I thought a summons would be preferable—I made a note of what the prisoner said, about twenty minutes afterwards, in the Seven Sisters Road—Rose left me just before I commenced the note—Rose and I did not talk it over—I did not say to Rose, "I had better make a note"—I did not begin to write it before he left me—I said at the Police Court, "I think the other constable made a note at the same time"—I thought perhaps he was making a note, but I did not see him do so—I went back to the police station about 4 o'clock with Rose; that is, he joined me again—I did not say anything to Rose about what had occurred before we entered the police station.

Re-examined. To have taken the 10s. would have been a serious matter to us and we never thought of doing so—when I said in cross-examination I thought better of it, I meant I thought more of myself than to take it—I had not been inclined to take it—I am doubtful whether the prisoner asked us to have a drink or not, but I am not doubtful about not saying, "Shall we risk it?"—I did not say it—I did not arrest the prisoner, because I did not think he was likely to abscond.

GEORGE ROSE (353 Y.) On October 20th I was with the last witness on special duty and went to Wells Terrace—I there saw Arnold take betting slips, but nothing with them—he took two slips during the period from 1.40 p.m. to 1.45 p.m.—I was not then with Fullick; I was keeping observation separately—I rejoined Fullick afterwards—we then went up to Arnold—we were both in plain clothes—about 3.15 p.m. the prisoner came and spoke to us—he said, "I hear you have been after Johnny; will you take half a sovereign to square it? It is all I have got; you can have it in the saloon bar of the Blackstock or in the urinal"—we refused the money—he then said, "If that is not enough I will meet you where you like and I will give you £1 or £2 if you will only let the matter drop"—I asked him if he knew the consequences of attempting to bribe police officers—he said, "I am quite aware of that"—we then walked away—I knew Arnold as a betting man, also the prisoner as a betting man—when he said "Johnny," I knew whom he meant—I have heard that Arnold and the prisoner are acquainted, but I have not seen them together—after making our observations, we each make a note and then we go on to another bookmaker, still keeping observation—our superiors do not hear of what happens until our observations are finished, but sometimes day by

day we report and they then decide whether the bookmakers shall be prosecuted or not—the formal report is made afterwards.

Cross-examined. I have been five and a half years in the force—I have been on this special duty of watching bookmakers since May, on and often—I have not been constantly at it—as I rule I have been with Fullick—I know the bookmakers and they know me pretty well by sight—I cannot say the exact number of prosecutions we have had, but probably six or eight—I know there has been £90 worth of convictions—I keep account but not for any particular reason—it is no feather in my cap to get a conviction and it would not get me any advancement in the force—a man only gets on in the force by his qualifications and education—I have never been offered a bribe before—I have heard of people being rash enough to offer bribes to police constables, also bookmakers doing so—I knew it was a criminal offence and more serious than betting in the street—I had heard that the prisoner had been prosecuted before the day in question for street betting, but had not heard that he had had two acquittals—I heard that he had been convicted—I told Arnold that he would be reported for frequenting—Fullick was near me then—I had no intention of arresting Arnold then and therefore creating an obstruction—he did not then ask me to let him go and get the amount of the fine—Fullick and I did not agree to give him that chance on condition of his meeting us at 2.30 at the Clarence—that would be a serious breach of our duty—I have never heard of that being done—if he had been taken into custody then and there he would have appeared before the Magistrate the same afternoon and in all probability would have been fined £5—in all probability Arnold had not £5 then with him—in all probability if he had not been able to pay his fine, he would have been sent to prison—he did not ask for the indulgence of getting it—prisoners are allowed to inform their friends of their arrest, but not before they are taken to the station—once before when I took a prisoner to the station I allowed him to interview a friend—at 2.30 on the day in question I was in the neighbourhood of the Clarence—I do not think I there saw a man named Tuckwell—I did not speak to him and ask him if he had seen Arnold or ask him where Arnold lived—I knew where to find Arnold—at 3.15 the prisoner met us—I think it was about 4 o'clock when Fullick and I went back to the station—we had an opportunity of talking over the matter, but did not do so—I made my note of the conversation at the station—Fullick could have shown me his note, but I do not suppose he would have done; I should not have shown him mine—it is against the regulations to do so—I do not myself bet—I have never done so—I have a great knowledge of betting men—I never backed a horse named "Chaucer" with a betting man in the street—I do not regard betting men as a rule as a little difficult to deal with—the police do not like to be even with them if they can—bookmakers are pretty smart, I suppose—they are mixed up with a clique as a rule—I said before the Magistrate that Fullick did not make any note in the street—I meant I did not see him.

Re-examined. When I gave my evidence at the Police Court I was under the impression that Fullick and I had not made notes till we got

back to the station—I had no special reason for remembering that—there would be no object in saying that Fullick had not made a note in the street if he had—that would not help me in the prosecution—I did not know where Fullick's note was made.

[MR. SYMMONS proposed to call Sergeant How, to whom the report was made, but MR. CAMPBELL objected, as no notice had been given. MR. CAMPBELL submitted that in point of law there was no evidence to go to the Jury that Arnold had committed any offence for which it was the duty of the police officers to report; and that the only offence alleged was under bye-laws and not an offence under statute or at common law and that those bye-laws had not been proved. He further submitted that there was no evidence that the prisoner either knew that Arnold had committed or was reasonably suspected of having committed an offence under bye-laws and that there was no evidence that the prisoner saw Arnold between 1.30 and 3.15. The COURT considered that there was a case to go to the Jury.]

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, stated that his real name was William Robertson Dick, but that he sometimes put it short; that he was until recently a bookmaker; that about 3 o'clock on the day in question he saw the two constables standing outside the Blackstock Tavern; that Rose said to him, "Hullo, where are you off to?"; that he (the prisoner) said, "Looking for Johnny; have you seen him?"; that Rose replied, "No"; that he (the prisoner) was in fact looking for Arnold; that he (the prisoner) said to the constables, "Shall we come and have a drink?"; that Fullick said to Row, "Shall we chance it?"; that Rose said, "I don't think we had better"; that he (the prisoner) said, "What do you mean? Chance it; you are not on duty, are you?"; that Rose said, "Yes, we are"; that he (the prisoner) then said, "I am sorry I spoke"; that Rose then said, "Well, we are going along this way; are you coming along?" meaning towards the Clarence; that he (the prisoner) walked in between the two constables and chatted with them until they reached the Railway Arch at Finsbury Park, when Rose said, "You had better hang back; there are two persons coming along on the other side of the road and we do not wish them to see us with you"; that there were two bookmakers coming in the opposite direction; that he (the prisoner) never offered to bribe the two officers, and that he did not know that they had been watching Arnold or had threatened to report him for a summons.


NEW COURT.—Thursday and Friday, December 14th and 15th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-112
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

112. WILLIAM CHARLES KIPLING, Being manager of the Spital-fields Silk Co., Ltd., unlawfully received a cheque for £21 13s. with intent to defraud, and omitting to make or cause to be made a true entry thereof in the books of the said company.

MR. C. F. GILL, K. C., and MR. PATRICK HASTINGS Prosecuted; MR. WATTS Defended.

SIDNEY ARTHUR CHAPPLE COKE . I am a member of the firm of Coke & Sons, umbrella manufacturers, of 309, Oxford Street—I have bought

silk from the Spitalfields Silk Co.—I bought some in January last for £21 13s., for which I paid the prisoner personally by cheque—that was in the ordinary course of business—he called in to settle it up and I paid him—I had received the statement before—this is the cheque—it is an open cheque, because he asked for it to be open—it is payable to the Spitalfields Silk Co. and is endorsed "The Spitalfields Silk Co., Wm. Kipling, Manager," and it appears to have been cashed across the counter on the same day.

Cross-examined. I have been dealing with the prisoner for about eighteen years.

Re-examined. I was dealing with the firm before the bankruptcy.

JOHN COOK WARY . I carry on business at Tunbridge Wells as an umbrella manufacturer—I have done business with the Spitalfields Silk Co., and in May last there was £5 9s. 11d. due from me to them—on May 11th I received this letter from the offices of the company in Chancery Lane signed "Wm. Kipling, A. W. C." (Stating that they were rather short of money and would be glad if the witness would send the money for the enclosed account)—I sent this cheque for £5 9s. 11d.; it is on my bank, which is the Tunbridge Wells Branch of Lloyd's Bank—my cheques are always crossed and I generally mark them "Not negotiable," as this one is—I sent it to the office in Chancery Lane by post and it came back endorsed as it is now, "Spitalfields Silk Co., Ltd., A. W. Carter, Secretary," and also the name of "M. Harmer & Co."—I know who Mr. Harmer is.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about thirty years and have dealt with him for about twenty-five years in the old firm of Kipling Bros.—I did not do business with his father's firm, but ever since he has been in business I have done business with him—I have never known anything against him.

ELLEN WRAY , I am the wife of the last witness and live at Vale Road, Tunbridge Wells—some time after this cheque for £5 9s. 11d. had been sent to the company I remember the prisoner calling at our place of business at Tunbridge Wells with it—he asked me if my husband would cash it and I said he was too ill for me to approach him on business subjects—he had been ill for three weeks—while he was speaking to me Mr. Harmer was in the shop and I introduced him to the prisoner and asked him if he would cash the cheque as my husband was ill—Mr. Harmer said, "Certainly if it is Mr. Wray's cheque, I will," and I saw him pass the money to the prisoner—as far as I remember, the prisoner's reason for wanting the cheque cashed was that he was short of money while he was in the town on business—I do not remember what day of the month that was—I cannot say how many days after the date of the cheque.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner through my husband doing business with him for two or three years—I am in business also—we have not a dwelling house to this shop, so we have two shops and I live at the other one which has a house—I know the prisoner's brother better than I know the prisoner—I know that my husband has dealt with the firm for many years.

MORRIS MILLENGER . I am an umbrella manufacturer at New Broad Street and have been supplied with goods by the Spitalfields Silk Co.—last March I was indebted to them for goods supplied and accepted in respect of my indebtedness two bills of exchange, ore for £25 and the other for £26 8s. 1d.—the company sent down the bills and I returned them, accepting them—I think I saw the secretary, Mr. Carter, in the first instance—these are the bills; they are accepted, payable at the London & County Bank, Hammersmith—with respect to the £25 bill, I remember the prisoner calling on August 12th, which was nearly a week before it was due, and asking me if I would take it up for his wife as she had no banking account—he had the bill in his possession and produced it, and having no reason to doubt Mrs. Kipling's title to the bill, I consented—I thought she was properly in possession of it and I accordingly gave a cheque which was honoured by my bank—the other bill was due on September 18th, being a six months' bill; it was presented to my bank in the usual way and has got an endorsement on it," The Spitalfields Silk Co., A. W. Carter, Secretary," and also "T. Neilson" and "Lea & Nash"—the other bill has on the back of it, "The Spital-fields Silk Co., A. W. Carter, Secretary," and then the name of "Neilson" and then "E. M. Kipling."

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about two years and have done a great deal of business with him—I have always found him perfectly honest and straightforward—about five days after he called in reference to cashing the first bill of £25 I saw him again and told him I had received a letter from the company informing me that the bills I had given settling my account were not in their possession, would I send them a cheque for the amount of my account, and also would I stop the bills if they should be presented at my bank, and that they would indemnify me against all proceedings—he said, "Take no notice of it I am taking proceedings against the company, as they have treated me most shamefully"—I told him I had put the matter into the hands of my solicitor and I had a copy of their answer—the bank paid the second bill and I disregarded the notice from the company—the last endorsement on this bill is Mrs. Kipling's—the prisoner told me that Mrs. Kipling had an interest in the business or in the company.

Re-examined. I was a creditor in the prisoner's first bankruptcy, but not in his second, as far as I remember—I was not present when he was examined in his bankruptcy.

AGNES MASON . I am single and carry on business at Southampton as an umbrella manufacturer—I had goods from the Spitalfields Silk Co., and in May last I was indebted to them in the sum of £14 10s.—I remember receiving a letter from them, and in consequence sent this cheque for £14 10s. on May 12th—it is endorsed, "Spitalfields Silk Co., A. W. Carter"—I got their receipt for the cheque.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner for about ten years—I have not done much business with him, but my mother did before me—she is dead—I have always found my dealings with him perfectly satisfactory and straightforward.

Re-examined. In the dealings I had with him the money passed from me to him.

---- HAMMOND. I carry on business at Norman Road, St. Leonards, as an umbrella manufacturer, and bought silk from the Spitalfields Silk Co.—on May 10th I was indebted to them for £13 3s. 4d., and received this letter (Stating that they found themselves rather short of money this week and that they would be glad to haw a cheque, when they would allow him an extra 1 1/4 per cent., signed C. Kipling)—I sent the cheque payable to the company—it is endorsed by them and I got a receipt on account of the company—the cheque has the stamp of the National Provincial Bank, Piccadilly Branch.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about sixteen years and have done business with him, when the firm was Kipling & Denner—that was the firm which went bankrupt—I have always found the prisoner perfectly straightforward and honest—my cheque for £13 3s. 4d., which I sent at his request, is endorsed by Carter, the secretary.

RUSSELL SMITH . I am an accountant at the National Provincial Bank, Piccadilly, and produce a copy of the account of Mrs. Annie Neilson—the address is Shaftesbury Avenue—this copy is taken from the books of the bank—this cheque for £13 3s. 4d., dated May 13th, was paid into her account on May 16th—this cheque for £14 10s. was paid in on the same day—the account was opened as a private one—I found debits to that account in the names of Kipling and Carter—it was rather an active account, and latterly cheques for the husband's business were passed through—at the end of June it was practically closed and became over-drawn by the debit of our charges, and since then there has been no operation—on April 28th there was a credit balance of £2 15s. 7d.—the credit goes as high as £15—there is a credit balance of £2 0s. 2d. on June 21st—our charges were £3 13s. 6d.

FRANCIS WILLIAM BOUSTRED . I am a clerk in the Registrar's Office of Joint Stock Companies and produce the file of the Spitalfields Silk Co., Ltd.—it was registered on February 3rd, 1904, and was to carry on the business of silk weavers and merchants, the registered office being 88 and 90, Chancery Lane—there is a report on the file on June 9th, 1904, of A. W. Carter, who is described as secretary, and James Green Browne as director—the nominal capital of the company is £2,000 in £1 shares—there were twenty-eight ordinary shares and there is a record on the file of the creation of debentures on June 8th, 1904.

Cross-examined. At the date of the registration there were only seven shares held by seven signatories—on May 10th, 1905, there were twenty-eight £1 shares allotted to the signatories—the return does not show the date when each particular share is issued—the debentures were created by a resolution on June 8th, 1904, when the twenty-one new shares were issued.

SIDNEY BARNES BRYANT . I am an incorporated accountant and carry on business at 10, Philpot Lane, City—I was appointed Receiver on behalf of the debenture holders of this company on May 15th last—I went to the office of the company and saw Carter, the secretary, and showed him

a letter of appointment and I took possession of what was in the office—he handed me over the Bought Ledger, the Sold Ledger, the Day Book and two letter books—those were not all the books, but they were all that he had—I found no minute book or share register or transfer book—on that day I wrote to the prisoner and sent the letter by my clerk, William Ling, on the next day, the 16th—I informed him that I had been appointed receiver and that I had heard certain property of the company was in his possession or power, and would be glad if he would make an early appointment to hand the same over to me—I got no answer—I made an examination of the books and as the result I sent out statements to all persons who appeared to be owing money to the company and I received certain communications, and in consequence I proceeded to make further inquiries—looking at this Sold Day Book under the date of January 16th, 1905, I find a record of what appears to be a sale to A. Coke & Sons of silk amounting to £22 15s. 8d.—the entry is marked "Memo" and initialled by the prisoner—it was the practice of the company to occasionally send out goods on approval and to send goods to be finished, and then they were entered in this book and marked "Memo," showing that they were not to be charged, the effect of that entry being that they were excluded from the Sold Ledger—after my appointment, in going through this book I thought that item looked a little irregular and I caused a statement to be sent to A. Coke and Sons, saying that the amount was owing to the company and I received a communication by telephone from them saying that this particular item had been received and paid for—the page is cast, but the item omitted—I afterwards saw the cheque which paid for the goods and which should have been paid into the bank and then entered on the debit side of the cash book and posted to the credit of the customer in the ledger—I examined all the books and it was not in any of them—the bankers of the company were the London Joint Stock, Chancery Lane Branch—there is no record of the receipt of Miss Mason's cheque for £14 10s., and the money was not paid into the account—the cheque for £5 9s. 11d., drawn by Mr. Wray, did not appear to be entered and he seemed to be a debtor to the company—I sent him a statement—those goods had not been marked "Memo" and they had been posted to the debit of the customer, but on the date of my appointment they appeared to be owing—I found that there was account of £13 13s. 7d. and £2 19s. 5d. owing by Messrs. Hammond & Co.—a statement was sent to them and in reply I was informed that the items had been paid—when I was appointed I found that amongst the people indebted to the firm was Mr. Millenger, but I could not find the two bills—I referred to the letter book and saw that there was an entry which appeared to be a copy of a receipt for £51 8s. 1d. which was paid by two bills of exchange, one due on August 18th for £25, and the other due on September 18th for £26 8s. 1d.—I made inquiries—the goods were supplied, and apparently not paid for—taking it generally, none of these cheques or the bills went into the account of the company—amongst the papers I found a notice from a debenture holder, a Mr. Brodie, calling in the payment of his money—there was another debenture holder, but I only found one notice—it is marked by the

secretary, "Received, 15th May"—from the time I took possession in May down to the time the prosecution was started the prisoner never came to see me with regard to the matter nor gave me any information—I found that there were trade creditors to the company, amounting to three or four hundred pounds—I never saw Carter after May 15th—I first acted in connection with the company about the middle of May, 1904, as accountant, at the request of the debenture holders, who were Mr. Brodie and Mr. Browne—Mr. Brodie was a representative of Mr. Brigg—the capital for carrying on the business was found by Mr. Brodie and Mr. Browne, and nobody else; the signatories did not even pay—I was asked by the solicitor to the company if I would act, and I also knew Mr. Brigg personally—Mr. Browne acted as director, and debentures were issued to him and to Mr. Brodie—at the time I was appointed Mr. Browne was the sole director and the prisoner was acting as manager—Mr. Brodie was merely a debenture holder—the business was carried on at the office at Chancery Lane and the prisoner was paid £4 a week—his brother was paid £3 a week for managing the factory at Sudbury—from the time the business was formed until I was appointed receiver it was carried on in that way, the prisoner getting his salary week by week, and it was paid up to May 6th, a week before my appointment—there was a weekly cheque drawn for wages and a record of it in the manager's salaries account—Carter was a young man and was paid £1 18s. 6d. a week—after June, 1904, I visited the premises from time to time, and during the whole of that time the prisoner never questioned the position of Mr. Browne or the debenture holders in any way, or suggested that he himself was more than manager—I visited the premises twelve or fifteen times—I did not give notice of my going—up to the time that I took possession the prisoner never suggested he had any claim against the company—when I first became connected with the company in May, 1904, I was asked on behalf of the debenture holders to see if everything was in order and there were meetings pretty frequently and the minute book was written up by the secretary—when I was appointed I looked through the minutes and found that they did not appear to be quite in order, as the signatories' shares had never been allotted to them according to the minutes—the secretary had been paid his salary before he was appointed and in several ways the minutes were irregular—I accordingly instructed the secretary to re-write the minutes, filling in the conformation of the minutes of the previous meeting and the allotment of the signatories' shares which was made on February 24th—the certificate had been signed on that day, but there was no record of it in the minutes—the record of the tenancy of the company's factory was not quite in order, as it showed that Mr. Browne was the tenant and not the company—I altered that, showing that Mr. Browne was tenant on behalf of the company—the minutes were subsequently re-entered and at the meeting of June 8th, at which I was present, they were, I believe, signed by Mr. Browne—of course there could be no claim on the signatories unless their claim was right—all this was done with the prisoner's and the secretary's knowledge, and they never raised any question about it—with regard to dealing with the signatories, this (Produced) is a letter from the prisoner

to me (Stating that there was £7 for signatory shares, which he proposed to charge to travelling expenses)—I did not agree with him and said if the signatories had paid for their shares the money would be paid into the bank—I answered his letter on June 10th (Stating that the cash received for signatories, shares must be paid into the bank and any travelling expenses must he charged and a docket given)—I was present at the different hearings at the Police Court.

Cross-examined. I have never been appointed a receiver of a company before—I have had about fourteen years' experience in accountants' offices and on my own account—I have been secretary to three or four companies, and have been a director and have altered minutes before, but not in exactly the same way as these—I think I told you at the Police Court that I had altered minutes before—these alterations were simply to put the minutes in order—these (Produced) are the minutes—in the revised minutes there is no entry under date April 14th—there is a minute, dated April 14th, in which Mr. A. Doig having consented to become an auditor to the company, it was resolved that his services should be accepted, but I was given to understand that that minute did not appear when Mr. Browne signed the minutes and that Mr. Browne had never consented to Mr. Doig being appointed auditor to the company—I omitted it from the revised minutes because I was told it was not in order—this minute (Produced) was originally written by the secretary, "Minutes of a meeting of the Spitalfields Silk Co., held February 15th, 1904. The solicitor reported that the company was duly registered on February 3rd, 1904, and the certificate of incorporation was produced. The subscribers to the Memorandum and Articles having appointed Mr. James Green Browne, of Ardley House, near Romford, to be a director of the company, resolved that he be and is hereby a director"—that is signed by Mr. Browne—present at that meeting were Charles Caldwell Moore, Henry Charles Bathurst, Henry William Sutton, George Sutton, and William Austin Niggins—that minute was signed at the next meeting—when a director of a company tells me definitely that he has never agreed to Mr. Doig being appointed an auditor and that his co-debenture holder had objected to Mr. Doig, I submit that it is quite in order for me to strike out the appointment—my name was not entered there as auditor, as I was not appointed until June 8th—my appointment originally appeared as April 14th, but in the revised minutes as June 8th—the minute of April 14th was entirely omitted in the revised minutes, and I submit that no business was transacted on that date, although I believe a meeting was held—the prisoner continued to act as manager until May 6th—it was on account of the debenture holders objecting to Mr. Doig's appointment that I came into the matter; they would not have Mr. Doig at all—it was perfectly open to have rescinded this minute and would have been perfectly in order and would perhaps have been, under the circumstances, the proper course to adopt [MR. WATTS submitted that he was entitled to cross-examine with regard to the prisoner having acted as manager after the formation of the company, but the RECORDER ruled that the prisoner was prevented from denying the authority of Mr. Browne and that the matter should not be gone

into at that stage]—the figures on page 32 of the Sold Day Book were cast, but the items marked "Memo" were not included in the addition—I cannot say whose are the figures at the bottom of the page—they are not the prisoner's; I cannot say if they are my clerk's—I was appointed receiver on May 15th, 1905—the balance in the bank was £72 11s. 11d.—in the pass book on January 1st, 1905, the balance is £83 0s. 8d.—I was appointed receiver because the interest on the debentures had not been paid—it was due on January 1st, 1905—it was 5 or 6 per cent, on £700, or, roughly, £17 10s.—at that time there was £83 in the bank, but there were creditors of the company for, roughly, over £400, and of course wages were required each week—the first entry in the pass book for wages is on January 6th, £14 5s. 6d., and on January 4th there was £54 paid for silk—unless the company had silk all the weavers were standing idle—I do not know if the stock in possession of the company was worth £700; that figure has not been audited—when I was appointed receiver the balance of the company was £72 and the interest on the debentures had not been paid then; I have no idea why—I had nothing to do with the accounts of the company prior to December 31st, 1904—I was endeavouring to obtain replies to various requisitions that I had made so as to be in a position to certify to the accounts on December 31st—for nearly five months I was endeavouring to get explanations that would enable me to pass the balance sheet, and when I was appointed receiver I found my requisitions in the company's table with certain remarks written by the prisoner—I do not agree that it is an auditor's duty to see that the debentures are paid—the director's fees were partly paid during this time—roughly about £115 has been paid in directors' fees since the formation of the company—it was all paid to Mr. Browne; that is from March 17th, 1904, to April 14th, 1905—I think he was paid £100 a year—he was also a debenture holder—there was not sufficient money in the hands of the company to pay his director's fees in full—presumably there was no money to pay Mr. Browne as a debenture holder—it did not cross my mind that it was a curious thing that Mr. Browne should pay himself his fees, but not the interest on the debentures because I was dealing with accounts up to December 31st—it has not occurred to me that any of the goods sent out, against which the word "Memo" was put, belonged to Mrs. Kipling—these particular pieces of silk, Nos. 159 and 160, were apparently manufactured by the company at Sudbury—a lot of silk was not manufactured by the company; it was obtained from Mr. Doig—there are four invoices in the name of Doig, amounting in all to £296——it is a Mr. Doig whose name appears in the minutes, whether he was appointed auditor or not—he was a silk merchant, and for that reason I put in my requisitions a request for detailed invoices—I never received them and that is one of the things I was waiting five months for—I do not know if Mr. Doig was a friend of Mrs. Kipling's—I never heard that the silk which came from Mr. Doig belonged to Mrs. Kipling—I never Heard anything about it, but I thought it was a funny transaction and I asked for details—I do not know why I did not see any more of the prisoner or Carter after May 15th, but it did not strike me as peculiar after

I had made an investigation into the accounts—between May 15th and 27th I found an entry in the letter book relating to the bills, and on May 27th I sent out statements to all persons who appeared to be debtors of the company, and I think it was in June that I made inquiries respecting Coke—I do not know how it is that the prisoner has not been prosecuted before—I think it was Mr. Browne who directed that the prisoner should be prosecuted—I do not know of my own knowledge who swore the information, but I have been told that Mr. Jenner did; he is the clerk to the solicitor to the company and also secretary to the company—I do not know if the information was sworn because Mr. Brigg, when he found out that the prisoner said he was being squeezed out of the company, said he would have no more dealings with it—I have never heard of that; I heard that Mr. Brigg wanted his money in July and he was paid, I think, £360 in July for his £400 debenture—I borrowed that money as receiver through Mr. Browne—there was no new debenture money; it is open for a receiver to borrow money—I believe Mr. Brigg's debentures were returned to the solicitor—Mr. Brigg received the £360 in full satisfaction—Mr. Browne is not the only person who has any interests in the company; there are twenty-one shareholders whom I do not think you can leave out, but with that exception Mr. Browne is the only person who has any interest in the company—up to the date I was appointed receiver there were twenty-eight shareholders, I believe—I have received no money on account of shares while I have been receiver—there was £21 paid into the bank just before my appointment—it was paid in on May 15th, but I was not appointed until the afternoon of that day—Mr. Everett, in whose name these twenty-one shares which were paid for were made out, is the solicitor to the company—Mr. Frank Brodie had five—I do not know who he is, but I presume he is a brother of the debenture holder—I do not know who Mr. W. Newall is, who had five—I do not know at what date the meeting as held at which these shares were issued, but I expect there will be a minute of it—the minute book which has been produced was in the possession of either the secretary or the prisoner at the date of my appointment, and until it was produced at Bow Street I did not see it—I did not start the new minute book; a receiver has nothing to do with the minutes of the company—I have not seen the new one, but I believe one was kept—I had no knowledge of the shareholders.

Re-examined. This (Produced) is my appointment as receiver by Mr. Brigg's nominee, dated May 15th—Mr. Doig never acted as accountant and never had anything to do with it—this (Produced) is a letter of the prisoner's, dated June 11th, 1904, to Mr. Browne (Stating that he had seen Mr. Brigg that afternoon and was sorry to say that Mr. Brigg would not pay any more accounts until the amount of Mr. Browne's account was paid into the company's bank; that they could not get the silk they needed and asking Mr. Browne to call at 2 o'clock next day)—the prisoner has always treated me as the accountant.

WILLIAM ALEXANDER JAMES LING . I am a clerk to Mr. Bryant, and I remember him giving me a letter on May 15th which I took to the offices of the Spitalfields Silk Company—I waited there and saw the prisoner

and handed the letter to him personally—he opened and read it and said he would see Mr. Browne about it.

JAMES GREEN BROWNE . I have no occupation—I remember consenting to join the Spitalfields Silk Company and to put capital into it—when I went to the offices of the company I found the prisoner there—he acted as manager there and the secretary there was named Carter—the work connected with the minutes and so on was attended to by the secretary and the prisoner wholly—he was paid £4 a week from the time I went there and Carter 32s. 6d.—I think my appointment as director was about February 24th, 1904—from that time I signed every cheque—the company's banking account was kept at the London Joint Stock Bank, Chancery Lane—I signed the minutes which were put before me—Mr. Brigg, through Mr. Brodie, put in £300 and I put in £300 to start the company—he and I had debentures for our money, and according to the terms of the debentures the capital was to become payable if the company made a default for one month in paying interest and then a receiver could be appointed by the debenture holders to take possession and carry on the business—from time to time I attended to the business during 1904 and 1905 until a receiver was appointed—the receiver was Mr. Bryant, who was appointed by Mr. Brodie as the nominee of Mr. Brigg—up to that time Mr. Bryant had acted as accountant—I have no knowledge of Mr. Doig being an accountant there, and until my attention was called to something in the minutes I had no knowledge of anything having been signed appointing him accountant, and Mr. Doig never suggested to me that he was the accountant—towards the end of last year there was some trouble with the prisoner and he was suspended—I was seen by Mr. Brigg and the matter was talked over, and the prisoner was allowed to go on again—the position of Mr. Bryant as accountant was approved by Mr. Brigg and myself; Mr. Brigg named him and I accepted him—he was a stranger to me—the prisoner never raised any question with regard to my being the only director, and until these proceedings were taken, he never suggested any irregularity as to my acting as director—I remember an occasion when the minutes were gone over by Mr. Bryant and re-written and some additions made—I remember signing them and the prisoner was present when that occurred and saw what was being done—he raised no objection with regard to it—when Mr. Bryant was in possession as receiver Mr. Brigg desired that his debentures should be satisfied and I lent £360 to pay Mr. Brigg—in addition to those sums I have lent money at other times for the purpose of the company—from first to last I have found altogether £960 and I have received £100 of that back from the receiver—I have been paid some fees as director—the prisoner's wages were paid by cheque from week to week—he had no authority from me to use any moneys of the company for any purpose of his own, and until these matters were inquired into I had no knowledge that he had been dealing with cheques belonging to the company—his duty with regard to money received was to pay it to the secretary, whether it was a cheque or cash, and it should have been paid into the bank by the secretary, whose duty it was to make an entry of the source from which it came—it was the prisoner's duty to

make the usual business entries in our books—in April and May, 1905, I was dissatisfied with the state of things—I did not quite know what the liabilities of the company were, as I had been absent for two months or six weeks through illness, but when I came back, I went to the bank and made some inquiries, as the result of which I saw the other debenture holder and on May 12th we gave notice to the company for the repayment of our money—Mr. Brigg had advanced another £100 in the meantime and had additional debentures for that—I do not remember having any conversation with the prisoner about the payment of the debenture interest—I believe that in January the debenture interest was in arrear—it was not paid because the money was not always in the bank, there being other purposes for which money was necessary, payments for silk and wages, and so on—the only security that I and the other debenture holder had to get our capital back was that the business should be a going concern—after Mr. Bryant was put in possession of the business the question of the inquiry into the state of accounts was left to him.

Cross-examined. I did not know the prisoner or Mr. Brigg before I was appointed director of the company—I met the prisoner and Mr. Everett in July, 1904, by accident and I received a letter some weeks afterwards from the prisoner, as he wanted a further interview with me—when I saw him he said, "Well, Browne, I am pleased to see you again"—that was at Mr. Everett's office—the prisoner explained that a company was being started and he would like me to be a director—I was to put £300 into the business, to which I agreed—I knew that Mr. Everett held £300 of Mr. Brigg's—it was certainly the prisoner who asked me to become a director; that was at my first interview with him at the top of Chancery Lane in the street—it was the second interview which took place at Mr. Everett's office—I believe the other debenture holder advanced his money to Mr. Everett subject to his finding a suitable gentleman to take a position in the firm, because the prisoner was an undischarged bankrupt, so he found me to take the reins and sign the cheques—on May 25th I put in £100—I paid all the money to Mr. Everett in one cheque and he paid first £100 in and then £200—I acted as director in the company before I advanced any money—I had never had any connection with the silk trade before this—I was a Manchester agent, doing London business, representing Manchester manufacturers—I gave up that occupation about twenty years ago and have been doing nothing since—I have had nothing to do with horse dealing—I was never a horse dealer in my life, but I kept a hackney stud for amusement—I know nothing about business, but I did not think it was dangerous for me to be a sole director of this company; I thought I was in honest hands—I signed practically whatever was put in front of me—I think this signature at the bottom of the minute dated April 14th is mine—just above the signature is "Mr. A. Doig having consented to become auditor of the company, resolved that his services be accepted by the company"—I do not think those words were there when I signed that minute, and I feel confident I have never seen them before—there are other lines between my signature and the bottom of the minutes—I have never seen Mr. Doig's name in the minutes—I cannot say why the debenture

interest was not paid on January 1st; that was left in the hands of the manager and he paid it when he had the money to spare, and I had confidence in him—the company was nearly always in difficulties for want of money—I had the interest for four months paid to me before January 1st—the interest in January was not paid, I believe, because it was not best for the business—there were wages to be paid and money was wanted for the silk—I did not have £115 in fees; no such bosh—I received £70 or £76 and I was supposed to receive £100—I have not had a penny since March—you must ask the prisoner why I did not get my interest—I signed many blank cheques, I am sorry to say—I trusted the man who had been a director, as I was an ignorant man, and I did virtually what he asked me—if he wanted to send the cheques for signature why didn't he—I did not prevent him; I should not dictate to a manager when he should post letters—I was very much annoyed when I received a cheque to sign for £40 or £50 from the secretary for some silk and I sent it to the silk factor and received it back as not sufficient—that was in February last—my confidence was shaken in November, but that increased my distrust—in November the prisoner had been absent from business and I suspended him—I believe he was absent through drink; I accused him of it and he said it was not—I believe he sent me a doctor's certificate—it did not say he was suffering from drink; I cannot say what it was he said—I did not say he had got a false certificate—in spite of the prisoner's denial and of the doctor's certificate, which said it was something else, I still believed it was drink—the secretary also knew of it and we had the prisoner's brother up from Essex to see him and he said it was drink also—I was friendly with the prisoner in business as one should be, and I used to meet him once or twice a week for about two hours—I did not get into trouble with the Railway Company just before November—you suggested at Bow Street that I was to be prosecuted by the Railway Company for travelling without a ticket and I denied it—I was late one morning and I unfortunately ran on to Harold Wood instead of Romford without a ticket—I was talking to a gentleman and went through the barrier without giving up any ticket as I had not taken one—I went to the office and told the prisoner and he said, "That is all right, Mr. Browne; I know Mr. Scott intimately. We will go and see him"—he is one of the head officials, and I saw him on the third morning and put the matter before him and said, "Mr. Scott, such and such has happened. I am exceedingly sorry; I had no wilful intent and I have never travelled without a railway ticket before in my life, and I trust you will accept this explanation and allow me to offer you five guineas for the Superannuation Fund"—he retired from the room and came back and said, "Mr. Browne, your offer is accepted," and that is the only trouble I got into—the prisoner offered to give me his good offices in the matter and perhaps I jumped at them—I think it happened in December, not November—I was talking to the gentleman about the Cattle Show—I now think it was in November; I will withdraw the Cattle Show—I have never said that I was very friendly with prisoner.

Re-examined. Nobody besides the prisoner's counsel has ever made this suggestion to me about the railway ticket and I have told some

hundreds of people; I am not at all ashamed of it—I had given the prisoner advice about drink and there was a question of his taking the pledge—I had taken it myself as an inducement to him and I kept it faithfully for six months—he did not keep his pledge—I kept mine and felt it somewhat of a punishment—early in 1905 matters came to my knowledge which caused me to write to him on the same subject—this is the letter of February 11th (Stating that the witness had heard from Carter that morning with deep regret that the prisoner was once more ill in bed; that the expected had happened because the witness knew that as soon as the prisoner had broken the pledge all was up; that when the prisoner had returned from Hampshire he had seen it in his face; that he wished him (the prisoner) to sign it once more and keep it for ever, and that White had ordered £40 of silk and he would try to get to the office on Friday).

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had been a silk manufacturer for twenty-five years; that Mr. Brigg had offered to lend him £300 to form a company; that he (the prisoner) promoted the Spitalfields Silk Co.; that he looked upon it as his property; that he told Mr. Everett, his solicitor, that 2,000 £1 shares were to be allotted to him (the prisoner) or his nominee, but he did not get them although he repeatedly asked Mr. Everett for them, who said they were only waste paper; that he said he would have the waste paper, but did not get it; that he (the prisoner) met Mr. Browne, but not at his request; that he understood Mr. Browne was to put £2,000 or £3,000 into the business, but no money was forthcoming; that Mr. Browne said he would be a director and take £100 a year and that the prisoner should take the same and be managing director, as it was his company; that he declined, as he could not live on £100 a year; that Mr. Browne said he (the prisoner) could take all the profits at the end of the year; that he never consented to be manager, but said he would take £200 a year until the business paid better; that he was supposed to be managing director, but was never appointed; that he left everything to Mr. Everett, who said it was not wise for him to be appointed in view of his bankruptcy and that he had better wait a bit; that when he found that Mr. Browne did not put any money in he got dissatisfied and ultimately Mr. Browne put in £300; that Mr. Browne said he would arrange privately with Mr. Doig as to the company getting possession of his (the prisoner's) wife's goods; that Mr. Browne wrote out an open cheque for £300 against Mr. Doig's I. O. U., who cashed it and got possession of the goods which were worth £700 from a firm in the city where they were deposited; that Mr. Browne said the difference between the £300 and the £700 was to go to Mrs. Kipling; that he (the prisoner) sold about £240 worth of the goods, but no separate account was kept, but he could tell what they were by the numbers; that he gave the cheque for £21 13s. to the secretary to pay wages with; that he had nothing to do with the books which were kept by the secretary; that he did not know what had become of the secretary; that the other cheques he received from the secretary on May 14th to whom he said, "I shall hand them over to Mrs. Kipling, as they belong to her"; that he gave them to her; that there was no concealment of them; that he had never been dismissed from the company: that in April he was ill with a severe chill on the liver; that he was not away

through drink; that Mr. Browne had never written to him charging him with giving way to drink, and he had never seen the letter; that he had taken the pledge at his physician's suggestion; that Mr. Browne tried to get him to take to drink; that the debenture interest due on January 1st was not paid because Mr. Browne would not allow it. In cross-examination he said that although the original letter of February 14th, 1905, to him from Mr. Browne was produced to him, he had never seen it, as he was ill at the tine.

Evidence for the Defence.

LIIAN KIPLING . I am the prisoner's wife and we have been married for about sixteen years on May 31st—about the beginning of 1901 Kipling & Co. was in a very bad state and I sold some cottages at Sudbury, in Suffolk, which were my own property, and advanced them £125—the solicitor's name was Ranson & Sons—I received the money with one hand and gave it to the company with the other—it was a cheque; I paid it to the prisoner for the uses of the firm—I next sold some of my furniture at "West-field" for £195—that was sold by Messrs. Wheeler & Westoby—I gave the money to the prisoner for the uses of the firm—I next sold my house, "Westfield," through Messrs. Ward, Perks & McKay, of Gracechurch Street—I got £900 for the house, which was freehold, but there were mortgages which had to be paid, so I only got £300, which I gave to the prisoner—the rest of my furniture I pawned for £400—I was told it was not exactly a bill sale if I warehoused the furniture—I do not know if there was anything else I lent—the company gave me two lots of silk as security—the prisoner and his brother were in the company—I am not a business woman; I do not know if the prisoner and his brother had the business between them at this time—the silk came in two hampers—I took care of it at my house—I think I was told its value was about £700, but I have no knowledge of what it was worth—it was pawned by the prisoner for £300 with my consent to help the company again—I do not know the date—the prisoner must have had the £300; I did not have one penny of it—I do not know if I proved in the prisoner's bankruptcy for the amount I had advanced to the firm; I do not know anything about it—the silk is not still in pledge; the company has it; they asked me if they could have the pawn ticket and get it out of pawn—the company consisted of Mr. Browne; the prisoner told me that—I have not seen the person with whom it was pawned, but his name is Battersby—I saw the ticket; the company has it and they took my goods out of pawn and sold them for their own use.

Cross-examined. I do not know how long the prisoner has been an undischarged bankrupt; I do not understand bankruptcy; it is no good asking me questions about law—the silk was put in my loft at my house and stayed there for some days—the prisoner took it away; I cannot give you the date—it would be in 1900 odd.

WALTER ALFRED BRIGG . I am a member of the firm of Brigg & Co., umbrella manufacturers at 5, St. James', and I am attending here on a subpoena—I have done business with the prisoner and his firm for about fourteen years—after he became bankrupt in 1904 the came to me and

told me that he had no money and could I do anything for him—I said I would see what I could do and offered to put up £300 to start him in business again—I sent £300 to Mr. Everett, his solicitor—I do not know if it was my suggestion that a company should be formed; I gave the money to the solicitor and asked him to use it for the prisoner's benefit and to look after my interest in the £300 and see that I was secured—I believe the company was formed, and some time afterwards I had a debenture as security—I had a nominee named Mr. Brodie, who is my brother-in-law—I think I had the debenture and transferred it to him, but I am not sure—before this company was formed I never heard of Mr. Browne; I think I first heard of him a month or two afterwards and I first met him, I believe, at the First Avenue Hotel—I knew he had been appointed as director of the company and after our interview he put some money in—previous to that I do not think he had put any in—Mr. Everett was present at the interview—I would not be sure if it was Mr. Everett who said it, but they said they wanted some more money and I suggested that as Mr. Browne was a director he should put some money in too—he said if I would put up some more he would do the same, and he offered to put in £200 if I put in £100—I said I did not think that would be sufficient, but I would put in £100 if he would put in £300, and subsequently he did so and took a debenture—we were the two debenture holders—my £300 was put in some time before Mr. Browne put any money in—while the company was in existence I purchased silk from them in fairly considerable quantities and I believe I was one of their best customers—when I heard in May last that the company had turned the prisoner away I continued to deal with them—I pressed to have my debentures paid off, as I was anxious to get my money back and I did not know how the business was going on—I believe there was a receiver there and I wanted to get all I could—I was paid £360, which I agreed to take—to help the prisoner I had been buying silk through him since May—in lending the £300 it was done solely to assist the prisoner, as I wanted to give him an opportunity of making a living.

Cross-examined. I did not know much of the detail of the company—I knew the prisoner's brother was to be employed and he is being employed still—I knew Mr. Bryant, and it was at my instance he was selected as accountant and receiver.

[MR. WATTS submitted that the whole matter was a question of account; that there was no concealment in taking the cheques and that the case should be withdrawn from the Jury. The RECORDER ruled that the case must go to the Jury.]

GUILTY . Nine month in the Second Division.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-113
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

113. STEPHEN MORRIS (60) , Feloniously and carnally knowing Minnie Louisa Gerrard, a girl aged twelve years.

MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER Defended.


11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-114
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

114. STEPHEN MORRIS was again indicted for having unlawfully and carnally known Ivy Forsyth, a girl under the age of thirteen years.

MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER Defended.

GUILTY of indecent assault Nine months' hard labour.

NEW COURT.—Saturday, December 16th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-115
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

115. CHARLES ROBERT ELDERTON (43) , Feloniously receiving the carcases of two dead pigs and three loins of pork, the property of Charles Robert Rilling, which had been feloniously stolen.

MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted; MR. W. B. CAMPBELL Defended.

CHARLES ROBERT RILLING . I am a butcher, carrying on business at 365, New North Road—on October 27th I was in the Meat Market buying meat for my business—I bought from Brewer & Co. seven pigs, and from Darrington & Co. two pigs and two pair of hands, some spare ribs and three pigs' plucks—the pigs from Darrington were Cornish pigs—I can tell a Cornish pig from a Devonshire pig—on Cornish pips the shoes are left on the toes; on other pigs they are generally taken off—from Taylor & Sons I bought three loins of Dutch pork and some back fat—when the fat is cut off the loins we generally call it hog meat, and this that I bought was hog meat—it weighed 6 stone and the pigs weighed 19 stone—I engaged Frederick Greast to collect the things and put them on my van, which was in Charterhouse Street—Greast is a porter whom I had employed there for years in the mornings—I went away and left him to collect the things about 9 o'clock—I returned about 9.30, when Muckenfus, who is a butcher in the market, spoke to me—I looked at my van and saw some beef and mutton there which I had bought, but of the other things which I have mentioned nothing was there except some pigs' plucks and the back fat—the meat which was lost was worth about £9 5s. 8d.—the pigs bought from Brewer were still in the shop and had not been collected; Greast was not there—I went all over the place, but could not find him or his truck, and I went to the police about 10.15 or 10.30 a.m.—this was a Friday—I saw Greast again in the afternoon and had a little conversation with him, but I have not seen him since—that evening I went with some police officers to 48, Red Lion Street, where the prisoner carries on business as a butcher—I did not know him—we got there about 9.30—his shop was then open—I walked up a little distance and came back again in about ten minutes—the shop was still open and a little later Alfred Greast, the brother of Frederick Greast, and I went to the shop and found it was shut—that was about 9.45—Alfred Greast knocked, and a little boy opened the door—we went in and stayed there for about live minutes and the prisoner came—I said, "Guv'nor, I have lost three pigs, three loins, and four shoulders this morning from the market; I have some idea they came up this way. Will you kindly let me have a look at the pork you have in the shop?"—he said, "Yes, you can have a look at it"—I looked round and found a quantity of pork there cut up

and hanging in different parts of the shop—the pieces I found there would make, up two pigs with the exception of three spare ribs and two bellies—I afterwards found the two bellies in the salt cupboard in the cellar—I weighed them and found they weighed 12 lbs. short of 19 stone—the weight of the three ribs would be about 12 lbs., so they weighed apparently just the same as the two pigs I had lost—there was also a quantity of hog meat there cut up into about ten pieces—it was such as would make up three loins with the exception of a neck and a few chops which had gone—I weighed them and found they weighed 6 lbs. short—the weight of the neck and chops which were missing would be about 6 lbs., so they weighed the same as I should expect if they were the same that I had lost—I saw nothing else there which was like the meat I had lost—I say now that the two pigs and the three loins are mine—I recognise them, by the size and quality—the pigs had got the shoes off when I found them—I say they were Cornish pigs—I said to the prisoner, "They are my two pigs and my loins. What have you got to say about them or where did you get them from?—he said, "They were sent up to me. I told a man to buy me a few pigs and they came up this morning"—I asked him if he knew the man and where he was from and if he could take me to him—he said he could not do so that night, but he might be able to in the morning—I asked the name of the carrier who brought them to him and he mentioned Roger and Earnshaw and one name which I could not quite catch", they were not people whom I knew—I said I should like to know where the other pig and the four shoulders had gone to, and a little later on I said, "What are you going to do about the pigs and the loins?"—he said, "You say they are your pork; I am willing to pay you for it if you will meet me," and he repeated that several times—I said, "That will not do for me; I will be back in a few minutes," and I left the shop and told the police and gave him into custody—when the police came in we had some further conversation about the shoulders on hands—there were two pairs still missing and are still, and one pig.

Cross-examined. I had lost more than I found at the prisoner's shop—the value of the two pigs which I found at his shop was £4 5s. 6d. and the loins £1 10s.—I am a retail butcher—I bought this pork on Friday—I sell a good deal of pork on Saturday—I keep my shop open until about 10.30—when I saw the prisoner at his shop he said, "I have been out all day; I have been up at the Law Courts"—he did not say, as far as I know, that he had been in the market that morning—the other name which he mentioned besides Roger and Earnshaw may have been Hyde or White—I weighed the meat myself and found that it made up practically the weight of the meat I had lost—the prisoner himself told me that the pigs weighed 9 stone 6 lbs. and 9 stone 2 lbs.—when I asked him, "Can you show me the delivery note for the pigs?" he said, "No," and I said, "Can you tell me the weight of them?"—he said, "Yes, I can," and he told me, and also the weight of the three loins—it was as clear as daylight that he had got my pigs in his possession on his own admission, and he told me that they had come between 9 and 9.30 that morning—I believe he said he was in the back parlour at the time they came—I have known

Frederick Greast eight or ten years, or perhaps longer—I did not know that there was anything dishonest about him—I have only known Alfred Greast a few years and I only knew that he was Frederick Greast's brother—I did not know that he was dishonest—I always buy my own meat in the market—I have no salesman or scalesman in the market upon whose judgment I rely to send me meat if he thinks I can do with it—I have heard that that is done, but I always buy my own.

Re-examined. When I went to the shop there were three or four quarters of beef and some mutton and a small portion of pork and some small pieces of back fat—it was fairly well stocked and there were some sausages on the counter—when I buy meat in the market I can either take it away myself or have it sent by a carrier—if it is sent by ft carrier, it is the custom to send a delivery note which would state what was being sent and the weight, and I should sign the carrier's book to show that I had received it—if I had meat sent to me from the market on approval I should have to sign for it, which would be the carrier's voucher that he had delivered it.

JOHN MUCKENFUS . I am a pork butcher at 69, St. James' Street, Walthamstow—on October 27th I was in the Meat Market at Smithfield, when I saw the prosecutor buying meat—I saw Frederick Greast—I saw the prosecutor's van there without him—about 9.30 a.m. I first saw Frederick Greast coming up the avenue looking for a constable—he came up to me and told me he had lost his truck—I went and looked for it and found it in Long Lane with some plucks and back fat in it, which he afterwards took to the prosecutor's van—a little while after that I saw the prosecutor again and spoke to him—I saw Frederick Greast again directly afterwards and also on Saturday morning about 9.10, when he came to my place at Walthamstow, but I have never seen him since—he does not live in my neighbourhood.

Cross-examined. Frederick Greast was going about looking for a policeman and seemed very much distracted at having lost some meat for which, he was responsible—I have been in the Meat Market about ten years——I do not know if people have salesmen or scalesmen to buy for them in the market; larger people have their special buyers who are not the same as scalesmen—I do not think it is a rule in the market for a butcher in a small way to have a scalesman belonging to some big people to keep their shop supplied with meat, and I have never heard of it, but they might do so—if a butcher wanted to buy his meat from a scalesman's employer and the scalesman bought the meat elsewhere it would be against the scalesman's employer—business is sometimes done in a pretty rough condition in the Meat Market, but a ticket is supposed to be sent with the meat—it has never happened to me that no ticket has been delivered; I am a German, and perhaps English people may be more lax about it—the scalesman has to weigh the meat and put the weight on the ticket.

JAMES RICHARD REED . I am deputy scalesman to Darrington & Co., and on October 27th the prosecutor bought from my firm two pigs and some other pork—I did not weigh them, but one pig weighed 9 stone 6 lbs., and the other 9 stone 2 lbs., and the two pair of hands weighed something more—I did not make out a ticket, because he paid cash—

the clerk makes out the ticket when the weight is called out—the buyer is often there when the meat is weighed—I delivered the things to a porter whose name, I believe, is Frederick Greast—we have no porters employed by ourselves, but if you did not book a purchase in, I should call at the carriers and book it in and they send porters and collect it—we should send out a weight note; I cannot say if things are sent out without a delivery note—if a person not in a very large way of business employs somebody to make a purchase for him in the market it would be the porter's duty to ask for a weight note to give satisfaction to the person who has ordered the meat, and it is taken by the porter and delivered to the man who drives the van to the customer so that he can see if it is the correct weight—the carrier would not have to get a receipt from the buyer—sometimes a carrier will send three or four times to a man in one day.

Cross-examined. Some people are careless and do not trouble about a weight note being sent, so the porter does not trouble about it.

WILLIAM DREW . I am a scalesman to Jonathan Taylor & Sons, of Smithfield Meat Market—on October 27th the prosecutor bought from us three loins of Dutch pork and some back fat—I weighed the Dutch pork, which came to 6 stone; those are the loins—I delivered them to Frederick Greast, I think his name is; he is a porter and is known as "Jack."

ALFRED GREAST . I live at 14, King's Cross Road, and am a porter in Smithfield Market without a licence—I formerly had a licence, but I was convicted of stealing meat although I was innocent—I lost my licence after twenty-five years; that was two or three years ago—I got four months here—since then I have helped the police three or four times—on October 27th, about 6.30 p.m., in Clerkenwell Road I heard of the robbery of this meat and I went round and looked in three different shops—the fourth shop I looked at was the prisoner's, whom I knew, and h knows me by working in the market—I saw some pigs in the window which looked rather superior to what I had seen before—the prisoner came out and said, "What are you after?"—I said, "Some pork"—he said, "Have you heard anything?"—I said, "No"—he said, "How are things going on?"—he gave me half a crown, which I took and went to the nearest police station—I said nothing about my brother Jack—I took the half-crown, thinking it would cause suspicion if I did not—I did not tell the prisoner what I was looking for—I went to the shop with the prosecutor and the detectives; I did not have any more conversation with the prisoner before that—when I went to the shop again I told him Mr. Rilling had come about his pigs—he said there was some mistake—I said, "You ought to know"—Mr. Rilling said, "They are my pork; did you weigh them?"—the prisoner said, "Yes, one weighed 9 stone 2 lbs., and the other 9 atone 6 lbs."—Mr. Rilling said, "That is the very weight of my pigs and likewise the quality"—I said to the prisoner, "What about the loins?"—he said, "Take one piece down," and I took one piece and the prosecutor the other, and the prisoner said, "They weighed 6 stone"—the prosecutor said, "That is the correct weight of my loins"—they were cut up into nine or ten pieces.

Cross-examined. The charge against me was stealing a van load of meat and a horse; I do not know anything about the van—I know nothing about my brother Fred; I have not seen him since September 4th, and I was working for the police at that time—I did not see him on October 27th; I was not near the market on that day—I know he has disappeared from London, but I have not been to his place since he has been married; we are not on very friendly terms—when I went to the prisoner's place on this day I did not mention my brother's name—when I told him I was looking for something he asked me what I meant—it was later in the evening when my brother's name was mentioned—I signed my deposition and it was read over to me—my suspicion was excited by the quality of the meat and also by the prisoner giving me half a crown as be would not give me one for nothing—the police did not keep the half-crown; they gave it back to me—they do not pay me; they get me work when they want observation kept on people and other things.

GEORGE BUTCHER (Detective, City). On October 27th I went with the prosecutor and some other officers to Red Lion Street—the prosecutor went into the prisoner's shop first with Alfred Greast, leaving us outside—he afterwards called us in, when I saw the prisoner and said to him, "I am a police officer and Mr. Rilling identifies this pork as having been stolen from him this morning; how do you account for the possession of it?"—he said, "They were sent up to me"—I said, "Who sent them?"—he said, "I do not know who sent them, whether Roger, Hyde, or Earnshaw"—I said, "Had you a receipt or anything, or any other paper with them?"—he replied, "I had no paper left with them; I was out when they came in a van. There were two pigs and two hog meats"—I said, "Who brought them?"—he said, "I do not know who brought them; they came about 10.30"—he then called me into a little office and said, "I do not know who brought them; they came about 10.30. I was in the back room; anybody sends me meat up. I admit it is silly"—he was taken to the station—I have made inquiry for Frederick Greast, but he has disappeared with his family from Ilford, where he lived.

Cross-examined. I did not press the defendant about having no paper with the meat—he at once said he had not got any—I put down what he said as he said it.

JOSEPH JOSLIN (Detective E.) I went with Butcher and other officers to the prisoner's shop on October 27th and had a conversation with him—Butcher was then at the back of the counter taking the meat down—I asked the prisoner if he had a note giving the weight of the pigs—he said, "No, nothing"—I said, "Did you weigh them yourself?"—he said, "The two weighed 19 stone 1 lb."—I said, "Who are you going to pay for them?"—he said, "I do not know until they come for the money"—I said, "Do not you buy off the salesmen?"—he said, "Not always; sometimes I buy from the scalesmen"—I asked him who the scalesmen were and what were their names—he said, "One is Hyde and one Roger If he likes he can have the pigs back"—I asked who the men worked for and he said, "I cannot tell you if they are his pigs; he can have them

or I will pay for them"—I asked him how much the odd pieces weighed and he said 6 stone.

Cross-examined. I could not very well find out if there is a Hyde working in the market, because there are so many porters, and the majority of them have nicknames.

WILLIAM HAYMAN (Detective E.) On the evening of October 27th Alfred Greast came to the police station and made a statement to me and showed me a half-crown—I went with the prosecutor and Butcher to the prisoner's shop and after he was arrested I took him to Snow Hill police station—on the way he made a voluntary statement to me and said, "Alf, from Collingwood's, sends me up the stuff because he knew I was in low water; he acts like a brother to me. Of course it is foolish to be mixed up in this sort of thing."

Cross-examined. I made a note of the words immediately I got into the police station and he said them just before we got there—I do not know Hyde; I know Alf—I do not know if Hyde is called Alf—a man named "Alf" works at Collingwood's and his name may be Hyde.

G. BUTCHER (Re-examined by the COURT). I found this paper on the prisoner, "Can you do with these four shoulders, 6s.? They have never said any more about the stuff, so you know what to do. Tom."

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that no charge of dishonesty had ever been made against him before; that he had been employed by Mr. Buer, of Fetter Lane, for more than twenty years; that when he set up in business he sometimes bought his own meat and sometimes got Alfred Hyde, who worked at Collingwood's, and other people whom he knew in the market to buy meat for him, among them being Earnshaw and Roger; that he very seldom got a ticket with meat bought in that way; that he would weigh the meat; that on October 21th he was in the market about 7 a.m., and told "Alf" he wanted a couple of pigs; that after breakfast a couple of pigs were delivered at his shop, but he did not see them arrive; that he did not know they were stolen, but thought that "Alf" had sent them; that after attending the Law Courts, as he had to that day, he went to the market and saw Alf, who told him he had not sent the two pigs up; that he (the prisoner) did not know who had sent them; that he did not know Alfred Greast or his brother and did not give him a half-crown; that he offered to give the meat back to the prosecutor and had explained to him that he (the prisoner) had previously lost a side of beef which had been delivered at another shop by mistake; that Hyde had been buying meat for him, as he was in low water and could not get credit; that he had got the note from Tom, who worked at Taylor's, some time before; and that he had not had jour shoulders on October 27th.

Evidence for the Defence.

HORACE HYDE . I am a salesman to Messrs. Collingwood, of the Central Meat Market—my nickname in the market is "Alf"—I have known the prisoner for some years; he has been in the habit of buying meat in the market and deals with us—I buy meat for him and send it up for him, and he never knows when it is coming, as I know the requirements of his shop—I converse with him every morning—I know he has not been very

flush with money recently, and by his dealing with me he gets a longer credit than he would if he dealt with the principals, as I buy from my masters and sell to him—I am allowed to buy anything which is left late in the day—on October 27th the prisoner was in the market in the morning between 7 and 8, which was a Friday—there is no Saturday market; Friday is the biggest day in the market in the week—on that morning he asked me if I could send him three sheep and said, "I can do with some rumps and top side if they come cheap, and with a pig or two, but that is not particular until the morning"—he made no particular purchase then, but said he had a case at the Law Courts and when he had finished there he would come back and see me—he came back in the afternoon and asked me what the pigs which I had sent him cost—I said I had not sent him any and perhaps somebody had left them in mistake—I have often known such mistakes to be made—I know Earnshaw, and when I buy meat I always go and book it with him—I never send a ticket where I send meat out in this way—I should tell the prisoner next time I saw him what it cost—I keep a note of the weight in my pocket book—these (Produced) are accounts of the transactions I have had with him; sometimes he pays by cheques, sometimes by money—these (Produced) are my bills.

Cross-examined. These bills are headed to me; there is nothing on them to show that the prisoner has anything to do with it—I should pay the cheque into the firm from whom I had the meat—these transactions are weekly; I make 5 per cent, out of them from him—the object of it is that he is short of capital and I advance it until he gets right—his credit is one week—Earnshaw is a carrier and does not buy and sell meat—I do not know Roger; I have never heard the name—my transactions with the prisoner are generally late in the day after 2 o'clock—meat might come from me to him at 10 a.m., and if I bought the pigs he might accept them at that time—I only buy things late in the day when I want to buy cheaply—on October 27th I sent him three sheep besides some beef; I did not send him any pigs that day—I do not recollect sending him anything else that day, so these pigs could not arrive with my sheep—I sent the sheep about 8.30 and they would arrive about 9.30 or 10 a.m., or before—I did not send him any loins.

FREDERICK RODERS . I am employed by the prisoner at 48, Red Lion Street—there are two other assistants there—I am the boy—I remember two pigs and some pork being delivered on October 27th, about 10 a.m. by a carrier—I helped to take it in—when the carrier had gone the prisoner came into the shop and helped weigh the meat—I never saw Alfred Greast in Red Lion Street—I was not at the shop when the prisoner was arrested.

Cross-examined. I know Hyde, and that he bought for the prisoner—I do not remember anything else coming besides these pigs—I am generally out when meat is brought by the carmen—the shopman, George Emmett, was in the shop with me when the pigs were brought—I do not know the men who brought them—I had never seen them before—I saw no name on the van—nobody asked where they came from and I Was not told—the carrier said, "Elderton?"—I said, "Yes," and he delivered

the meat—the name is over the shop—no paper was left—I was not asked to sign anything—the prisoner did not seem surprised when they delivered them—he weighed them up in the ordinary way.

GEORGE DELL . I am a scalesman to Joshua Taylor, of the Central Meat Market—this paper, signed "Tom," was written by me nearly twelve months ago—there is no date on it—the prisoner sent me a note asking me to buy him four shoulders cheap, and I bought him four Canterbury shoulders; he sent them back and said they were not the right sort—"They have never said any more about the other, so you know what to do," refers to a debt he owed at the shop which I had to go and try to collect.

Cross-examined. I do not buy or sell for my master; my only duty is to weigh—I bought for the prisoner as a favour to save him coming down—I do not get a commission—I send the meat back by the boy the prisoner sends down—I remember calling for a bill in 1904; it had nothing to do with the four shoulders—I have bought things for the prisoner several times—when I buy them he pays me for them; sometimes I buy at other places—I cannot remember where I bought the shoulders—I did not buy them off my master—when he sent them back I kept them myself and got rid of them the best way I could—three shoulders would cost about 4d. per lb. and there would be about 4 lbs. in a small shoulder—Is. 6d. for a small New Zealand shoulder is not very cheap.

GUILTY . He received a good character. Nine months' hard labour.

FOURTH COURT.—Saturday, December 16th, 1905.

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K. C.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-116
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

116. JOHN MOGG LONGMAN, Within four months next before the presentation of a bankruptcy petition against him, did unlawfully pawn and dispose of, otherwise than in the ordinary course of his trade, a diamond pendant which he had obtained from Robert Alexander on credit and had not paid for, with intent to defraud. Other Counts. Charging similar offences with regard to other property belonging to others and incurring a debt and liability to Robert Alexander to the amount of £95 And obtaining credit from him to that amount under false pretences.

MR. BOYD Prosecuted.

ROBERT ALEXANDER . I am a jewellery salesman trading at the Safe Deposit, Pall Mall—I have known the prisoner for two or three years and have had dealings with him—in October, 1904, I had dealings with him with reference to a diamond pendant—before I handed it to him I gave him a certain period during which he could deal with it—on October 19th I arranged to let him have a diamond pendant on sale or return—it was to be returned or paid for within four days—the price was £95—I told him it was not my property but someone else's—I saw him almost daily—I asked him if he had sold it—he said, "No"—he asked me for an extension of time and said he had not seen his customer yet—by permission of the owner of the pendant I gave him an extension of time for three

more days—on October 28th I received a letter stating that his liabilities amounted to £1,000—I saw him on October 31st and asked him where my pendant was—he said he had pawned it for £50—I never authorised him to pawn it—I asked him where the ticket was and he said his son-in-law had it—I said, "You had better get it"—this is it—it was pawned by George Howard, 79, Calabria Road, as security for the loan of £50—the pawnbroker is C. E. Gill, 15, Hampstead Road, N. W.—I never knew the prisoner by the name of George Howard, nor that he lived at 79, Calabria Road—I redeemed the pendant—I have not got my £50 back—I have had to return the pendant to its owner—as far as I am concerned I am £50 out of pocket by the transaction—I have had goods from the prisoner up to about £1,000, on sale or return—I always returned them if I did not sell them—if I kept them I paid for them.

ARTHUR DODD , I am the managing director of Dodd & Sons, of 146, Leadenhall Street, jewellers—I have known the prisoner for ten years in connection with the jewellery trade—I have had various transactions with him—my practice in dealing with him was to let him have goods on sale or return—on June 16th, 1904,1 let him have two diamond rings on sale or return, price £23—seven days are allowed for the sale or return—the goods were not returned to us by that time—in due course I sent the prisoner an invoice—he came in and said he had sold one and hoped very soon to sell the other—in October we received a circular letter from him—I cannot produce the document, as it was destroyed—we treated the transaction as a bad debt and never proved in the bankruptcy—we have not received our rings back nor the £23—the prisoner at no time told me that he had pawned the goods—he had no authority from me to do so.

GEORGE ZACHERY ALLNUTT . I am a dealer in jewellery, living at 141, Peckham Rye—I have known the prisoner for about twenty years and have had dealings with him for about five years—I remember his coming to me in September, 1904, at the Chancery Lane Safe Deposit—he asked me if I had got a pearl necklace for a customer of his, somewhere between £70 and £100—I said I would try to get one—on September 20th I let him have two pearl necklaces—their value was £84 and £95—the terms on which he had them were that he was to give me an answer as soon as he could—they were on sale or return—after inquiry I got the £84 one returned, but not the £95 one—he did not say at any time that he had pawned the £95 necklace three days after he got it from me—he had no authority to do so—on October 3rd I let him have three miniatures to show a customer—had I known on October 3rd that my necklace had been pawned by him on September 23rd I would not have let him have those—the price of them was £9, on sale or return—on October 17th I let him have a three-stone diamond ring, value £28—between September 20th and October 27th I received no payment for those goods, nor have I received them back except the £84 necklace—on October 27th I received a letter from him saying he was unable to meet his engagements—that was the first intimation I received that he was insolvent—I then called on him and he gave me the pawntickets

for the goods—I redeemed them—the necklace was pawned for £35, the miniatures for £3 and the ring for £20, besides interest—I would not have allowed him to have those goods if I had known they were going to be pawned—I have had to pay those sums I have mentioned to get back my jewellery.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. We have had a good many transactions together at various times—we have frequently handled each other's goods and we have paid each other, excepting these transactions in question here.

WILLIAM BUSSELL . I am manager to Messrs. Gill, pawnbrokers, 15, 17 and 19, Hampstead Road—I know the prisoner—I have lent him money on articles—on October 20th, 1904, the prisoner pledged a diamond pendant with us for £50 in the name of George Howard, 79, Calabria Road—it was redeemed by Mr. Alexander on November 4th—in September, 1904, the prisoner pledged with us two diamond rings and a number of brilliant buttons for £30 in the name of Howard, 79, Calabria Road—I never knew him as Longman until these proceedings.

Cross-examined. It is not unusual for customers to give different names to their own—when you pledged articles with us you generally redeemed others; you did not take money—as a rule you paid interest out of you own pocket—it is not unusual for a small trader to raise money on goods for temporary purposes—you have never left anything in our hands until the things in question here—some goods you pledged under market value.

ASHLEY SAUNDERS . I am manager to Mr. T. A. Robertson, pawn-broker, 24, Mortimer Street—I know the prisoner—he has been in the habit of pledging articles of jewellery with us—on September 23rd, 1904, he pledged a pearl necklace with us for £35—it was redeemed on November 26th; I cannot say by whom—on October 17th the prisoner pledged with us two brilliant rings, and three pearl studs, for £38—those were redeemed by Mr. Allnutt and not by the prisoner—on October 17th two miniatures were pledged for £3—they were redeemed by Mr. Allnutt.

GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger in the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of the bankruptcy proceedings in the case of George Mogg Longman—I find that a receiving order was made on November 23rd, 1904—the adjudication was on December 6th, 1904—the public examination was on February 17th, 1905, and the order of the Court to prosecute on June 23rd, 1905—the liabilities are £1,326 11s. 3d; assets £267 18s. 9d.—I have here on the file the transcript of the notes of the public examination.

CHARLES EDWARD HARTRUPT . I am an Examiner in the Official Receiver's department—the prisoner furnished me with a pawning account, which is upon the file—it is in his writing—looking at it I find that he purchased from Mr. Allnutt a pearl necklace for £95, and that appears a being pledged with Mr. Robertson for £35 in September—also I find in the same list, Dodd & Co., two diamond rings purchased for £23 in July, pawned with Mr. Gill in September and some buttons, total £30—the total amount of the pledging, according to his list, is £1,773—the shorthand notes of his public examination bear his signature on each page, John Longman—it is the prisoner's writing.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, stated that he nearly always had in his possession goods from different people amounting in value to hundreds of pounds, but could not say that that was so at the time he pawned the goods in question; that he expected to sell them and make a profit on them; and that he thought some friends of his would have come forward and assisted him.

GUILTY . Four months in the Second Division.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-117
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

117. HORACE BURTON BROWN (23), JOHN WELSH (23), and MARY ANN SHEEHAN, Feloniously assaulting David Whitehead and robbing him of 4s. 9d., his money.

MR. LYONS Prosecuted.

DAVID WHITEHEAD . I live at 2, Dysart Street, Finsbury—about 9 p.m. on December 7th I met Sheehan; I happened to knock her glass of ale down accidentally and I got into conversation with her—I had two or three drinks with her—we went up to another public-house in Brick Lane—I do not remember coming out, as I had had a lot to drink—I do not know whether she followed me or not—I made my way down some yard—when I first met her I counted my money and found I had 4s. 9d. and two farthings; I spent about a 1s. with her as near as I can recollect—I left the public-house with 3s. 6d. and the two farthings—I lost it all—I do not know Brown or Welsh.

Cross-examined by Brown. I was not with her as long as two hours—the last drink I had with her was at the Seven Stars, Brick Lane—the evidence at the Police Court is that I left her at the Seven Stars—after I was assaulted some chaps standing outside the Jewish Synagogue said that they thought I was one of the boys or they would not have let me go down the yard—I was set upon by several men—I did say at the police station that I believed you were one of the men, but I would not swear to you at the Police Court—I identified Sheehan—I did not mention at the Police Court that I had two farthings; I could not think of everything—directly it came into my head I asked the police if they had found the farthings—I have thought of it the whole week you have been waiting for trial—the police did not mention it to me at all first—I cannot say whether I was struck by a knuckle duster.

Cross-examined by Welsh. I do not know you.

JOSEPH SHULMAN . I am fourteen years of age and live at 13, Spillmann Street—on the evening of December 7th I was in Finch Street, when I saw a man and Sheehan walking—I walked along with my friend, Isenberg, when Brown comes up behind my friend and hits him—after I followed them I told a constable at Brick Lane and he told me to follow them up and see what they were going to do—it was Brown that the policeman told me to follow—I saw him go down Finch Street with three other chaps—I then saw Welsh tell Sheehan to go down a turning—they all met her at the corner of Brick Lane—I saw the prosecutor with her then—I had not known him before—Sheehan took him down to the stable and afterwards she ran out of the stable to the corner of Brick Lane—she

saw Welsh and the three other chaps go out and she ran back with them—I saw what they did when Brown, Welsh and two other chaps went into this stable—the prosecutor was at the bottom of the stable—Brown had a knuckle duster, and I saw him hit the prosecutor with it—Welsh laid him down and then the other two chaps went over his pockets—Sheehan joined the men when they came out in Commercial Street—I saw Welsh take a piece of bread out of the prosecutor's pocket—there was gaslight in the stable—the lamp was not very far away from them.

Cross-examined by Brown. I heard Welsh tell Sheehan to take the prosecutor down to the stable—I was at the corner of Finch Street then, and you were opposite the pub and not very far away from Welsh—when I saw you strike the prosecutor with a knuckle duster I was standing opposite the stable on the other side—you struck him four or five times—my friend had not left my side the whole time.

Cross-examined by Welsh. You eat the bread that you took out of the prosecutor's pocket, and you gave the other chap a bit.

BENJAMIN ISENBERG . I am twelve years old and live at 5, Ely Place, Mile End Road—I was with Shulman on the night of December 7th—Brown hit me and Shulman and I followed him—I saw the prosecutor with Sheehan down Fournier Street—Shulman and I kept together all the time after I had been hit—they went down to a stable in Fournier Street—I cannot say whether there was any light in the stable—I could not see distinctly—I saw a struggle—I was on the other side of the pavement—the street is about six yards wide—after the struggle three men went up Commercial Street and Sheehan followed them—I said something to a policeman.

Cross-examined by Brown. My friend was about a yard away from me when the struggle was going on in the stable.

By the COURT. I do not know why Brown struck me—he told me to go away after he struck me.

ALFRED BERNSTEIN . I am a tailor, of 3, Helena Terrace, Chicksand Street—about 10.30 p.m. I saw Sheehan with the prosecutor in the street going towards the yard—Brown and Welsh were following behind—I lost sight of them—they went into the stable, but I cannot say about Sheehan—she went out of the doorway next to the stable—I saw the prosecutor later on bleeding all over his face—he made a complaint to me—I asked him to come to the hospital, but he would not—I stayed with him till a sergeant and a constable came up, and he told his story to them.

Cross-examined by Brown. It was about fifteen minutes after I lost sight of you all that I saw you again—I was waiting with the prosecutor about five or ten minutes before the police came.

Cross-examined by Welsh. I am certain I saw you there too—when I came to the station I said I lost sight of you and I did not know who you all were.

ARTHUR DOYLE (Sergeant 38 H.) At 10.30 p.m. I was with Clark at the corner of Commercial Street and Wentworth Street when two

boys came and made a communication to us—I went to the entrance of Stafford House, Wentworth Street, where we saw the three prisoners in the gateway—I told them I should take them to the station on suspicion of having assaulted and robbed a drunken man—Brown attempted to get past when Clark stopped him and said, "What have you got in your pocket? It seems very heavy"—Brown then produced a knuckle duster—we took the prisoners to the station—I then went with one of the boys to the yard in Fournier Street and looked at the spot where the assault had taken place and saw three or four clots of blood—we then went into Brick Lane, where I saw the prosecutor, who was very drunk—I took him to the station, where he was charged with being drunk, but he was discharged; the police surgeon had to be called in to attend to his injuries—he made a complaint of having been robbed and he charged the prisoners—Brown and Welsh made no reply when charged, and Sheehan, referring to the two boys, said, "You little Jew b—; you sees too much"—I searched Welsh at the station and he had a penknife in his possession—Clark searched Brown and found 1s. 0 1/2 d. in bronze; there were two farthings amongst the coins.

Cross-examined by Welsh. I did not search you until you got to the station—I did not say to you, "You have got some"—you did not say, "Some of what"—and I did not say, "Some counterfeit coins"—I did not then proceed to search you and you did not say, "You are not allowed to do that in the street"—I did not say, "Shut your mouth."

WILLIAM CLERK (279 H.) I was with Doyle on December 7th and went with him to Stafford House, Wentworth Street—in the passage I saw the prisoners—I stopped Brown and Welsh coming out of the passage—Brown said, "What do you want?" and I said, "I do not know, but I am going to take you to Commercial Street police station on suspicion of having robbed and assaulted a man in Fournier Street"—he said, "How do you know you are?" and tried to push by me—I pinned him up against the wall—he said first, "Do you think I am b—well lined with counterfeit coin?"—I said, "Perhaps," and I felt something in his trousers and said, "What is that?" and he then produced this knuckle duster (Produced)—we took them to Commercial Street police station—after that we went to the stable and found four or five fresh clots of blood—from there we went to Brick Lane and saw the prosecutor—I said to him, "What is the matter with you? How did you get injured?"—he said, "I have been robbed," and then we took him to the Commercial Street police station, where the prisoners were charged—in reply to the charge Brown and Welsh made no reply and Sheehan said, "You little Jew b—; you are too clever," or words to that effect—on Brown I found 1s. and two farthings in bronze, and the knuckle duster that he had handed to me—on Welsh was found a knife—on Sheehan, when searched by a female warder, 1d. was found.

Cross-examined by Brown. When you tried to get out I pushed you back behind Welsh—I did not say to you, "I am going to take you on suspicion of having counterfeit coin."

Brown, in his defence on oath, said that Welsh and he on returning from

the music hall on this evening happened to meet Sheehan, whom they asked to have a drink; that while uniting while she went to the lavatory Shulman and Isenberg endeavoured to f of low her, where upon he clipped their ears and told them to be off; that after a minute or two they returned with policemen who arrested him for having counterfeit coins; that the reason for his having a knuckle duster was to defend himself from some of his associates whose enmity he had incurred; that he had had nothing to do with the assault; that he had never seen the prosecutors before, and that Isenberg and Shulman were swearing falsely.

Welsh: "I corroborate what Brown says; it is true."

GUILTY . Nine previous convictions were proved against BROWN. He received a very bad character from the police— Five years' penal servitude. A previous conviction was proved against WELSH. He was stated to be living on the earnings of a prostitute— Four years' penal servitude. SHEEHAN was stated to be a notorious prostitute— Twelve months' hard labour.

OLD COURT.—Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, December 14th, 15th, 16th, 18th, 19th, 20th and 21st, 1905.

Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-118
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

118. HUGH WATT (49) , Unlawfully soliciting and endeavouring to persuade Herbert Marshall, James Shuttle, and Thomas Worley to kill and murder Julia Watt.


MR. HORACE AVORY , K. C., and MR. MUIR Defended.

THOMAS BATEMAN HOUSTON . I am a clerk in the Probate and Divorce Registry of the High Court of Justice—I produce certain sealed and certified copies of proceedings in that Court, namely, a petition for divorce, dated October 11th, 1895, in which the petitioner is Julia Watt and the respondent the prisoner, on the ground of adultery with a lady, not connected with this case—there was a decree for judicial separation on May 21st, 1896, on the ground that the respondent had been guilty of adultery, but not of cruelty—I produce another petition of Julia Watt against the prisoner, dated November 29th, 1900, in which a decree of judicial separation is prayed on the ground of adultery with Lady Violet Beauchamp—that was dismissed on January 15th, 1901, by consent, each party paying its own costs—I produce a further petition of Julia Watt against the prisoner, dated April 18th, 1901, originally for a decree of judicial separation, but subsequently amended to a petition, in which a decree of divorce was prayed on the ground of cruelty, and adultery with Lady Violet Beauchamp—the decree nisi in amended form was pronounced on March 5th, 1903, but since that time no steps as regards making it absolute have been taken—I produce a certified sealed copy of a petition in which Sir Reginald Beuchamp was the petitioner. Lady Violet the respondent, and the prisoner the co-respondent, dated December 18th,

1900—on May 7th, 1901, a decree in that suit was pronounced, which on November 25th, 1901, was made absolute.

Cross-examined. I also produce the proceedings relating to Herbert Marshall—on January 20th, 1899, a petition was filed by Herbert Augustus Marshall against his wife, and there was a decree nisi on June 12th, 1899, which was rescinded on the intervention of the Queen's Proctor on January 29th, 1900, on the ground that divers material facts respecting the conduct of the petitioner in the said suit had not been brought before the Court; "that during May, June, and July, 1899, the petitioner had habitually committed adultery with a woman named Mrs. Williamson at 35, Ladbroke Gardens"—the decree was never made absolute.

RICHARD OWEN ROBERTS . I am an official of the Judgment Department of the High Courts of Justice, and produce the original proceedings in an action of Mrs. Julia Watt against Violet Beauchamp, the original writ being dated July 26th, 1901, claiming damages from the defendant for libel—the solicitors for the plaintiff were Messrs. Charles Russell & Co.—that action was heard and I produce the original judgment dated October 30th, 1902, for £5,000 after verdict—those damages were reduced by the Court of Appeal to £1,500 on June 17th, 1903—I have no record at all of the House of Lords appeal, because the judgment stands, as it is one of reduction of damages.

HENRY JEPHSON BREWER . I am a registered medical practitioner—I have been attending Henry Drummond at 96, Holly Street, Dalston—I last saw him this morning—he is suffering from acute tuberculosis, and it is absolutely impossible for him to be here to-day; it would be quite dangerous.

By the COURT. I am afraid acute tuberculosis is never likely to be cured.

Cross-examined. He has been suffering from this for the last five weeks; I have been attending him for about the last month—I had never attended him before that—he is almost always in bed; he gets up for a few hours of an afternoon and then sits in a chair; he cannot walk at all—I cannot say with absolute certainty, but I am afraid he will never come out of doors again—he says he has only been ill for about six weeks—he must have been suffering for some slight period longer than that, but it may be quite rapid.

By the COURT. In an acute form it may be quite rapid.

HENRY FOWLER (Sergeant, Metropolitan Police). I was present on August 25th at Marlborough Street Police Court when Henry Drummond gave evidence—the prisoner was present, represented by Mr. Freke Palmer, who cross-examined Drummond.

HERBERT AUGUSTUS MARSHALL . I live at 5, Hanger Lane, Ealing, and am in partnership with Mr. Sweeney at 5, Regent Street, as inquiry agents—I have been in partnership with him for nearly two years—on the evening of August 9th Mr. Bicknell called at the office and made an appointment; I did not see him—I did not see him the next day—I had some conversation with Mr. Sweeney—about 11 a.m. on August 10th Mr. Sweeney introduced the prisoner to me at the office; that was the first

time I had seen him—he did not say anything as to the object for which he was there on that day; they went out together after the introduction—Mr. Sweeney returned alone—on August 11th the prisoner had an interview with me at the office—he gave us instructions to watch his wife, Mrs. Julia Watt, who lived at 15, Chapel Street; he said he wanted the life she was leading found out and we discussed the question of terms—this document (Ex. A), dated August 11th, 1905, was drawn up in his presence—it is in my writing—he read it through afterwards, signed it, and left the office—he came back about twenty minutes afterwards and made an interlineation (Read): 5, Regent Street, London, S.W., August 11th, 1905. Dear Sirs,—I hereby instruct you to take such steps as you may deem expedient to find out the mode of living of Mrs. Watt, of 15, Chapel Street, and, if possible, to induce her to make absolute the decree nisi she obtained against me, and I agree to pay you your usual charges f one guinea per each officer engaged, together with the out-of-pocket expenses, and I further agree that if you are successful in bringing about the decree nisi being made absolute and a settlement of all disputes, to pay you by way of a bonus the sum of £1,000. Yours faithfully, Hugh Watt," addressed to "Sweeney & Marshall, 5, Regent Street"—he came back and interlined the words "and a settlement of all disputes"—the bonus of £1,000 was the prisoner's own suggestion—I saw him next about 11 a.m. on August 12th at the office—he spoke of the immoral life that he said Mrs. Watt was living; that he had had a girl he was keeping and had been keeping for two years, whom he would produce at the proper time to speak as to these acts, and he likewise showed me a typewritten post card of a very scurrilous nature which he said had evidently come from Mrs. Watt and we must find out, as he would lock her up—I do not think he said anything about litigation on that occasion—he told us we were to watch her and find out the character of the people who visited her; that we were to get in with the servants—we did watch her—shortly after he left, we got a telephone message from him—he seemed very excited and said that Lady Violet Beauchamp had been assaulted by hooligans just off Sloane Street at the instigation of Mrs. Watt and we really must do something in the matter—I told him he must leave the matter in our hands and we would do our best, and if he did not approve of what we were doing he could take his business elsewhere—he said, "Come and see me at 72, Knightsbridge, at 9.30 on Monday"—I kept that appointment and he told me that I must see Mrs. Watt, and gave me £10 in gold for expenses—I did not give him any receipt—nothing else took place at that interview—about 3.30 p.m. on that day I called at 15, Chapel Street, which was a house to let, furnished—I was shown over the house by a servant named Maloney—I saw Mrs. Watt and had some conversation with her—about 5 p.m. the same day I saw the prisoner and told him that Mrs. Watt was very much frightened at his violent behaviour towards her on the occasion of his visit there, which was made the subject matter of the prisoner applying for a summons at Westminster—he did not say anything to that—I told him that Mrs. Watt had told me that he (the prisoner) had offered her £600 a year to give up the settlement of 1901—I do not

think he said very much as to that then—the prisoner had mentioned that settlement to me before my interview with Mrs. Watt—he showed me another post card, a written one, of a scurrilous character, but not quite so bad as the first one he showed me, and he said, "Something must be done. You must really find out where these come from"—I said, "We will do our best"—he made an appointment for me to see him the next day at 72 Knightsbridge, at 5 p.m.—I went there the next day and saw him—he began talking about Mrs. Watt; he spoke of the occasion on which he had been to 15, Chapel Street, and said that during the altercation he struck Mrs. Watt over the left breast with his left arm, but that owing to the muscles of his left arm having been hurt or strained he was not; able to strike an effective blow; that he swung round to give her the right and finish her, and just then Mary Maloney came in at the doorway—he then asked me if I could recommend him a solicitor who could deal with these post cards—he said he had been robbed by solicitors, and mentioned various names—he mentioned that he had given Bernard Abrahams £2,000 to murder Mrs. Watt; that he, Abrahams, and two other men went down to where Mrs. Watt was then living, but at the last moment they showed the white feather and stuck to the £2,000—I recommended him a solicitor—he said he would do for her and produced a wooden case from a roll top desk, which he unscrewed and produced a bottle containing some white liquid, which he said was chloroform—he removed the stopper, but I did not smell it—he then said, "You get Mrs. Watt to come here. We will get her downstairs, where I have a room prepared. I will give her a push, chloroform her, and when it is all over you are to go for Dr. Francis Blake, of Putney, who will certify death to be heart disease"—he said that Mrs. Watt had suffered from a weak heart—I said, "You must be mad," and at once left the place—before I left he said he would come and see me the following day—on August 16th, the following day, he telephoned me he was coming and would arrive at 11 a.m., which he did—he came to fetch the post cards which were in my possession; he only stayed a minute or two, and said, "I am coming to see you to-morrow at 11 o'clock to get the matter settled up"—on that day I seriously thought over what he said the day before, and on the next morning, August 17th, I gave some instructions to McKenna and Drummond, who were in my employ—the prisoner came about 11 a.m. into my private room—he said he had been dining in Devonshire Place the evening before and he passed the house in Chapel Street, and that it looked very dirty—I said, "Have you thought matters over? Is there no other way out of it?—he replied, "No; we must snuff her out. You get her to come to 72, Knightsbridge; we will talk about the letters and induce her to come downstairs. I will give her a push, chloroform her, and when all is over you are to go for Dr. Francis Blake, of Putney, and I will have her cremated within twenty-four hours, and I will give you the sum of £5,000"—he further said, "We will pour essence of peppermint between her teeth to take away the smell of the chloroform"—I said, "Have you told Dr. Blake about this?" and he said, "Yes, and Dr. Blake replied, 'I will not have anything to do with it. You must not have anything to

do with it, but you must get another man.' You must get Maloney to take her discharge and help us"—I said, "You must give me twenty-four hours to think the matter over, and I will give you an answer, yes or no"—he went without making any further appointment—a minute or two afterwards I went to Scotland Yard alone and saw Acting Superintendent Fox, getting there about 11.45 a.m., perhaps a little earlier than that; it was 11.45 a.m. when I saw Mr. Fox—I had an interview with him—I saw another officer who took my statement down—I left with Sergeants Ball and Fowler shortly after 12, and went to 5, Regent Street, with them, remaining in their company till we got to Marlborough Street Police Court—on arriving there, I should think about 1.30 p.m., we found the Magistrate had adjourned and we waited until he sat again—the information which had been prepared and signed by me at Scotland Yard was laid before him and I swore to it—this was before 2 p.m., before the public had come back into Court—the Magistrate intimated that a warrant would be granted and we waited till it was made out—I went back to the office, arriving there about 2.30 p.m.—I was told that the prisoner had telephoned me when I arrived at the office from Scotland Yard with the officers before going to Marlborough Street—I had a communication with the prisoner on the telephone, when he said, "Send me in your account. I am going to the country. I will see the solicitor about the letters"—I asked him to come and see me at 5 p.m.—then I went to Marlborough Street—on coming back from Marlborough Street I did not have any further telephonic communication from him—he did not come at 5 p.m.—this bottle (Produced) is very like the one the prisoner showed to me, and this is the case (Produced) in which it was—from the time that the prisoner spoke to me in my private room on August 17th until I got to Scotland Yard after he left, I had no communication with either Drummond or McKenna.

Cross-examined. I am employed to find and search out matters and I am paid so much a day per man, which is the ordinary rule—I do not think it is to our interest to keep the inquiry going as long as possible; we like to finish our inquiries as soon as we possibly can; we are looking to future recommendation—we are never paid by results or by a lump sum; this bonus was quite an unusual thing; we did not ask for it—Mr. Sweeney had been at Scotland Yard; he came to me at the beginning of last year, two or three months after he left there—I suggested to the prisoner drawing up the agreement—I left out about the settlement of disputes, but he corrected it afterwards—he did not take it away or make a copy of it—he came back and said he would like to make one or two alterations, and I at once handed it to him—we should require to employ men to find out Mrs. Watt's mode of living—I quite understood that his desire at that time was to have a friendly settlement of all the disputes—when asking him to sign it I did not say it was the usual agreement, nor did Mr. Sweeney, who was there at the time, say so to my knowledge—Mr. Sweeney went away directly afterwards to the country, where he had a case—I did not telephone to the prisoner on that same day after he had signed the agreement that I had heard of or knew that there was a board

outside 15, Chapel Street, saying that it was to let to my knowledge—it is absolutely impossible for me to say whether I did do so; I have no recollection of it—how I knew about the board was that Mr. Watt told me—I will not swear I did not, because I cannot recollect it at this length of time; to the best of my belief I did not—I telephoned to him that Mrs. Watt was going to Ostend, and he asked me to come and see him the next morning—he did not say that he did not believe it and give me forty-eight hours to finish my inquiries and negotiations, or the matter was ended, nor words to that effect—I swear I did not call upon him in the evening, nor did I have any conversation with him whatever—there was a conversation on the 12th at my office about Ostend; he did not say he did not believe my story about Mrs. Watt going to Ostend; he said he did not think it very likely—he did not know more than I did except that I reported to him that she was going to Ostend—I said that I would want two men to follow her if she went—I asked him how long she generally stayed away and he said, "Two months," and wanted to know what the cost would be—I said, "Somewhere about £250 if she stayed two months"—I did not say I wanted £250 for the men to follow her to Ostend—he did not reply that his solicitor, Mr. Bicknell, had advised him to pay me only out-of-pocket expenses; he never mentioned Mr. Bicknell's name to me—he did not say that he would give me £10 for my out-of-pocket expenses and that I could either take that or go about my business, nor did he say that to me when he gave me the £10 on the 11th—he did not say either on the 12th or the 14th that he would give me forty-eight hours to make some progress with my negotiations or I could go about my business; he never used such words to me on any occasion—he did not name a time within which I was to do something tangible or go about my business—at no time did he express dissatisfaction with my conduct in the matter—we did not look upon the agreement as a very valuable business; we get so much of it—I suggest that with that document in my possession on the 12th I suggested to the prisoner that he could take his business away if he was not satisfied with what we were doing—it was not in consequence of his having complained that I said that—I did not look upon his saying that we really must do something as a complaint—when we are instructed we usually have matters left in our hands to deal with and we do the best we can for our clients—Mrs. Watt never went to Ostend to my knowledge—I did not tell the prisoner who it was that told me she was going—I did not say to him on August 14th that I had now discovered that she was not going to Ostend, but was going on a motor trip; I am quite sure I never said anything about a motor trip to him—I never told him that I had discovered she was not going to Ostend—I did not tell him on the 14th that I had been all over the house with Mrs. Watt; I told him I had been all over the house with Maloney—I got in as an intending tenant—I did not tell him that I was very hopeful of success in my mission after having seen Mrs. Watt; I said I was not very hopeful—I certainly did not tell him that I thought I had been so successful that had I had the agreement I could have induced her to sign it—there was nothing said

about the agreement that day—on no date was anything said between the prisoner and myself about an agreement for Mrs. Watt to sign—he did not produce to me a document which he had drawn up and wanted me to get Mrs. Watt to sign, nor did he tell me the terms of it—I understood what he was proposing was that Mrs. Watt should agree to accept £600 a year from the present time in lieu of her reversionary interest under this deed, but he never said anything to me about it—I understood he wanted everything settled—I got the idea that the prisoner was going to offer Mrs. Watt £600 a year from Mrs. Watt herself, and she said she would have nothing whatever to do with it—when he gave me the £10 he said, "You will want some money to go on with"; he volunteered it without any request from me—Mrs. Watt never complained of having been assaulted by the prisoner—I did not tell the prisoner on the 15th that I had just come from Chapel Street, where I had had another interview with Mrs. Watt—I did not tell him that I had had a conversation with her regarding their differences and that I thought I would succeed in time—I never led him to believe that I had any hope of success; I led him to believe it was a very difficult matter owing to Mrs. Watt having said that she would have nothing to do with the £600 a year he had offered her—on that day he did not say that he did not believe a word of my stories about her movements; or that he had no confidence whatever in my statements, and as I had nothing tangible to report he did not wish to see me again—he did not open a desk for the purpose of showing me the document he wanted Mrs. Watt to sign—I never saw any such document—I think the desk was in fact open—I did not take up the wooden bottle and say, "What is this?" and he did not say, "That is chloroform which Lady Violet or I have used for some medical purposes"—I had certainly not up to that date led him to believe that I was a person prepared to carry out murders at short notice, nor have I advertised that; I never advertise at all—I certainly say that, without ascertaining what sort of person I was, he suddenly proposed that I should help him in murdering Mrs. Watt—I did not wait long enough to inform Mrs. Watt or the authorities—I did not on the 16th telephone to him that I had important information to give him and ask him to call upon me—I think it was on the 17th that I asked him whether he had said anything to Dr. Blake; it was the last part of the conversation that he told me Dr. Blake had refused to have anything to do with it—in the same conversation he told me to go to Dr. Blake, but admitted nevertheless when I asked him, that Dr. Blake had said he would have nothing whatever to do with it—when he called upon me on the 17th he did not say, "Have you anything to report?" nor words to that effect; nor did he say, "As far as you are concerned, I suppose you can do nothing further in the matter"—I did not make any reference to a motor-car in reference to Mrs. Watt, nor did the prisoner say, after some discussion. "I have no faith in you at all, and your statements are the purest rubbish," and I did not reply, "Very well, you shall have your bill made out"—nothing was said about my bill whilst he was talking to me—he did not leave the room very angry—up to that time he never said if he was pleased

or otherwise; he certainly did appear quite satisfied with what I was doing for him—I did not make a note of the conversation—I am quite certain he used the expression that the curtains seemed very dirty when he had passed Chapel Street—He left a few minutes' after 11—when I returned to the office from Scotland Yard it would be somewhere about 1 p.m.—my clerk then informed me that the prisoner had telephoned; he may have telephoned at 11.45 a.m., but I do not know—my clerk did not give me any message; he simply said the prisoner had rung me up—when the prisoner telephoned me I understood he was making an end of all the business, as he was going into the country, and for no other reason—Drummond has not been well for a long time; he has been away from the office about six weeks—I gave instructions to McKenna to take written notes of what he had heard that he thought important—I did say at the Police Court, "McKenna had no instructions to make a report, but he had a report ready when I came, back"—there is a difference between notes and a report; McKenna put his notes in the form' of a full report—I take it that a note is a record of something that took place at a time and a report would be made up from those notes afterwards—McKenna made the report on his own initiative—I never saw the notes which he made, only the report—I do not know if the notes are in existence—I did not instruct Drummond to make notes—from first to last I never asked the prisoner for money on account of this business—I had been engaged in this kind of work ten to eleven years, starting by myself as "H. Marshall"—in 1900 I sold my business to a limited company—I had 500 shares, the subscribed capital of the company being £1,000, subscribed by a man named Hanmar, a great friend of mine, and a very wealthy man—he had the particulars of the business from me and he was very glad to subscribe to it—the object of the company was to carry on the various objects mentioned in the Articles of Association, such as financial business, detective work, collection of debts and so on—lending money may have been in the Articles—three years afterwards it went into voluntary liquidation with no debts, the object being that I wanted the thing to be carried on under my own name and Mr. Sweeney's—Mr. Sweeney preferred not to come in when it was a company—Mr. Hanmar has still got his £1,000 in the business; he did not ask for it back—October, 1904, may have been the date of the liquidation—Mr. Sweeney was not in partnership with me in the first place; alter the liquidation he went into partnership with me—I did not tell the prisoner that Mrs. Watt had telegraphed me in the name of Kerrlane, Hanger Lane, Ealing—Kerrlane is the name of the lady I am living with at Hanger Lane, Ealing—I did not swear at the Police Court that she was my wife—I did not swear, "It was in 1896 or 1897 that the divorce in my own case was made absolute"—I swore that it was not made absolute—my deposition was read over to me and I signed it—I did not swear that in spite of its being on my deposition; the word "not" must have been left out and unnoticed by me when I signed the deposition—I said at the Police Court, "My former wife has died"—I swear I do not know that she is alive now—I also said, "And I am living with my second wife and not

free to marry. The intervention of the Queen's Proctor was successful but my wife afterwards died"—I have not seen her for a very long time—I saw her last in the beginning of last year—the ground for my swearing my wife had died was an anonymous communication I received, saying that she was dead, at the beginning of this year, which I tried to verify—I did not keep it—I showed it to no one—I made all the inquiries I could think of, but I could not trace her—I believe she has been living ever since with the man on whose account I obtained the decree nisi, but I do not. know of my own knowledge—I have seen that man and conversed with him on the subject of my wife—I have asked to see her, but I have not seen her—he has not told me that she is alive, nor has he told me she is dead; I have never asked him—it was only the other day that I saw him—I did ask him whether she was alive and he told me she was alive and living with him—when I said that I did not know that she was alive, I meant of my own knowledge; I have not seen her—I believe she is alive from what you have just said—I asked this man one simple question: whether she was alive or dead, and he did not answer me—I asked him if she was alive, could I see her, and he did not answer—I did not ask him whether she had been subpoenaed to appear here—that is my wife (Pointing); I do not know where she has been living—I was not living in adultery at the time I obtained this decree nisi from my wife—the Queen's Proctor intervened on the ground that I was living with a Mrs. Williamson, and the Court was satisfied that that was true—Mrs. Williamson was the widow of a clergyman and possessed of considerable property—I became acquainted with her before January, 1899; I was carrying on this business at Regent Street at the time—she was brought to me by a friend to make some inquiries with regard to her property—soon after I promised her marriage in the event of my getting my divorce—I did not live with her on the strength of that promise—after I failed in the divorce I lived with her at 35, Lad-broke Gardens, but never before—I do not remember receiving any notice that the Queen's Proctor was going to intervene—I did not get it until the last moment, when we were in Court for the purpose of the decree absolute—I did not fight the case, because I did not want to bring this lady's name in—I cannot tell you what the Queen's Proctor alleged against me—I may have instructed a solicitor to write to the Queen's Proctor saying I did not intend to have the decree made absolute; it is such a long time ago that I do not remember—I did not know that the allegation was that at the time the decree nisi was obtained I was living in adultery with this lady—I knew that the charge was adultery, but I did not know the time—I lived openly with Mrs. Williamson after the decree nisi was rescinded—I did not live with her secretly or in any way before—she came down to live with me at Torrington; I did not induce her to—at my inducement she purchased two houses called "The Warren" and "The Lodge"—she provided some of the money for it—I provided £300 or £400—the conveyances were taken in my own name—I had a very good business in Marlborough Street as my livelihood—it is quite right that I had no means of livelihood then; I had been very ill from fever—I was living on this lady until I could get something to do—I opened a banking account

in my own name with some of her money—I has none of my own then—I did not induce her to raise money for my benefit—I know she did raise some money—I think in 1900, soon after, she was obliged to sell "The Warren" in order to secure an overdraft at the bank—I think I had left by June 30th, 1900, when the account was closed with a debit balance—I cannot recollect whether I knew at the time I left that the account was overdrawn—I transferred everything back to Mrs. Williamson, deeds and conveyances—this is a cheque given to me by her for £2,000 to invest (Produced)—I invested it in a theatrical company—the money was lost—she gave me a further cheque for £200 on May 5th, 1899, to pay some accounts of hers in connection with the estate—she made the cheque out to me because there were a great many accounts to be settled up in reference to her late husband's debts—I swear it was used for her purposes, and not mine—I left in the middle of 1900, July or August—I did not leave in consequence of her discovering that I was carrying on an intrigue or intrigues with other women while I was living with her—she did accuse me of it, but I was not doing so—she did discover some letters, but they were old ones—she did not turn me out, nor request me to go—I thought I had much rather go—I left everything behind; I did not want to take anything with me—I did not leave her practically denuded of all her property—I had not had it; she had spent a considerable sum, but not for my benefit—I was not living on-her; I had certain moneys of my own—her solicitors were Grossman, Pritchard & Co., and I placed myself in communication with them to restore the property to her—I swear I went to see them—to the best of my belief I went voluntarily to them for the purpose of offering to restore this property to her, but it is a long time ago, and I suffered from brain fever; I will not swear to it—the solicitors called upon me to assign over to her the conveyances of "The Warren" and "The Lodge"—I do not recollect pledging one of these properties for the purpose of borrowing money; I may have—now you have mentioned the Standard Assurance Co., I remember having borrowed £175 from them—I believe Mrs. Williamson had to pay that amount—subject to that I reconveyed it—I do not recollect refusing to reconvey this property to her, nor demanding a sum of £250—they gave me voluntarily £250—Mr. Pritchard told me if I reconveyed he would give me £250; I had given up my business in Marlborough Street—he gave it to me out of the estate—I will not swear that I did not refuse £50 and say I would take nothing else than £250, because I do not recollect it—I do not recollect calling at their office on September 18th, 1900, and stating that I would go down to Torrington and create a disturbance unless arrangements were come to forthwith for the payment of this money; I cannot swear anything, but I am perfectly certain it did not take place—I did not go on to say that under any circumstances I would take steps to have the guardian-ship of the children changed—Mrs. Williamson had children of her own by her first husband, of whom she was guardian under his will—I never said that unless she paid me this money I would make public her relations with me and so deprive her of the guardianship of these children—nothing to my recollection, was said about the guardianship of the children—I

know that she had to pay me £250 in order to get her property reconveyed to her—I did not have £4,000 or £5,000 out of her—I do not recollect having some of her securities in my name besides the deeds—I did not threaten the solicitors about the guardianship of the children, nor did I tell them I knew something that would deprive her of her guardian-ship—I cannot explain anything that Mr. Pritchard wrote to Mrs. Williamson (Extract of letter from Mr. Pritchard to Mrs. Williamson read: "As regards the guardianship, I can only say if he can prove what he says he can, you would be deprived of the guardianship as a matter of course, and I think the fact of your association with him would of itself be sufficient")—I did not tell the solicitors that I could prove something that would deprive her of the guardianship—("It is mainly to your interest, as I said before, to come to some amicable arrangement. If you do not there will be a public scandal")—I cannot explain that; I was not threatening to make a public scandal—I received this letter on September 22nd, 1900, from Mr. Pritchard (Stating that Mrs. Williamson was almost without means, but that she would, upon his (Marshall) signing the document making over the houses to her, authorise him to give him (Marshall) a cheque for £50, and, should the houses sell at the amount anticipated, she would be willing to give him a further sum, making up the amount he (Marshall) mentioned")—I see that in the first place she tried to induce me to accept £50; I should not have recollected it if you had not read that letter—I never mentioned any amount—I do not know that I ever wrote to tell him that I had not done so—I cannot give any explanation of his writing that letter to me—I think if you read a letter from him to me afterwards it would put a very different complexion on your questions to me; I have lost it—it is in Mr. Pritchard's letter-book—I cannot recollect the date of it.

Friday, December 15th.

H. A. MARSHALL (Further cross-examined), I obtained a sum of £350 from Mrs. Williamson for the purpose of lending it to a Mrs. Baghouse—when the question of the settlement of all matters between me and Mrs. Williamson arose I said that I did not know where Mrs. Baghouse was to be found; I did not know then—I do not recollect that at that time I gave an undertaking to procure repayment of that sum from Mrs. Baghouse and to pay it over to Mrs. Williamson—possibly when I received the £250 I signed an undertaking beginning in these words: "I will use my best endeavours to procure payment of the £350 due by Mrs. Baghouse and to pay same over to Mrs. Williamson or her solicitor"—I never repaid that or any portion of it; I have not had it from Mrs. Baghouse—I know where she is now; I know where she was eighteen months ago; I do not know at the present moment—the last address I knew her at was in Ealing; I think it was Castle House, Castle Hill—I may have at the time of the settlement signed a letter to be handed to Mrs. Williamson withdrawing any charges of immorality or misconduct against her; I probably did—I was not in pecuniary difficulties in 1904 and up to the beginning of 1905, and a number of bankruptcy notices were not served

against me to my recollection—I know there was a dispute with Messrs. Pedley & Mortimer about the rent of some offices at Fleet Street, but I do not remember a bankruptcy notice, but I will not swear to it—it resulted in proceedings against me—there was certainly not a bankruptcy notice served against me by Frederick James Marshall for £321 19a. 9d. I do not know anybody of that name—there was a bankruptcy notice nerved on me by Cohen & Co. for £59. but it was never proceeded with—I know the Pot Pourri, Limited, threatened a bankruptcy notice against me, but I do not remember having one—this was all in 1903 or 1904—I am not often in communication with the police I know a great number of the police personally, but not before Mr. Sweeney came to me—I never saw Inspector Hayter until I saw him at Marlborough Street—with regard to what I said yesterday about Mr. Watt telling me of his offer of £600 a year, the first conversation that arose about the £600 and giving up the settlement of 1901 came from Mrs. Watt on Monday, August 14th, and that same evening I reported to the prisoner that conversation; it was then that he told me that he was prepared to give her £600 a year if she would give up the settlement—when I said yesterday, "He never said anything to me about it," I took the question as being previous to Mrs. Watt having spoken to me about the £600.

Re-examined. I say in my deposition, "I did not tell the defendant that I had divorced my wife and that the King's Proctor had intervened; I never spoke to him about that. It is true that I divorced my wife and that the King's Proctor did intervene"—I and my wife parted fifteen years ago—a little boy I had of six years of age died and on the boy's death bed, when I was very much cut up, she confessed to me that the child was not mine, and told me who the father was—then I left—I had a daughter by the marriage also, who is with me now—my wife went to live with a Mr. Charles Cary; he was not the man who seduced my wife—neither written nor verbally did Mr. Pritchard make any charge against me of demanding £250 or that I would make a scandal—there is another letter, which was the final one from Mr. Pritchard, which I have lost; I am afraid I cannot say the contents, but I know from my point of view it was very satisfactory—the theatrical scheme I invested the £2,000 in was Pot Pourri, Limited, at the Avenue Theatre—it was invested in my name—I took shares—£1,100 was invested in that way and the rest Mrs. Williamson spent on jewellery from a Mr. Joseph, a jeweller in Westbourne Grove, which she kept—I think the banking account was first of all started at Bideford and transferred from Bideford to Torrington—I cannot say whether at Torrington I paid in money of my own or at Bideford; I certainly did at one of those places—I paid in one sum of £150 at Bideford; I cannot recollect the other sums; I left all my papers behind and I had not a chance of referring to the bank books or anything else—when the £250 was paid to me by Messrs. Crossman, Pritchard & Co. I had made no threats; I believe I made a claim for it—I was brought in contact with Mr. Sweeney over a case that I did for the Government at Gibraltar in connection with certain insurance frauds—prior to August last I had never heard of Thomas Worley or James Shuttle

—I had certainly not either from Sweeney or from any other person connected with Scotland Yard learnt the contents of any documents which were at Scotland Yard prior to August.

By the COURT. I employed two men to watch Mrs. Watt for five or six days—I did not send in any bill to the prisoner—he would not owe me much, having paid me £10—we were to get what we could in the way of being able to throw stones at Mrs. Watt and at the same time to try and negotiate with her—I did not connect the two, nor did the prisoner—he did not say that watching her mode of life would help him to bring about a settlement—I do not know how they were to work together—I do not suggest that the prisoner knew I had gone to Scotland Yard when he telephoned to my clerk—tins is one of the cheques which were drawn to pay Mr. Joseph for the jewellery for £575, but further amounts than this were paid.

JOSEPH MCKENNA . I have lived at 4, Millard Road, Stoke Newington, but I now live at 74, North Grove, Dalston—I am an assistant to Messrs. Sweeney & Marshall—I have been a police officer, and, when I retired, a sergeant in the Metropolitan Police for some twenty-five years—I entered the employ of Messrs. Sweeney & Marshall in July of last year—on the morning of August 17th Mr. Marshall gave me some instructions, Drummond, a fellow employee, being present at the time—at 11 a.m. I saw the prisoner at the office; he was shown into Mr. Marshall's room—I then called to Drummond and went to the door of the room and listened to the conversation from within—I heard the prisoner say, "I was dining at Buckingham Gate last night, and I passed by the house twice; it looks very dull"—he mentioned the address of the house as 15, Chapel Street—Mr. Marshall said, "I have been thinking over what you said to me. Is there no other way out of it, Mr. Watt?" and the prisoner said, "No, no other way, only to snuff her out"—Mr. Marshall said, "How do you propose to do it?" and the prisoner said, "You induce her to come up to my house; we can talk over the post cards. You can help me get her downstairs. I can do the job with the chloroform. When all is over we can send for Dr. Blake, who will certify death from heart disease, and then I shall give you £5,000"—Mr. Marshall said, "Have you spoken to Dr. Blake about this, Mr. Watt?" and the prisoner said, "Yes, I have, but he says that he cannot do it and that I must not do it; I must not do it; I must get a strange man. You can get Maloney to take her discharge and come to my house, and she can assist us in the matter"—Mr. Marshall then said. "Very well, Mr. Watt, give me twenty-four hours to think it over"—I heard a movement inside and we both of us came from the door very quickly—shortly after, the prisoner came out and left the offices—Mr. Marshall came out almost immediately afterwards—coming out he said to the office boy, "I am going to Scotland Yard"—he did not say a word to me with reference to what had taken place in the room, or to Drummond either—after he left I sat down and made notes of what I had heard—I told Drummond to go into another room [MR. AVORY objected that what the witness said to Drummond was inadmissible, but the COURT held it was admissible, since it was a command]

—I told him to make his own notes independently of mine of what he had heard, and he went—Mr. Marshall came back to the office with Sergeants Fowler and Ball—up to the time of their return I had had no communication with Drummond—I, Marshall and the two sergeant then went to Marlborough Street and an information was prepared to which I swore—my notes that I had made were taken as the sworn information—they were kept at the Police Court.

Cross-examined. I placed myself in a standing-up position against the door, and I saw Drummond go down on his knees to listen at the bottom of the door—neither of us have ever been asked to do this sort of thing before—I made notes in my own room just adjoining—I made no rough notes at all at the door—Mr. Marshall could not have said that I made out notes which have been destroyed or which were lost and that I only had a report—Drummond made notes also, but not at the door—I saw him writing it and I saw it there after he left—I did not see what became of it when Sergeant Fowler came; I left almost immediately with them—Drummond did not go to Marlborough Street—I said at the Police Court, "Drummond made out one. Drummond handed his written report to Sergeant Fowler. I saw Drummond's report lying on the desk, but did not read it"—it must have been a week later that Drummond handed that report to Sergeant Fowler; it was not that morning—I did not mean to convey that he handed it to Sergeant Fowler that morning—I heard the prisoner getting off his chair, so I hurriedly went away from the door—a minute might have elapsed from the time I left the door before he came out; more conversation had taken place, no doubt, because I could hear talking, but I could not understand it, having come away from the door—the last thing I heard was, "Well, give me twenty-four hours to think it over"—I am quite sure that I heard "Dr, Blake" and no Christian name—I did not hear any expression about getting Mrs. Watt cremated—I think I must say I omitted to put in that I heard about pouring essence of peppermint between her teeth; it occurs to me that I did hear that—I will rot swear I heard it; I have some slight recollection that it was said; I want to be as careful as I can—I have read in the papers that the prisoner did say that, but I do not wish to swear to it myself—there is not a word about it either in my evidence at the Police Court, or here, nor about giving her a push—I did not hear anything about the curtains looking dirty—the prisoner was there about five minutes—after leaving the police I went to Slater's, being with them a year and eight months; I left when the trouble commenced, or was on—I cannot swear whether I went downstairs between the time of the prisoner going away and Mr. Marshall coming back with Fowler and Ball—I was there when they came back—if I had gone out, I had returned—the prisoner came at a minute or two to 11—I did not go out at the same time as Mr. Marshall—I cannot remember whether I went out afterwards—soon after 11 I generally go out to have a little refreshment, but I do not remember—I received a telephone message from the prisoner about 12, or after—I cannot say the time—it was to the effect that we were to send in our account, as he was going into the country—he asked me if Mr. Marshall was there—I said, "No," and he said, "When

he comes back tell him to send in his bill at once, as I am going away in the country this afternoon"—the office is on the second floor—the prisoner had gone down the stairs before Mr. Marshall came out of the room.

Re-examined. The prisoner left about 11.5, and Mr. Marshall came out one or two minutes afterwards in just enough time for the prisoner to get down the stairs—I cannot say whether the prisoner went away in a cab or walked—I do not know whether he telephoned from home or some-where else—it would be about noon when he telephoned; that is as near as I can fix it.

(Drummond's deposition, read): Henry Drummond, on oath, saith as follows:—"Of 96, Hollis Street, Dalston, clerk, employed by Messrs. Sweeney & Marshall, 5, Regent Street. I know the firm was engaged on some inquiries of defendant, whom I knew at the office as "the Captain." On the morning of August 17th Marshall gave me certain instructions. Later on that morning defendant came to the office. He got there about 11 a.m. He was shown into Mr. Marshall's room. The door was shut. I laid on the floor and listened beneath the door. McKenna stood at the door and listened. I heard defendant commence the conversation by saying that he had been dining out at Buckingham Gate and that he had passed by the front of the house twice and the front looked very dull and dirty. Marshall said, 'I have been thinking over what you have said; don't you think there is some way out of it?' Mr. Watt said, 'The only way is to snuff her out.' Mr. Marshall asked Mr. Watt in what way he proposed to do it. Mr. Watt said, 'You must induce her to my house; I will speak to her about some post cards. You can then help her to the room and I will finish the job with some chloroform on a pocket handkerchief.' Mr. Watt also stated that he could then call in Dr. Blake. Mr. Marshall asked Mr. Watt if he mentioned the matter to Dr. Blake before and Mr. Watt said, "Yes, but the doctor said neither I nor he (the doctor) must do it; it must be done by some other man. He then said, 'When all is over I will pay you £5,000. He said Mr. Marshall must get Miss Maloney to take her discharge and get her to my house and she can assist us. Mr. Marshall said, 'Very well, you must give me twenty-four hours' notice to think this over.' That is all I heard. I thought the conversation then ended and I moved from the door, so did McKenna. I moved to a separate room and wrote out my statement; I had been instructed by Mr. McKenna to make notes. I did not see either defendant or Mr. Marshall leave. Later on two police officers came to the office, with Marshall, about 2 p.m., I believe. I had finished my notes. McKenna did not see it; Marshall did not see it until the Friday. I handed it to the police officers on Saturday when they came for it. Cross-examined. I did not give my report to the police officers on Thursday because I was not asked for it. I did not leave it lying on my desk; McKenna could not see it. If he said he did, that is not accurate; I carried it in my pocket until the Saturday. Marshall did not ask me for my report when he returned; I told him I had made one. This case was in Court on Friday before I produced my report. I had seen and read the

case in the newspapers before I produced my report. I have been with Marshall since fourteen years of age. I am clerk. I am employed on 'Confidential Inquiries' when we are a bit busy and pushed. I listened at the door, lying flat on my stomach. This is the first time I have been so employed; we have never had a case like this before in the office. I did not at any time see McKenna's report and have not seen it now. Marshall told me that defendant had made a proposition, but did not tell me what it was. Re-examined. My report was ready at 2 p.m. on the Thursday and I handed it to the police the first time they asked me on the Saturday. (Signed) H. Drummond."

MARY FRANCES MALONEY . I am still employed by Mrs. Watt as a parlour-maid at 15, Chapel Street—in August there was a notice up at the house that it was to let, furnished or unfurnished—Marshall came on Monday, August 14th, and wished to be shown over the house and I showed him over—afterwards he saw Mrs. Watt and had a conversation with her, which I did not hear—I showed him into where she was—between 3 and 4 p.m. on August 2nd the' prisoner came when Mrs. Watt was not at home—he asked for her, and I said she was out, but I expected she would be back by 7 that evening—he returned at 7 p.m., when Mrs. Watt had just come in—he saw her—I did not hear what they said—I should think the interview between them lasted twenty or thirty minutes—between 9 and 10 a.m. on August 4th he called again—I did not let him in; I saw him in the dining-room—I was shut out at the back and he opened the window for me—Mrs. Watt was informed that he was there, waiting to see her and she came down immediately and saw him—they were together about fifteen minutes; it may be more—I went upstairs and left them in the morning-room—he came upstairs, calling, "Mary! Mary! they are, going to get the police to put me out"—I had just come out of Mrs. Watt's bedroom and kept the handle of the door in my hand—he asked me if that was Mrs. Watt's bedroom, and I said, "Yes"—I kept my hand on the handle of the door and he went down again, I following him—he passed along the hall first and then he went into the dining-room or the morning-room; I cannot say which now—Mrs. Watt had left the house then—I followed the prisoner into the morning-room—I cannot tell you the conversation between us, because it was not very nice—he made mention of his wife, not in a nice way—in the course of the conversation he said that he was a bit of a pugilist and he could knock Mrs. Watt out in ten seconds; I cannot remember exactly what he did say—he said that she had been turned from Victoria station and he asked me about her health and I said her health was all right—he said he would have her in Pentonville in a short time—I cannot remember any more—he had a paper in his hand and he purported to read to me the contents of it—I said to him that it was a pity that they did not come to some agreement and he said, "Yes, it is a pity, but it is her fault"—he said she would not settle about this affair; I did not know what the affair was—he said if she settled it, he would allow her—600 a year—he did not say what the affair was, but I had an idea what he meant—I had never seen him until I saw him on

August 2nd—he said if I had any influence with that woman would I try and use it in getting her to try and settle—he said that he would advise me to leave the house, as he meant to make it hot for Mrs. Watt—he was there some time when the telephone bell rang—before that happened Mrs. Watt returned to the front door and told me to remain in the room with the prisoner; she had no hat on—she may have been twenty minutes gone; I did not see her go out—she did not come in; she went across to the public library again in Chapel Street—a few minutes after the telephone bell rang, and I answered it and found that it was Mrs. Watt's solicitor, who asked me if Mrs. Watt was there—I said, "No, but Mr. Watt is here. Do you want to speak to him?"—he said, "Yes, send Mr. Watt to the telephone"—I handed the receiver to the prisoner—at first he refused to take it—he asked me who was there and I told him—after a bit he took it from me and he held a conversation through the telephone—I think it was Mr. O'Malley at the other end—I heard what the prisoner said—after the conversation was over he had a few seconds' conversation with me, and he walked up and down the hall—he stayed a few minutes at the front door and after a bit went away—I saw nothing more of him until at Marlborough Street—his manner that morning was very excited.

Cross-examined. I did not know there had been a violent scene between them on August 4th, because I went upstairs—I did not hear loud voices, because I was two storeys above—when I saw the prisoner afterwards he said that she had pushed him, and he appeared very excited and angry I—I saw in the papers that he applied at the Police Court for a summons for assault—I remember now that the prisoner never told me she had pushed him; I learnt of that from the papers—he called me "Mary" because he heard Mrs. Watt calling me "Mary"—I am generally called "Mary" in the house—I certainly do not expect to be called "Miss Maloney"; not in my position, anyway—as far as I know, when the prisoner saw Mrs. Watt at 7 p.m. on August 2nd it was a perfectly friendly meeting—he went away quietly—the paper that he had in his hand on August 4th was like that (Notepaper produced)—I did not handle it; he read it to me; at least, he made an attempt to read it; he read part of it, I believe—I would recognise it if I saw the words of it—this is not what he read to me (Paper produced)—he never said anything about 1901—he said something about paving Mrs. Watt £600 a year, but not for life—I understood that was to settle the affair—I did not see him try to assault her—there is no truth in the suggestion that I prevented it—I never came in at the door until Mrs. Watt had left on the morning of the 4th.

JOHN FRENCH BLAKE . I am a registered medical practitioner, of Wurther Road, Putney—I have known the prisoner about three years—he has never been a patient of mine, although I attended him on two occasions for his usual medical attendant—I have attended Lady Violet Beauchamp for two or three years, the last time being July 17th and the first March 30th, 1903—never at any time have I prescribed chloroform for her, or essence of peppermint—I remember seeing the prisoner on July 17th at 72, Knightsbridge, where Lady Violet was living—I gave him some chloroform in the winter of last year, I think it was March; he

called and asked me to let him have a little for experimental purposes; he did not say what they were—I gave him this bottle in this case—as far as I can judge, it contains just about the quantity that I gave him, about two ounces—it was a gift on my part—I never gave him any other but that—this bottle contains chloroform, and this one evidently essence of pepper-mint—I saw these bottles before the Magistrate—chloroform is very dif fusible and gives off an unmistakable smell—the effect of the essence of peppermint would be to drown to a certain extent the smell of the chloroform—essence of peppermint also has an unmistakable odour.

Cross-examined. A very great number of people keep essence of pepper-mint in the house—Lady Violet suffered frequently from neuralgia—she herself, or the prisoner, told me that she used chloroform on that account—I know the room called the library on the ground floor, and I have always seen Lady Violet there—I did not notice whether the desk was generally open; I think it was usually closed—I never saw my bottle of chloroform on that desk; after I handed it to the prisoner I never saw it again until at the Police Court—the prisoner never saw me on the subject of my being called in to certify that Mrs. Watt had died from heart disease; I consider it to be very unjust; he had no justification whatever to anticipate that I should associate myself with such a thing—he never consulted me at all about it—there must be a certificate by at least two medical men before any body is cremated and also with an executor or some relative.

JOHN SWEENEY . I was at one time a detective-inspector in the Metropolitan Police, attached to Scotland Yard, leaving there on September 7th, 1903—I went into partnership with Marshall on January 1st, 1904—there was a company there—I started practically as a partner, and there was a formal partnership later—during the time I was with him I had no knowledge of the existence of any statements made by a man named Shuttle, in whatever name those statements were made—I learnt about them first from the newspaper on the morning after the proceedings at Marlborough Street Police Court.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was first introduced to me by Mr. Bicknell, a solicitor, and it was I with whom he first made arrangements for employing my firm on August 9th—I had known him by sight as a Member of Parliament—he may have known me as an officer of police; he said he did—I went away on business on August 11th for over a week and I saw nothing more of him after I met him at the office on August 11th—I introduced him to Marshall on August 9th—I was present when the agreement was signed—the prisoner went away and came back again to make some alterations, but I was not there then—Marshall drew it up.

T. B. HOUSTON (Further cross-examined). The decree filed in Marshall's case is dated December 20th, 1899—these are the allegations made by the Queen's Proctor (Alleging petitioner's adultery in June, July August, September, October and November, 1899, with Mrs. Williamson, find mentioning the various places at which the adultery had been committed)—the decree nisi was June 12th, 1900.

H. FOWLER (Recalled). I was at Scotland Yard on August 17th, when I saw Marshall about 12 a.m.—as a matter of fact, he had been there some time before—I went into Mr. Fox's room and there was a conversation between the there of us—I, with Sergeant Ball and Marshall, then went to 5, Regent Street, starting from Scotland Yard about 12.30 or 12.40 p.m., arriving there just before 1 p.m.; I should think it is about ten minutes' walk—we were there in the office about five or six minutes—if we had started from Scotland Yard at 12.30 p.m. we should have arrived in Regent Street at 12.40, and if we started at 12.40 we should have arrived at 12.50—I saw McKenna, who handed a statement to me which was incorporated into the information at Marlborough Street—I did not get any statement or notes on that visit from Drummond; I got that on the 19th, about 11 or 12 a.m.—we then proceeded straight to Marlborough Street Police Court, Marshall, McKenna, Sergeant Ball and myself—when we got there we found the Magistrate had risen and we waited until he sat again—the information of Marshall and McKenna was then put before him and a warrant was granted—about 5 p.m. that day I went to Knightsbridge, when I saw the prisoner—I stopped him and said, "We are police officers. I believe your name is Watt"—he said, "Yes" I said, "We hold a warrant for your arrest on a charge of attempting to procure one, Herbert Marshall, to commit a felony, namely, to murder your former wife"—he said, "At whose, instance is this?" and I said, "Mr. Marshall laid information before the Magistrate"—the notes I am reading from were made at the time—he said, "Ridiculous; perfectly ridiculous"—we then called a cab and conveyed him to Vine Street police station—on the way in the cab I read the warrant to him and he said, "It is absurd. If I had wanted to murder her I could have done so scores of times when she laid ill in my house. This all comes through my trying to settle matters with her. She has ruined my life and been a curse to me for years, and cost me thousands of pounds"—he was then charged at Vine Street police station, and when the charge was read over to him he said, "It is utterly untrue"—I then searched him, during which he said, "I call this d—scandalous to be treated like this on the word of a man like Marshall. I saw him this morning and we were alone. What corroboration has he got?"—I said, "I cannot answer you that," and he said, "I have paid him £10 and telephoned to him this afternoon to send in his bill"—about a minute before we left Marshall's office, somewhat before 1, some telephone communication took place—I only heard what Marshall said—he asked at my suggestion that the prisoner should be at the office at 5 p.m.—I have tried to listen through the doorway of Marshall's room when the door is closed and persons are sitting inside speaking in ordinary ones, and I find it is quite easy—it is a wooden partition with a door in the middle of it—I have got Drummond's statement that I received from him on the 19th.

Cross-examined. I met the prisoner outside his house at 72, Knightsbridge, just going in; he was coming from the direction of Brompton Road to his house when I first saw him—Marshall at the telephone said "All right," evidently in answer to something the prisoner said at the other end.

ALFRED BALL (Sergeant, New Scotland Yard). I accompanied Sergeant Fowler from Scotland Yard to 5, Regent Street, and then to the Police Court—I was afterwards with him when the prisoner was arrested, and I agree with his account of it—on the same evening of August 17th, at 9 p.m., I went with Sergeant Fowler to 72, Knightsbridge, the address the prisoner gave, and saw Lady Violet Beauchamp—she pointed out a roll top desk to me in the front room on the ground floor—with a key which Sergeant Fowler had found in the prisoner's possession I unlocked it and on the left-hand side I found this wooden case and on the partition on the right three other bottles—there was a bottle of glycerine which has no connection with this case—they were all three wrapped in two pieces of rag, of soft material.

Cross-examined. Lady Violet said, "Those are only two pieces of my old combinations"—when Sergeant Fowler unscrewed the case containing the chloroform and smelt it he said, "It smells something like camphor,' and she said, "That is what I use," but she said nothing in reference to the other three bottles—the prisoner did not say what the key was with which I unlocked the desk—seventeen keys were taken from the prisoner—Lady Violet said, "It is camphor; that is what I use"; I am quite sure of that—I did not ask her what the other bottle was, nor did I smell it.

Re-examined. Lady Violet said she had no key to the desk—there was some money in it when I opened it, and we allowed her to take what she wanted; she took a sovereign saying she had no key to the desk.

ALFRED EDWARD SUTTON . I am a clerk to Messrs. Gadsden & Treherne, of 28, Bedford Row, and I produce a deed of settlement, dated January 17th, 1901, between Hugh Watt, Julia Watt and George Frank Fergusson Gadsden.

GEORGE SAUNDERS . I am reporter for "The Times" at the West-minster Police Court—I was there on August 9th when an application was made by the prisoner for process for assault against Mrs. Watt—I took notes of what he said in making the application; I have not the absolute shorthand note, but I have a transcript made from the original note at the moment—it contains nothing but what actually took place in the Court. (Read: Stating that the prisoner had applied for a summons for an alleged assault by his wife, who had divorced him; that he had called at 15, Chapel Street, Portman Square, by appointment and suggested that five years' litigation should be ended by some arrangement; that Mrs. Watt was simply "furious" and having "stampeded" up and down the room caught him by the shoulders and pushed him against the door; that she had certainly asked him to go out, and in reply to Mr. Curtis Bennet's question stated he did not think she had a right to use force against him because he was still her husband, the decree not having been made absolute; and that she said she still had a right over him and "the other woman" had not, meaning by "the other woman," the lady to whom he was then married, all the facts having been explained to the Registrar when he married her; that Mr. Curtis Bennet said he was not justified in granting a summons, since he (the prisoner)

had been ordered to go)—the words in the inverted commas, "furious," "stampeded," and "the other woman," are the actual words he said.

JOHN LIGHTFOOT . I am now undergoing a sentence of twelve months hard labour at Wormwood Scrubbs, having been sentenced at this Court for perjury—I remember on August 25th last being in Hyde Park—I was sitting on a seat—two gentlemen came along and asked me for a match—one of them was the prisoner, whom I had seen before in Glasgow—they sat down on the seat beside me and began to talk about the weather, and then the prisoner said to me, "I think you are a Scotchman"—I said, "Yes, practically of Scotch descent"—I then said, "You are Mr. Watt; I think I have seen you in Glasgow"—he said, "Yes, I was Member there"—he introduced me to his friend as "Lord Kinloch, Equerry to the King," who had been Governor of Australia when Mr. Watt was in Australia—"Lord Kinloch" said that Mr. Watt was in trouble and gave me an idea that he was charged with inciting to murder—the prisoner then asked me if I would have a drink—we went to a public-house right across the Park—on the way "Lord Kinloch" said that Lady Violet Watt was a friend of the King and he ("Lord Kinloch") was instructed by the King to get the case hushed up—in the public-house drinks were ordered—the prisoner there said that "Lord Kinloch" was arranging to get the case hushed up and they wanted a witness to give evidence, to blind the public; words to that effect—they proposed to me that I should give evidence which they would write down for me—I thought it strange, but their names fascinated me—they asked me when I went back to Yorkshire would I write a letter up to Mr. Watt and he gave me his address on a piece of paper—this is it, "H. W. 72 Knightsbridge, S. W."—I asked them what sort of letter they wanted—they said they would write me one out for me to send up to them—a letter was written in the public-house by "Lord Kinloch" at the prisoner's dictation—the draft was handed to me—I asked why I could not send it up to his solicitor—the prisoner said he would take it along to his solicitor and get him to write me the next morning after it arrived—he further said that the solicitor would ask me for a statement and they proceeded to write it out and I copied it in the public-house—I took it away with me; also their draft, but I destroyed that and only kept one copy—I cannot quite think how it arose, but I had given them my proper name as John Lightfoot; but I said I did not fancy my name being glared about before the public in a case like this, and the prisoner suggested I should take another—I suggested Battle and he suggested Norman, as it would look more Scotch, he said, so that I passed as Norman Battle—I gave him my proper address in Yorkshire and he said that I had better have two addresses—he also suggested that I should get some cards printed in London with the name on of Norman Battle and the two addresses—"Lord Kinloch" went out for about fifteen minutes—the prisoner then started to tell me all about the case—he told me that Lady Violet had, I think, £2,500 damages to pay for slander; that the former Mrs. Watt was costing him a lot of money; that Lady Violet was very friendly with King Edward; that there were letters from Lord

Knollys, I think was the name; that "Lord Kinloch" was going to get the case hushed up with the Treasury; that it would be a good thing for me and that I was lucky to be in it—I do not think so now—he further said that they were going to arrange with the Treasury to get the case defended, but that at the present time it was in the hands of Mr. Palmer, but that they did not wish Mr. Palmer to know anything about my arrangement; that it would be arranged with Mr. Kennedy, the Magistrate, and someone would represent the Treasury, and would I meet Mr. Rufus Isaacs the next week—all this was said by the prisoner in the absence of the supposed "Lord Kinloch," who then returned and we three left and went back into the Park—they asked me if I had any place to go to—I said, "Not yet"—then "Lord Kinloch" said that he could give me lodgings for the night—in the public-house £18 10s. was given to me by "Lord Kinloch," who said that it was all he had on him, but that he would give me more and make it worth my while to give the evidence—we walked across the Park to Hyde Park Corner, where the prisoner left us, "Lord Kinloch" saying that he would be down at Mr. Watt's house shortly—I went with "Lord Kinloch" to one of the turnings off Edgware Road and went to a private house there—"Lord Kinloch" knocked at the door and said to the woman who opened it, "This is the gentleman I spoke to you about"—I was shown into a side room and "Lord Kinloch" went away—I left the house next morning early—on that day I went back to Yorkshire, where I have a poultry form—the following Sunday, August 27th, I wrote this letter ("Battle 1") the prisoner—I wrote it from the one given to me in the public-house—next day I received a reply from Mr. Freke Palmer (Read: Stating that the writer would be glad to receive a full statement of what the witness knew of the matter)—next day I replied (Read: Stating that the witness would on hearing, come up to London and give all details)—I had no reply to that, so wrote again—I received a reply from Mr. Palmer, and in consequence sent him this statement: "Rough statement per request. Norman Battle, of Edinburgh, saw Mr. Hugh Watt leave Mr. Marshall's office a week past Thursday, 17th August, about midday as I was waiting near by. About five minutes afterwards Marshall left the same doorway. Immediately afterwards McKenna rushed after him and joined him near me, when I overheard the following conversation take place:—McKenna: 'Be careful how you go about it. Mr. Marshall.' Marshall: 'Have no fear; nobody will believe Watt and I will taka it out of him. Fancy only £10.' McKenna: 'All right, see the thing through watt does no count for much; besides, look at the advertisement.' Marshall: 'Finish that statement you commenced yesterday, but be sure to keep a copy for me and Drummond or we are done.' McKenna: 'Do you want me to finish it now?' Marshall: 'Of course we must not make a (mess of this job or Watt will paralyse us. Back shortly. Marshall went on, McKenna back to office, and I thought I would keep the conversation in my mind, as it seemed so strange after seeing Mr. Watt pass by just previously. N. Battle, August 29th, 1905"—that statement was made from the one read out in the hotel, an exact copy—I received a

letter from the prisoner and came to London on the Friday—I cannot think of the date, September 15th, 16th, or 17th—I brought with me the little pencil memorandum of the address which he had given me—it was in my little bag—I had got all the letters with me, but rather than open my bag in the street I asked a policeman which was the right number of the prisoner's house—I then went to 72, Knightsbridge—they there said that Mr. Watt had gone out, but would be back at 4.30—it was then 3.30—I went back at 4.30—the prisoner opened the door himself and said, "I am afraid I have asked you up to London a bit too soon"—I had told him I had come in answer to his letter—he asked me inside and took me into a room on the left—he there introduced me to Lady Violet—he said he was expecting Rufus Isaacs, the King's counsellor, to come in any minute—at that time it was told me about the detectives having gone to arrest Mr. Watt and knocking Lady Violet down in the passage—Lady Violet received me all right, shook hands and told me she was pleased to see me—she mentioned the King's name and the Duke of Fife's, and that she was cousin to the Duke—whilst this conversation was going on the bell rang—the prisoner went to the door and returned with a gentleman who, he said, was Rufus Isaacs, but who I know now was not—I have since found out that he was Bernard Abrahams—I picked out his photograph in prison—I identify this photograph as his—I was introduced to him—the prisoner said that I was the party that had arranged to give evidence, or words to that effect—"Rufus Isaacs" said that he was arranging to get the case hushed up on behalf of the Treasury—it was said that I was to get £5,000 for giving evidence and that it would be a good thing for my wife and family—I said it would—they said they would give me a berth under the Government, of a Government character—I have now got the situation in prison—the prisoner said that he had a large fruiterer's business, with sixteen hands employed, that it was about fifteen to twenty minutes' walk from his house in the West End, and that if I did not get this other appointment he would hand this over to me if I was used to it—soon after this "Lord Kinloch" came in—there were then present Lady Violet, "Lord Kinloch," "Rufus Isaacs," Mr. Watt, and myself—we had dinner together at 6.30 in the house—there was a lot of conversation before dinner and the King's name was again mentioned—I dined three times in the house and once in Sloane Street—we had pie for dinner and hard-boiled eggs, sliced—the prisoner brought the pie in himself—there was conversation at dinner about the case—it was never anything else—Abrahams took me in hand, and started to tell me what to do—he told me to get this evidence off by heart, that he was arranging with the Treasury—of course it was always pretty much the same thing, but they impressed upon me that it was the Treasury and the King who wanted the case settled—that was to blind me—Abrahams said he could not take the case himself, as he had too much to do, but he would arrange for someone from the Treasury to come and take it—he said there were very few who would know about it, just Mr. Kennedy, the Magistrate, himself, of course, Lady Violet and the prisoner—he told me on no account to say

much to Mr. Freke Palmer, as he had not confidence in him, that Mr. Palmer was sure to speak it about aloud, that he was a windbag and could not keep a secret, that all Mr. Palmer wanted was money, and that he had already asked him for £100—they said they had engaged a leading counsel from the Treasury; Mr. Muir they expected would take the case in hand, as he was one of the leading counsel of the Treasury—I believed the whole story—during this evening both Lady Violet and the prisoner told me what had been the effect of the detective's violence on Lady Violet, that she had had a miscarriage, which had prevented him from having a son and heir—after dinner Lady Violet went off to bed, or said she was going to bed—that left me with the prisoner and Abrahams—I had any amount of wine, champagne it was, I expect—the prisoner took out of a sovereign purse five sovereigns and gave them to me—that night I got a registered letter and sent £4 home to my wife—Lady Violet and the prisoner offered to put me up that night in their house—I thought I would rather not; in fact, they offered to let me stay there altogether, but "Rufus Isaacs" thought it would be dangerous my being seen staying there—I left the house with the prisoner—we went through the Park and out of the gate, where I got on to an omnibus—he said he was going home—I stayed that night at Adams' Temperance Hotel, Gray's Inn Road, in the name of Kirtley—next day I returned to the prisoner's house at Knightsbridge—I saw him and Lady Violet—they said I had better go home again for a short while till things got arranged with the Treasury and they would send for me again—I told them I had got a four days' ticket from Thirsk—on that Saturday £5 was given me by the prisoner out of his sovereign case—I went home to Thirsk—the next thing that happened was that I received this telegram: "N. Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk, York. Can you be here 6 o'clock Thursday evening. Watt, 72, Knightsbridge"—the reply being paid, I replied that I would be there—I went for a drive and when I got back I found another telegram awaiting me, which said "Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk. If can come Wednesday do so. Will put you up. Watt"—I answered that by telegram and letter—on Wednesday, the 20th, I left Thirsk and came to London, arriving about 2—I went to the prisoner's house—Lady Violet, the prisoner, "Rufus Isaacs," and "Lord Kinloch" were there—they said that I would have to go to Mr. Palmer's office the next morning to go through a statement, about 10.30 or 11—I was told not to tell Mr. Palmer much about the letters or telegrams; I was to keep them to myself; as it was practically arranged with Mr. Muir to take up the case, I was to say very little to Mr. Palmer—I was to tell Mr. Palmer that I had heard the story which was concocted at the Hotel—at the interview at the prisoner's house, both the prisoner and "Rufus Isaacs" asked me if I would let him (the prisoner) see Mr. Palmer's two letters—I let the prisoner see them and he kept them—Abrahams also asked to see the prisoner's first letter to me, which I showed him—he kept it—he also asked to see the statement, as he would like to go through it—he kept it, saying it was not necessary for me to keep it—I stayed At the prisoner's that evening to dinner—the party consisted of the

prisoner, Lady Violet, and Bernard Abrahams—the dinner was as before—after it was over, Lady Violet retired—I was taken upstairs by the prisoner and Abrahams—£5 was given to me—they offered to put me up for the night—I said I would rather not stay there, and went back to the same hotel as before, in the same name—next morning, at 9.45, I went to the prisoner's by appointment arranged the night before, to go to Mr. Palmer's office—I went to the office with the prisoner and saw Mr. Palmer—he asked me a few questions about the statement, which I did not answer very well, as I had not got it off then—he then asked me if I had the original statement, that is the original note of the conversation—I said I had not it with me—I told him I would produce it later on—the prisoner gave me a wink—he was there all the time—Mr. Palmer said he would see me again next day at the Court—I wish to say that Mr. Palmer acted very honestly in this affair—that interview over, I left with the prisoner—we met Abrahams—the prisoner told me I had better get a statement ready, and Abrahams advised me to go into a stationer's shop two or three doors off Mr. Palmer's and write one out—they said I would be asked to produce it somewhere or other, at Court most likely, better have it ready—it was just as a matter of form, they said—they further said that I had made a mess of it with Mr. Palmer—I went to a little stationer's shop and bought a sheet of paper and an envelope—I asked the lady there if I might write something out—she said, "Yes"—I there wrote out in pencil a document and left the shop—I was shortly afterwards joined by the prisoner and Abrahams—I then noticed there was some fourth person near us—they said he was a detective from Scotland Yard—he sometimes kept behind and sometimes passed us—when we got to an hotel to dine, Abrahams said, "Are we being shadowed?"—the so-called detective answered, "No, it's all right"—we all four, including the detective, went in and had luncheon—I said to Abrahams, "What is there to be afraid of being shadowed if this is all right?"—he replied, "He is just sent up by Scotland Yard to see that Mr. Watt is not annoyed"—the prisoner said, "That's quite right"—I also asked the detective if he was from Scotland Yard and he replied, "Yes"—I never heard his name or other description, but I could identify him out of a thousand—I was the only one who had dinner—they had drink—the prisoner and Abrahams asked me to show them the statement I had written out in the shop—they told me to put the time in the corner—this is the statement—I showed it to them, also the copy I copied it from—they handed it back to me—I left the public-house with the prisoner and Abrahams—they said that they expected the case would be finished the next day—they said that they had plenty of money to spend and that the detective would see that a certain witness would not appear to-morrow, as they were keeping him out of the road, as they had had him drunk for years—they called him "Nosey"—the prisoner said it did not matter what was spent—the others parted company and left me with the prisoner and with him I went through the Park to Hyde Park Corner, and then to Piccadilly Circus—from there he took me round to the right and pointed out Marshall & McKenna's office—he told me

to take notice of the place and said I "might be asked something about it to-morrow"—he said he had better tell me what sort of weather it was on August 17th—he said it was only a matter of form he was telling me that, as the case was practically settled—he said it was a grey sort of morning—we walked about in the Park and he then said he had to go to the bank for some money—I waited for him—when he returned he asked me was I satisfied that the case was all right on behalf of the Treasury—I said, "Yes, it seemed all right"—he said, "I will convince you; we will go down to Mr. Muir's office, the Treasury office. I am going to see Mr. Muir there"—we got into a cab and went down to the Strand—he took me down an archway and said that it was the Treasury office—he showed me a lot of offices and said he was going in to see Mr. Muir—I waited for him for about forty-five minutes—when he cam back he said Mr. Muir would appear in the morning for him or for the Treasury and the case would be finished—we went back to his house and I there saw Lady Violet and Abrahams, who went over the statement with me and told me I should have to get it thoroughly off—he asked me a few questions likely to be asked me the next day, where I had stopped the night before, the time, and the weather—I went over my statement five or six times—then I went over it with the prisoner after that—it was said that I had stopped the night before the 17th at Paris and to get my evidence taken I was to say I was going to Canada—before I left that night it was arranged that I should be at the prisoner's the next morning at 9 o'clock—I went back to the same hotel—next morning I went to the prisoner's and there saw Lady Violet, the prisoner, and his secretary, who was also said to be the manager of the fruiterer's shop and who collected rents—I begged the prisoner to tell me if it was all correct what he had told me—he said, "Yes, a good thing for you and your wife and family; it will put you on your feet"—I drove with the prisoner and his secretary to the Court—when near there the prisoner said, "I think another drink will do you good; you seem to be nervous"—he took me to an hotel opposite the Court and gave me a glass of brandy—we went to the Court and the prisoner pointed out that Mr. Muir was there and said, "Now it is all right; there is Mr. Muir"—my name was called as a witness and I got into the box and am sorry to say I gave evidence which was taken down [The witness's depositions were then read]—my evidence having been given, I returned to 72, Knightsbridge, and there had some conversation with Lady Violet—half an hour after I went out with the prisoner and Lady Violet down Sloane Street to a dining-room about 6.30 and there had some dinner—the meal for the three cost 18s. 6d.—during the meal Lady Violet said to me she knew I had been in the box, because a telegram had been sent to her—she said, "It was just signed 'Scotland Yard'; there has also been one sent to the King in the same way"—the prisoner said the case was remanded for a week—I said that was strange, and I was beginning to get frightened then—I said I thought they had made a mess of me; it seemed like it, as Mr. Kennedy had said that if Mr. Watt annoyed anybody in the meantime he would be arrested—I did not hear the Magistrate say that, but I heard

the prisoner repeat it—Lady Violet at the dinner drank rather a good drop and had to leave the table and go home—after she left, the prisoner and I went to Victoria Station—the prisoner bought a paper, and we saw in it the Magistrate's remark about molesting the witnesses—I began then to complain, saying I thought he had made a victim of me—he said, "Mr. Kennedy must have been in a hurry to-day to get away; it will be finished next week"—I then got on to him about the money—he said, "You will get it next week when the case is finished"—I said, "What about the £5,000 you promised me; it looks as though it is not correct what you told me"—he said, "Oh, you will get your £5,000 when the case is finished"—he was a little bit drunk—we walked towards Hyde Park Corner and pointing in the direction of some houses the prisoner said, "Mrs. Watt lives along there"—on the way back to Knightsbridge he said frightful things about Mrs. Watt, "that she ought to be mown off the earth, Sir Reginald as well," that she was a bad character and that he picked her up off the streets—he said that he had said such a thing to Marshall, as Marshall says, but never really meant it—he also said that Sir Reginald Beauchamp was very "dicky" on his legs and he could soon be settled; it would be a charity to put him out of the road—before I left him that night he said that he expected to get "time" for it; that he had slept in the backwoods of Australia and out in the open air with nothing but the sky above him for shelter and he thought he could do a few months—I said it was serious and I complained generally—I said I would go to Scotland Yard and give myself up, as I found I had been made a victim of—he begged of me to put it off for another week and told me he would talk to me in the morning—I went to his house early next morning—I there saw him and Lady Violet—we had a bit of a row—I told him I was going to tell all about the case, what they had done to me, deceived me, and I would go down to Scotland Yard—he again begged of me not to do that, said he would give me a good handsome cheque besides the £5,000 if I would only keep quiet till the case was settled—they expected that the case would be settled that morning—they gave me £5 and I left—that afternoon I went home and told my wife all about it and decided that I would give information—I got a witness summons and went back with the officer who served it—at Marlborough Street I went into the witness box and made my statement on oath—the first statement I made on August 17th was false; it was the statement that had been drawn up for me.

Saturday, December 16th.

J. LIGHTFOOT (Further examined). This pencil document with regard to my evidence was given by me at the Court, I think (Ex. 8 produced)—I am not sure whether I gave it up to the police or the Court, but I know it was found in my pocket.

Cross-examined. It was either found upon me when I was arrested or I gave it up at the Court on the second occasion—I swear it was given up on one of them times—it was decidedly not given up when I first gave evidence—if it was given up at all, it would be in the Court; I never gave

any papers to Mr. Freke Palmer at all—I swear I gave it up at the Court when I gave my evidence for the first time; I think so—I gave it up one of the two times; I am not certain which; I fancy myself it was on the 22nd; I made it out on the 21st—I cannot remember giving it to Mr. Freke Palmer; I gave it to the Magistrate or one of the officials—I do not say I did not give it to Mr. Freke Palmer; he may have asked me for it—I gave it to someone in Court—if I knew that I gave it to Mr. Freke Palmer, I would tell you—in August this year I was dealing in cattle and I had a little poultry farm at Thirsk, Sowerby, Yorkshire—I lived at a little place just at the bottom of Sowerby—I had a field, a little orchard, a big garden, a cottage, a stable, a pony and trap, and 100 head of poultry and a horse at that time—I have bought and sold pigs and several things; I make my living at it—I have done nothing else this year, but I did a little bit now and again last year—the latter part of last year I was doing very much the same thing, and in the early part working at my printing trade—that is the trade I served my apprenticeship at, but I have not worked at it for some time—I have worked at it on and off this last few years—I worked fifteen years in one place, rising to head compositor at a head wage—I am forty-two, my birthday being the day I was sentenced—I gave up my berth five or six years ago—as near as I can tell you the last time I earned any money at printing was a year ago—a year ago I passed in the name of Kirtley, because my father was editor of a newspaper and I did not want the people where I worked to think that I had been better off and had come down to work for a small wage—I was in Paris and St. Cloud in January this year for a few weeks—I never did anything while I was there; I lived on what I had—I made a little bit of money gambling—I did not go to Paris altogether to gamble, but that is practically why I went—I only gambled a little in a little street near the Vendome—I made bets; I did not gamble—that is why I went to Paris—I went with a gentleman; I cannot think of his name now—I will tell you, if I think of his name and address—he said he was a photographer from London—I have met him in London—all I know about London is my way from Victoria Station to King's Cross by Piccadilly and Regent Street—I met him by arrangement at King's Cross—he induced me to go over to Paris on the Baltic Fleet Commission, the inquiry about the Russians firing into the Baltic Fleet—I know a bit about the River Humber, and I went there as a witness, but I was never called upon—this gentleman was engaged by the Government to gather up evidence—I am telling you what I went to Paris for as I go along—I stayed at the Rue d' Amsterdam, this gentleman paying part of my expenses and I paying part—the house I stayed at used to be called "Fox's"; I do not know what they call it now; it goes by the name of "Fox's Hotel"; it is still on the window, "Austin Fox's," but that is not the proprietor—I was very successful in my betting; I was there seven or eight weeks, getting about £200 or £300—it was more in February than January when I did the betting on steeplechasing, at little bits of meetings—I did not lay against horses at all—this was my first experience of Paris—I said at the Police Court that "Austin Fox's" was the name of the hotel

I stayed at—I came back about the back end of February—I had been to Hyde Park before; that is about the only place I really know in London—I generally go in there and have a sit down when I am tired—I have been to London a few times—I like to sit and watch the people go along on the horses—I cannot say when I was in London before this; I do not think I had been in London before I saw the prisoner; I am not sure—I got my expenses for going to Paris and a lump sum of £300 from the photographer, which was quite apart from my betting—it was very doubtful when I went whether I would have to give any evidence; the evidence I was going to give was about the moving banks of the Humber, in which I am very well up—I have done drawings from plans of the Humber—the photographer was a representative of the Russian Government, as far as I know, both sides—he did not think it was necessary for me to give evidence; I only went to enlighten him on certain things—the £300 was paid me by a cheque on a London bank, of which I cannot tell you the name—I never had one before—I did not then have a banking account—I went with this gentle­man to the bank; it is in the West End somewhere, the Kensington district—he went with me part of the way and told me to get out at a certain station; I cannot say whether it was Kensington or Sloane Street—I think it has been an unprofitable trip for me, taking it right through—I wrote this letter, dated August 27th, on a Sunday; I do not remember the date (Extract of Ex. 1 read: "Sir,—Not having your correct address, I trust this note will find you, but I think I know sufficient to clear you from the base charge brought against you ")—I returned from London the day after Mr. Watt was tried—I thought I returned on Friday, but it appears to be Saturday—I was only in London one, night on that occasion—it must have been Friday, the 25th, if that is the day Mr. Watt was tried, and I Returned to Yorkshire some time on Saturday—the interview in Hyde Park took place on Friday, the 25th—I think he told me he had been tried that day—it is very difficult to get a newspaper at Thirsk; I see them now and again—I have got them on a Sunday sometimes, but very seldom—I was sitting at the first big seat round the left of Hyde Park Corner—I do not smoke; if anyone gives me a cigarette I smoke, but I never buy any tobacco—neither of them were smoking anything when they came up—I cannot say that I saw the prisoner take the cigar out of his pocket that he gave me; I was not glaring at him—I swear that I think it was the prisoner who handed me a cigar, unless it was his living image—I swear that that gentleman (The prisoner) handed me the cigar; to the best of my belief it was the prisoner—I am certain it was the prisoner, but I am not so keen on swearing things as I used to be—I practically swear that that man (The prisoner) offered me a cigar, but I am pretty well nervous now—I know it was him—I know all three of us then smoked cigars—I swear that as far as I know, the prisoner smoked a cigar; I am certain it was the prisoner, but I am not going to swear anything—if it was not him, it was his living image—to my satisfaction it is him—I swear that he smoked several cigars after that; he smoked one in Hyde Park when we were walking along together—I swore falsely for two purposes: one which has never been mentioned

in public, but I should like to write it down—I had his word for the £5,000 he was going to give me; he was a Member of Parliament and I thought he was all right, but I am satisfied now that he is not—that is not the main reason why I swore falsely at all—we were in the public-house talking above an hour—it was after 8.30 p.m. when we came back to Hyde Park Corner; we knocked about Edgware Road for a bit; it would be about 9 p.m.—I made a statement in prison of the evidence I gave yesterday; after I was convicted of perjury and sentenced—I think it was to Sergeant Fowler and Sergeant Ball, who called two succeeding days, Friday and Saturday—I swear those, are the only time they have been there; that is all I have seen of them—I cannot give you the dates, but I think they were two dates together—I know one was a Saturday, but I thought it was Friday and Saturday—they were not much there on the Thursday, but they were there a good bit on the Saturday—they saw me on a third occasion, but not for an interview—I am sure they did not see me on a third occasion and take further evidence from me; I proved out of prison where I had been to on certain occasions—not every word of my evidence was false; I gave my own and my sister's address—my evidence had pretty well all been prepared by this imitation Rufus Isaacs—I was thoroughly deceived into it by a man who represented himself to be a Member of Parliament and another one who said he was a lord, and Lady Violet and this Rufus Isaacs—I knew it was false—if I said in my cross-examination that I said, "My solicitor has the note; I gave it to him then," it would be true; I gave the paper up in Court—on the 29th I wrote to Mr. Freke Palmer, "As I have just a few minutes I must be brief. I will not be in London for some time, as I am bound for Scotland soon. If you desire to see me, I will engage a gentleman in my place for a short time and on seeing you I will give you all minor details. The above address will find me until Friday if you are likely to send for me. Please drop a telegram so I may make arrangements. Address, pro tern., World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk"—I wrote that letter in the post office at Thirst—World's End is at the corner of Sowerby—I wrote it without assistance from anybody—I say also, "I have identified Marshall's photo in the Sunday 'News of the World "'; I added that of my own accord—I had seen the paper that, day—I do not see that paper once in three months; I just happened to pick it up—I did not enclose in that letter the state­ment which I was prepared to make; I had not got it in my pocket—this is in my handwriting (Ex. 5 produced) including the signature, "N. Battle," and the date, August 29th—I wrote this letter to Mr. Freke Palmer on August 31st from World's End of my own accord, because I thought that the thing had fallen through (Ex. 6: Stating that if he (Light-foot) should not hear from Mr. Palmer on the Friday or Saturday he would conclude that his services were not necessary, and that he trusted he would bring the case to a successful conclusion. Signed, "N. Battle")—in reply to that I got this letter from Mr. Freke Palmer, dated September 1st (Read): "I am much obliged for yours of the 31st ult., and for the statement you have kindly sent me. If the case is committed for trial

I should like to see you on the matter and will communicate with you again shortly if you will keep me informed of your whereabouts"—I am quite certain that I did not send the statement until after that letter was written in the post office; I cannot give the date when I sent the statement, but I know I sent it by itself without any letter—I swear my statement dated August 29th was not enclosed in the letter of the 29th—on September 21st I was at Mr. Palmer's office—I think he started by saying that it was no use my making any statements which would not stand inquiry; he did all right; he did his best—the prisoner winked at me as much as to say, "Take no notice"—I was sitting on a chair inside the door and the prisoner and Mr. Freke Palmer were facing us both—Mr. Freke Palmer questioned me closely upon my statement; he cross-examined me—I did all I knew to make him believe in the prisoner's presence that it was true—at the instigation of the prisoner I told Mr. Freke Palmer that I had a note of the conversation I had overheard—I did not repent immediately after I had given my evidence on September 22nd; I repented the same day—when I was at King's Cross I was very much upset; one minute I was going down to Scotland Yard and the next minute I wondered whether I should not go and tell my wife all about it—being at King's Cross, I thought I would go home—I went to see a friend, to go with me to Scotland Yard previous to that—about three or four weeks after, the police served a notice on me requiring me to go back with them—I remained at home making arrangements for my wife and family—I knew I was going to be locked up, because I intended to plead guilty—I told my wife that the very first day I got to the Court I was going to tell all about it—I came back quite voluntarily; I always meant to do so—I met Sergeant Ball coming up the road—I think he said, "You are Battle" first—I did not hesitate—the officer went on to say, "You are the man who attended Marlborough Street Police Court on September 22nd on the hearing of the case against Mr. Watt," and I acknowledged it—he told me he was directed to serve a summons on me for my attendance at the Marlborough Street Police Court the next day—I said I could not come, as it was too short a notice; I said I had just got a letter to go to Leeds to-morrow and it was very awkward, but I would come—the officer may have said, "You must come, "and I said, "If I must come to-morrow, I must"—he told me he could not bring me—I gave in evidence yesterday a number of things which I never said at Marlborough Street Police Court, but I had not the chance"—I did not say a word about the prisoner saying that he expected he would do time, and that as he had slept in the back woods of Australia he thought he could manage a few months; I simply answered the questions that I was asked—I asked to make a statement at the Assizes, but I was not allowed—I wanted to make a statement before I was sentenced, but they would not allow me a barrister—I had given just an outline of my evidence to Sergeant Fowler before I gave my evidence at Marlborough Street on the second occasion—I was not asked for all; I was not in a position to give all; I was too cut up—I told a lot of it to Sergeant Ball in the train—I think I told Sergeant Fowler about the prisoner alluding to doing time—I should like to explain why I did not

give a lull account of it—we rushed into Court and I pleaded guilty in less than five minutes—I think I was in the witness-box about three-quarters of an hour—on one occasion, when I was at the prisoner's house, the man who called himself 'Rufus Isaacs "had a conversation with the prisoner in a language which I took to be French—I cannot speak French; I know a few words like "Oui, oui"—your suggestion that my first communication with the prisoner either verbal or written was the letter on August 27th is wrong, and that the first time I ever saw him to speak to was September 16th, bar seeing him in the park—I asked a policeman the number of the prisoner's house—at that time I think I had a piece of paper with his address in my bag with my letters—I knew I was going to Knights-bridge and I did not look in my bag—I knew the number, but it had slipped my memory—I did not open the bag, because I did not want to stand I the middle of a crowd with a bag open—I may have said to Sergeant Fowler that I had omitted to bring his address with me—I appreciate the fact that if I asked a policeman it looked as if I did not know the address—when I wrote on August 27th saying," Not knowing your correct address," I had mislaid the little bit of paper—on September 16th, when I saw the prisoner, I did not say, "My name is Battle "or "I wrote to you," and he did not say, "You must see my solicitor"—I did not say, "I have come from Edinburgh to help you, and return to-night. I sent your solicitor a statement about three weeks ago. May I show you a copy?"; that is nonsense—I do not think that he and Lady Violet read over a copy of my statement to me, nor did the prisoner say, "Is it true?"and I did not reply, "Yes, every word of it"—I did not say I was hungry—I had dinner behind the cellar kitchen, where they dine—they told me their dinners were sent in always; I do not think they have any servants to cook any dinner; I don't think they have anybody except a general cleaner, who comes to clean up—whatever I eat they told me was fetched from outside—the prisoner did not say before I left, "I do not think your evidence can be taken until the case for the prosecution is closed, but I shall as my solicitor to let you know"—the motive which is influencing me in coming forward and giving evidence in this case is that I have done wrong and I wish to put things right in the interests of truth and justice and to let my friends in the North see bow I have been taken down by the prisoner—I have never been offered any advantage—if the prisoner says that on September 16th I said, "I am only coming forward in the interests of truth and justice," he knows well enough that he is talking rubbish—I did not, suggest to him he might pay my expenses; he gave me £5 freely—I never told him I came from Edinburgh—never at any time did I tell Mr. Palmer that I was in a good way of business in Yorkshire and my character would bear every investigation—the prisoner never gave me more than £5 at once; I had altogether from him £20—I have not yet remembered the name of the photographer who took me over to Paris—if I had been called as a witness I should have appeared as "Lightfoot"—I was staying in Paris in the name of" Kirtley "because I was used to it.

Re-examined. "John Kirtley "was the name I went under about two years ago—I served my apprenticeship with the Mayor of Durham;

I do not know whether he is Mayor now—I was fifteen years in the service of Messrs. Howe Bros.; I left their service about five years ago—I was then chosen as manager of a printing office out of sixty-three applicants in Chester-le-Street, Durham—I was there a year until the firm was sold—I then went to Sunderland on the "Sunderland Echo"—I was on for myself a little while before that, doing printing at Chester-le-Street and Sunderland—a gentleman ruined me; he did me out of a lot of money—my connection with the printing trade stopped in Sunderland about two and a half years ago—I have three boys—after I gave up printing I commenced to buy pigs and started my poultry farm—I bought on a small scale before going to Paris, but I got some money there and I then started on a large scale—I used to do printing as well if anyone was busy—the photographer told me he was a representative of both Governments; he said he was a sort of general man in the case if advice on the River Humber was wanted—he took photographs abroad at different places—this is a further document found upon me when Sergeant Ball brought me to London; it is an additional ink copy of the proposed evidence, signed "N. Battle "and dated August 26th, 1905 (Produced)—on my way to London in the train I made a statement to Sergeant Ball—I think he put a little bit down in a book, but not all of it—before I was sentenced in this Court I wished to have a counsel, so that I could explain the reason I had committed perjury—they said I had pleaded guilty and could not have one—I started to make a statement, but I thought I was wasting the time of the Court, and that I was doing wrong by making it then, and I stopped—it was arranged that I should write the letter of August 27th to deceive Mr. Freke Palmer—I want to write down the principal reason for my committing perjury for my own sake—I am very anxious to do it—it explains everything; it is most serious. [The witness, at the learned Judge's direction, wrote on a piece of paper which was afterwards shown to the counsel and Jury. The learned Judge stated that he would take a note that no wrong inference was to be drawn from MR. AVORYS not cross-examining upon it. His Lordship then directed the statement to be sealed.]

By the COURT. I won my money in betting from an Englishman—I just filled in my spare time—I betted with English people in a cafe; Paris is full of English betting men—I did not bet with people connected with the North Sea Inquiry. [The witness, on asking to make a statement, was told by the Judge that they could not have it, as they were trying the prisoner and not him.]

GEORGE FUELLING . I carried on business as a fruiterer at 153, Earl's Court Road, up to June, 1897—I then disposed of the business to the prisoner, but a Mr. Daeth acted as his nominee—since that time the prisoner has made an effort to dispose of it—he and my son came into communication last October and my son purchased the business on or about October 23rd—the lease of the premises was assigned to my son.

Cross-examined. I do not know that the prisoner purchased the business for Mr. Daeth's benefit—all I had to do was to assign the lease and the business.

FREDERICK MARSHALL TURNER . I am the manager of the Lyric Printing Co., of 126, Charing Cross Road—on September 20th, 1905, we received an order to print some gentleman's visiting cards—it is in my order-book—the cards were supplied in the name of" Norman Battle," but I cannot say to whom.

JOHN EDWARD MALLINSON . I am a clerk in the General Post Office—I produce certain original telegrams—one purports to be signed "Watt, 72, Knightsbridge"—it was handed in at Knightsbridge on September 18th—it says: "N. Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk, Yorkshire. Can you be here "(then there is "Friday morning "crossed out) "6 o'clock Thursday evening"—this is another telegram of September 18th handed in at Thirsk, which says: "Right, depend upon me, will call punctually"—a third telegram handed in at Knightsbridge on September 18th says: "Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk. If can come Wednesday do so. Will put you up," and a fourth, dated September 18th, signed "Battle "and addressed to "Watt, 72, Knightsbridge," which says, "All right. Wednesday six; been in country."

LOUISE BRIDGER . I live at 9, Bracewell Road, Kensington, and am employed at Searcy's restaurant, 19, Sloane Street, as an attendant there—I know Lady Violet Watt and the prisoner by sight—I remember on one occasion in September last their dining at the restaurant—there was another gentleman with them, tall, thin and dark [Battle came forward)—I should think he was the man—I think it was September 22nd—the meal came to 19s. 10d.—I have the bill here—they had roast lamb and vegetables, sparkling hock, sparkling moselle, pudding, cheese, and afterwards tea—I should say the meal was between 2.15 and 3 p.m.—while they were sitting there Lady Violet asked me to leave the room for ten minutes—I did so and then came back—Lady Violet went away, leaving the other two—they remained a short time and then left together—I remember about a week before that seeing Lady Violet, the prisoner, and another gentleman dining there—I did not notice the other man particularly except that he was rather a Jewish-looking man—we have supplied food to the prisoner's residence—I should say we do not keep pies ready made; I do not know—we have received orders for pies from Lady Violet—I cannot say when.

Cross-examined. Lady Violet has been a good customer of ours, but not for luncheons—I have known her for about three years, coming in and out—she has sometimes had lunch, but very seldom with the prisoner—I recognise the gentleman sitting below you [Mr. Church]—I think he was there one Saturday—he is not the rather Jewish-looking man—I was not called before the Magistrate—I was asked to give evidence four or five weeks ago—I was asked to remember who had lunched there on September 22nd—we have no dinners.

Re-examined. We keep the customers' bills, but they are not dated.

WILLIAM ADAMS . I keep the Adams' Hotel, 339, Gray's Inn Road—I know a man named John Kirtley [Battle came forward]—that man has been in the habit of staying at my hotel for probably two years, as John Kirtley—on referring to my book I find he stayed at my place on September

20th, 21st, and 22nd—the time before that was June 4th—I saw him on September 16th—he said he would be coming up probably for a fortnight, would I reserve a room for him?

Cross-examined. I have never known Battle in any other name but Kirtley—he stayed at my place on April 18th last, also the 15th—this book is rather slovenly kept—he has stayed with us several times this year—he usually came to stay from Tuesday to Friday, going home on the Saturday—I only knew "Thirsk, Yorkshire," as his address—he has not been to us since September 22nd.

Re-examined. I had the conversation with Kirtley on either the Wednesday or Thursday.

HENRY HILLS (51 B. R.) During the third week in September last I was on duty in the neighbourhood of Sloane Street—I remember a man coming up to me and asking where Mr. Watt lived—I pointed out the house to him—I have seen Lightfoot since—he is the man who spoke to me.

THOMAS FOSTER BRADFORD . I am an overseer at the General Post Office—I produce the certificate of a registered letter addressed to "Mrs. Lightfoot, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk"—it was handed in at the Knightsbridge Post Office on September 21st, 1905.

JESSIE WEEKS . I am a general servant at the Rose Hotel, Maidenhead—up to November 9th, 1905, I worked for a Mrs. Clarke at the Bungalow, Raleigh Road, Maidenhead—during the time I worked for her, there was a Bernard Abrahams living with her as his wife—I know the prisoner and Lady Violet by sight—I have seen them at the Bungalow [MR. AVORY protested that the Defence had had no notice of this witness and stated that it was quite impossible during the trial to make inquiries so as to test the witness's accuracy. The Judge stated that he was surprised at the conduct of the Prosecution, and said that the Defence should be given every facility to test the accuracy of the story]—I have seen them there about three times—the last time was, I think, about September last—I worked for Mrs. Clarke for two years and nine months—I saw in the newspaper an account of the prisoner's case at the Police Court—the last visit of the prisoner and Lady Violet was after I saw that account—I think Abrahams went to London once or twice—he used to go out sometimes every morning and come back in the evening to dinner—the last time I saw him was about October 13th—it was a Friday, I think—Mrs. Clarke told me something after he left—she received three letters after that by post—I do not know whose writing they were in—they were addressed to me, but by Mrs. Clarke's directions, I gave them to her—this (Produced) is a photo of Abrahams. [Cross-examination postponed at MR. AVORY'S request.]

GEORGE BENNING (Inspector, Berks Constabulary). I am stationed at Maidenhead—I know Bernard Abrahams well—I used to see him nearly every day—I received a police telegram from London on, I think, October 16th—up to a day or two of receiving that I saw him—I have not seen him since.

ALBERT BALL (Recalled by MR. BODKIN). I went to 72, Knightsbridge, to search the house at 9 p.m. on August 17th—before I went there I had

heard something about peppermint from Marshall—it was while we were on the way to the Police Court to apply for a warrant, I believe [MR. AVORY objected to this evidence, and the Judge said it must be struck out]—I went to Sowerby with a witness summons and there saw Lightfoot—travelling up with me in the train he made some statements to me—he was arrested on October 12th, at 6.30 p.m.—after he made his statement at the Police Court he was kept under observation, but he was not formally arrested until we had the warrant signed—I searched him and found upon him this ink copy of the pencil memorandum.

By MR. AVORY. I served Lightfoot with a witness summons at Sowerby on October 11th at 9 p.m.—he was walking in front of me and I overtook him—I told him I recognised him as Norman Battle—he hesitated slightly at first, and then I told him he would have to come up to Marlborough Street.

WILLIAM ADAMS (Recalled by MR. AVORY). I find that Lightfoot stayed at my place this year on February 27th, 28th, March 6th to 10th, 14th and 15th, April 15th and 17th, June 4th to 7th, September 20th, 21st and 22nd.

THOMAS WORLEY . I am now living at 32, East Street, Theobald's Road, and am a newsagent—for about ten years I had a newspaper stall outside the Hyde Park Hotel at Knightsbridge—I supplied the prisoner with newspapers—his house was two doors away from my stall—I saw Lady Violet occasionally—I used occasionally to go errands for her—I went about August, 1902, for her to a firm of solicitors at Oxford Circus—the same day, after I returned, the prisoner came to me and said, "Would you like to earn some more money?"—I said, "I don't mind, if I have the time and if it is in my way"—he said, "Will you meet me at 3 o'clock in Hyde Park at the back of my house?"—I said, "Yes"—I met him—he said to me, "You seem to be a fellow able to give a good account of yourself"—I said, "What do you mean?"—he said, "You would not be afraid to strike anybody"—I said, "If anybody interfered with me I should try to interfere with them back again"—he said, "I mean this: I have had a woman following me about for a long time; she has had large sums of money from me and I intend to put a stop to it. I want you to go to White Hall (or White House) at Hampton Court and say you are an old servant named Howes, ask her to come out, and when she comes, give her a blow in the stomach as her inside is in a bad condition, and I will give you £10 for that—I said, "I do not care about" doing anything of that, as I have never done such a thing before"—he talked for a little while and then said, "In the course of your travels you meet with a lot of rough fellows"—I said, "Yes, I meet with all sorts"—he said, "Do you think you could get me two or three chaps; take them down there, give them about 5s. a piece and keep the rest for yourself"—I said, "I'd sooner not do anything like that, as it might get me into trouble"—he said, "You are missing a fine thing; she always carries about £70 or £80 worth of jewellery. It is easy done; you can entice her to the river, which runs close by, you can give her a blow and clear, out and be done with it"—I said, "I don't care about doing anything

of that"—he said, "Here is £5; take that and do the best you can. I will meet you to-morrow and if it is done I will give you another £5"—he gave me a stick that afternoon, saying, "Take this; if you cannot hit her hard enough give her a blow with this"—I took his stick—he told me the name of the woman was Seelieg—next morning he came to my stall and said, "How did you get on?"—I said, "Well, I sent them fellows and when they got there they said that Mrs. Seelieg was not staying there "—after a while, having walked about and considered, he came back and said, "No, I think them fellows have twisted you; they have not been there at all"—as a matter of fact, they had not been and I had no intention of sending any—after that I had to shift my business, on account of building operations, and secured a portion as a newspaper carrier on a bicycle—the prisoner had asked me for my name and address, and he wrote me a letter asking me to meet him—the letter is destroyed—I would have kept it if I had known this case was coming on—I was to meet him at 3 o'clock at the same place, but I never kept the appointment—some time after that as I was riding my bicycle I met him—he asked me how I was going on—I said, "Oh, very well"—he said, "Take this sovereign; I want you to go to the Howard Hotel, Norfolk Street, or to Courtfield Gardens, and find out if Mrs. Watt is staying there"—I was to let him know—I did not go at all—I again met him—he asked me, "Is she staying there?"—I said No"—I had not been to inquire—he said, "That is a d—nuisance. I shall have to put the private detectives on her track, and they are rather expensive; they cost £1 a day"—I left him and was to meet him on a future occasion when he found out where Mrs. Watt was staying—he said it would not do for me to be seen talking to him so often at the back of his house, he would meet me in the Green Park—I met him later on and he said he had found out that Mrs. Watt was staying at the Howard Hotel, in Norfolk Street, in the name of Watt—he said to me, "Have you still got that stick?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I want you to stop about there; watch your chance, if you see her to run into her, then give her a severe blow in the stomach and knock her down"—I said, "They might have me up for doing some robbery or violence to her; I would rather have nothing to do with that"—then after a little while he said, "Don't you think it would be a good idea if you were to hang about there with your bicycle, watch your chance as she is crossing the road to run into her and knock her down; I will give you £1 a week while hanging about on your bicycle; £50 if you knock her down and give her a severe blow, £100 if it leads to something else"—I found that "something else" meant if I killed her, so I said, "I will see what I can do"—I never troubled further—I was to make an appointment to let him know how I was going on—I did nothing—I saw him again some two or three days afterwards in Green Park—he said to me, "It is very funny; I have been to this place two or three times during yesterday and the day before and I never see you"—I said, "Very likely, as I was riding about on my bike"—as it was cold, of course I was riding about—he said, "You will have to keep a closer watch; besides, it is essential that something should be done. I will tell you what I will do now: I will give you £1 a week while

you are hanging about, £50 if you hurt her, and another £100 and £1 a week for life if you kill her, and I want this done as quickly as possible "—I had to make another appointment—I never troubled about waiting about the hotel—I met him—he gave me a sovereign occasionally and sometimes £2, but that was towards the end—he had said to me, "It is essential that something must be done; as soon as you write me the letter that you have knocked her down, put down in it the word "Done' and I will meet you and give you the £50"—I was not to put anything else in the letter and I was to address it simply "Mr. Watt"—this was about October, 1902—his address, I believe, was then 20, Albert Gate, but I think they have altered it to another name now—he said as soon as he received the letter he would meet me the same evening and give me £50—he met me the same evening and gave me a little bag with £10 in gold in it, saying," Take this £10; if I find out that she is seriously hurt I will give you the other £100"—he said, "Did you knock her down? Did you seriously hurt her?"—I said, "I did not stop to see, as I rode away"—he had said to me, "Don't stop to see; ride away if you can, then they won't make much inquiries, take not much notice of it"—two days after that he said he would go and find out how Mrs. Watt was—I met him two nights after that—he said, u I cannot make it out; I have been and inquired. Mrs. Watt is not confined to her room, and she is able to go out; this seems very funny. Did you really give her a severe hurt?"—I said, "I did not trouble to see"—he said, "Perhaps you knocked the wrong woman down"—I said, "Perhaps I have"—he said, "I want you to take this photograph. Of course you must not go by that too much; she is much stouter now. Study the features well and you will recognise Mrs. Watt by that"—I took the photograph—he said, "Don't you think it would be a fine thing if you were to dress yourself up really smart, go to the Howard Hotel, take rooms and watch your chance to get into Mrs. Watt's room, give her a blow and chloroform her; I can get the chloroform for you to give her when you have done it!"—I said, "I don't much like to have anything to do with it"—he said, "I have been good to you; do you think you can find me a man who has done manslaughter or something of that?"—I then thought of a man I had seen hanging about—I said, "I will do my best to see if I can find you a man"—when I found him I was to fetch him to Green Park, the same place where I had been meeting him—I knew the man I meant as "Nosey"; I did not know his real name—I saw "Nosey" after this conversation and took him to meet the prisoner—the prisoner said, "Is this the man?"—I said, "Yes, this is the man"—he said to "Nosey," "Have you done any time?" or something of that—" Nosey" told him he had—he said to him, "It is like this here; what name shall I call you?"—" Nosey" said, "Call me 'Jim'"—the prisoner said, "Well, Jim, I want you to go to the Howard Hotel, take rooms there and watch your chance; get into Mrs. Watt's room, give her a blow and chloroform her. It can be done, by getting all right with the housemaid and giving her a present. Watch your chance, secrete yourself in her room and give her a blow and chloroform her"—" Nosey" said, "Very well"—he gave

"Nosey"£5 to go there to take the rooms and buy some clothes—the prisoner further said, "Shall I get the chloroform—I believe "Nosey" said, "Well, I will get it"—I did not listen to all their conversation; I left them together—out of the £5 given him, "Nosey" gave me £2 10s.—it was arranged that "Nosey" was to come again two days after to let him know how he was going on—we met the prisoner, who asked "Nosey" how he was going on—"Nosey" said 'Mrs. Watt was not staying there, she had gone to Harrogate'—the prisoner said, "The best thing you can do is to go to Harrogate, find out where she is; she generally stays at the Prince of Wales Hotel, Harrogate"—they had some more conversation after that, which I did not hear—the finish of it was that we had to meet the prisoner again two nights afterwards—we met him and he said, "I don't want no more to do with this man; he is a liar and a scamp. She has not been to Harrogate at all"—he gave "Nosey" a sovereign that evening and "Nosey" went off—I did not see him again for eighteen months—the prisoner said that neither "Nosey" nor Mrs. Watt had been to Harrogate; as a matter of fact; Mrs. Watt was still staying at the Norfolk Hotel—I met the prisoner again after that—he said to me, "We had best let Mrs. Watt drop for a while"—he said at some time that he believed she had gone to Ascot House, Ascot; would I go down on my bike and find out if she was staying there?"If so, you will have a fine opportunity there, because there is nobody about. You can knock her about and then fall on her, jump on her, what you like; there will be nobody in sight"—I did not go to Ascot, but I met him two nights after to let him know how I was going on—that day it had been very muddy and I was in a rare state—he said "I can see what it is; you have had a bad journey"—I said, "Yes, I, have had a bad journey"—he said, "I don't suppose you will be sorry when you are at home"—he said, "Did you go to Ascot?"—I said, "I went to Ascot. I never see her there, and I don't think she is staying there"—he said, "I think we will let her drop for a while; I have got something else in hand"—I think he gave me £2 that night—this was somewhere about November, 1902—I had, I should think, about £50 altogether from the prisoner—I have not got any of his letters—I kept them at home in a drawer for some time and then they got thrown away.

Cross-examined. I had known "Nosey" at that time for about two years—I had been in his company once or twice—I did not know he had been convicted—I knew him as a man hanging about—I never knew him to interfere with anybody or cause anybody any bodily harm, and I thought he would be just the one to take to the prisoner—it was not our idea to get money out of the prisoner; if he liked to give it, he would; but if he did not, he would not—I thought we would get money, but not by telling lies; we did not think anything of that kind—I arranged with "Nosey" to divide anything we got—it would not have been honest to have done what the prisoner wanted—he came to me because I sold newspapers and thought I would do anything for him, but he found out his mistake—it was not an honest way of getting money out of the prisoner—I know now that "Nosey's" real name is Shuttle—I said at

the Police Court that the reason I selected him was because he never had the heart to work for a living and never had the heart to thieve for a living—I cannot say how many times altogether I obtained money from the prisoner by telling lies, as sometimes I never told him any lies at all—he gave me the money to keep the meetings, and as I was not doing nothing for it, I took his money—the biggest sum I received from him at one time was £10 and the smallest £1—I thought he meant what he was asking me to do—I never Mentioned the matter to anybody but Shuttle—the prisoner had no character from me as to whether I was a betting man or addicted to violence—he did not ask me if I was prepared to assault anyone or willing to do so if paid for it—for all he knew, I might have gone straight away to a policeman and told him about it, but he was a man of position and a Member of Parliament, and I simply sold newspapers, and he might have got somebody to say different to me and nobody would have believed me—I never did inform the police; they came to me while I was at work, after the prisoner was charged—I am quit sure the prisoner gave me the stick on the first occasion I met him—it is lost—it was an ordinary dark brownish walking-stick, with a very heavy knobbly head—I do not remember saying at the Police Court about" running straight into her and giving her a blow with the stick in the stomach"—these things occurred three years ago, and I have had to think of all this by memory—on one or two occasions I took news-papers to the prisoner's house; he would ask me to leave them and I pushed them under the door—I do not know whether he was well known as living in the neighbourhood—he gave no reason for telling me to write him as "Mr. Watt," except that it might be noticeable—I say that having said "Nosey" was a liar and a scamp, he gave him a sovereign—" Nosey" was to write me a letter pretending he had been to Harrogate, but I do not remember receiving one—if you like, you can put it that it was for the mere purpose of obtaining money from the prisoner by false pretences—it was to show that he had been there when he had not gone.

Re-examined. The police came and took my statement in September this year.

Monday, December 18th.

JAMES SHUTTLE . I am living now at Brook Street, Holborn, and there are six convictions against me altogether—I was convicted of assault in March, 1904, and I served the sentence in Pentonville prison—I have a lot of nick-names; I have never been called a nick-name until it was put in these ha' penny papers—I have been called "Nosey" a long time—in November, 1902, I had some communication with a man named Worley, who had a paper stall at Knightsbridge, just outside the hotel—as a result of that I met him at Hyde Park Corner one evening and went with him to Green Park, where I saw the prisoner, with whom I had a conversation—he said to me," What shall I call you!" and I said, "Jim"—he said, "Have you ever done time?"—I said, "I have just come out from doing three years for killing a woman"—he said, "All women are wicked. I want you to do a job for me. Stay at an hotel in Norfolk Street, Strand. There

is a woman staying there in the name of Mrs. Watt. Here is £5. Get some chloroform, buy a jemmy and stay there. You can square the chambermaid to get the number of her room"—I said, "All right"—he gave me the number of her room as well, but I cannot recollect now what it was—he said, as regards the chloroform, "Put it in a handkerchief and hold it over her nose," and I said, "All right"—it was not the fact that I had done a term of imprisonment for killing a woman—as regards the jemmy, he said, "You want to burst open the door with the jimmy to get into the room. You can easily buy one"—he gave me £5 and said if I wanted any more money I was to let Worley know—Worley was standing a few yards away, not within hearing distance—that was all that passed between us on that occasion—he walked away and left us and I joined Worley and gave him £2 10s. out of the £5—the next day I saw Worley and had a conversation with him and on the Saturday night following that we went again to Green Park, where we again saw the prisoner—I told him Mrs. Watt had gone to Harrogate"—he said, "She will stay at the Prince of Wales Hotel, Harrogate. Why do not you follow her?"—I said I had no more money, and he then gave me another £5 in gold—he then left us and I divided the £5 with Worley again—shortly after I went to Euston and gave a letter to the guard to be posted by him at Harrogate to Worley, so he could show it to the prisoner—I never went to Harrogate—I afterwards ascertained from Worley that that letter was Bent to him—shortly after that I saw the prisoner in company with a lady at Albert Gate, Knightsbridge—he did not speak to me; he looked at me—on the same day I saw Worley, and after that he and I saw the prisoner in Green Park at 6 p.m. on a Saturday—he spoke to Worley first—he said to me, "You are a liar; you have not been to Harrogate. I have had a private detective and proved she has not left London, and I shall not give you any more money until you have done the job. Go and stay at the hotel at once"—I said, "I have got no money," and he gave me a sovereign"—that was all the conversation—I kept the whole of that sovereign—I did not go to the hotel—he mentioned the name of it, but I forget it; it was the same hotel as before; she was still staying there—I did not see the prisoner till about the beginning of January, 1904—I went then to Walham Green to see Worley—I had a conversation with him and as a result of that I went to the prisoner's house, 20, Albert Gate, at 6 p.m.—he opened the door—I said, "Tom sent me. You want a job done"—he said, "Walk towards Hyde Park and I will be out in a minute"—I walked towards Hyde Park and after a short time the prisoner joined me—he said, "What shall I call you?"—I said "Arthur'—he said, "Have you ever done time?"—I said, "I have just come out from doing five years for hitting a woman over the head with a bar of iron'—that was not true at all—he did not seem to recognise me in the least—he said, "There is a woman living at 15, Chapel Street, name of Mrs. Watt. I want you to do her in for me"—he said Chapel Street was at Grosvenor Place—he told me to get some operating chloroform and he gave me 2s. and told me to go and have a steak, as he said I looked bad—he said, "I will meet you at 9 o'clock at Hobart Place, Victoria"—he said, "Come

to my house in twenty minutes' time and say your name is Howes, you used to be my valet at St. George's Square"—I was to get a pair of boots—he said he would give me £100 as soon as the job was done—he mentioned Hobart Place as the place where I was to meet him after I had been to his house—after twenty minutes or so I went to his house—he opened the door and gave me a pair of patent boots wrapped up in brown paper—I wore them for two or three hours and pawned them at Young's in King's Cross Road, the next day, because they were too big for me—I cannot tell you the name I pawned them under—I sent a woman in to pava them—when the prisoner gave me the boots he told me to meet him at 9 o'clock at Hobart Place—the woman who pawned these boots of mine was a cousin of mine named Doncaster, but I do not believe she pawned them in her right name—I went to Hobart Place and saw the prisoner—he gave me a sovereign to get some chloroform and told me he wanted Mrs. Watt murdered—he said, "As soon as you have done the job I will give you £100. When you go and see her, say you are a brother of Howes, who used to be my valet at St. George's Square"—I knew Chapel Street to be in Grosvenor Place—he told me Howes was in the Army in India—I was to say I was out of employment and ask her if she could do anything for me—he made an appointment for 6 o'clock the next night between Wellington House and Stanhope Gate; he said, "I will be there at 6 o'clock every night until you have done the job"—I did not go to 15, Chapel Street—I kept the appointment next night and told him that I saw a servant coming out of the house to post a letter, and that I had asked her if she was posting it to her lover and that she had said that she was posting it to Prince of Wales Hotel, Harrogate, where her mistress was—that was an invention; I had not seen any servant—he said, "That was very clever of you. You had better go to Harrogate at once and take a friend with you"—he said, "Where will you do it: in the train of the hotel? Doing it in the hotel would be best. I will go and get you some money"—he went indoors and came out and gave me £6 in gold and told me to go to Harrogate at once and stay at the Prince of Wales Hotel—he told me to meet him between Stanhope Gate and Wellington House at 6 p.m.; he said he would be there every night till I came back"—I met a friend of mine named Harvey, who was a tailor out of employment—I took him to "Gardiner's, Knightsbridge, and I bought two overcoats and paid a guinea each for them—I never went to Harrogate—we then got into a cab and went to the Tivoli Music Hall—I next went to Mrs. Watt at 15, Chapel Street, with Harvey—I saw her and had some conversation with her—on the day following Harvey and I went to Mrs. Watt's solicitors, Messrs. Russell, and we made a statement there to Mr. O'Malley—this is my statement, which was taken down in writing and signed by me in the name of "James Howes "(Produced)—we got 10s. each—Harvey made a statement, but he would not sign it—I saw the prisoner next between Wellington House and Stanhope Gate, but I did not speak to him—Harvey who was with me, spoke to him, and on coming back to me showed me a sovereign—on the night after I and Harvey were again in Hyde Park—I had given him an empty bottle labelled "Chloroform" which I got from a

chemist in King's Cross Road—I saw him go up to the prisoner and saw him speak to him, having the bottle in his hand—I saw the prisoner after that, but I never spoke to him—later I paid a second visit to Mrs. Watt's house and I was told to come back in half an hour's time—I returned—I was alone, but I had somebody waiting for me—whilst having a conversation with Mrs. Watt, Detective Tanner came and arrested me and took me to the Gerard Road police station—I then made a statement to Inspector Hayter, which was taken down in writing, I signing it in the name of James Shuttle, which is my real name—I am known by one or two names to the police—this is the statement (Produced)—I was sent to prison in March, 1904, for assault, two months afterwards, which I served at Pentonville—two or three days before I came out, which was on May 27th, 1904, I wrote a letter addressing it to "Mr. H. Watt, 20, Albert Gate, Knights-bridge," and handed it to the warder in accordance with the prison rule—letters are always opened.

GEORGE CLARK . I am principal warder at Pentonville—Shuttle was confined from March 28th to May 27th, 1904—he wrote a letter—a record is kept of all the addresses of the letters which are sent out for the purpose of posting—it is the duty of the principal warder of each division to make an entry showing who the addresses of the letters were—Shuttle was in my division, so it would be my duty to read the letter, enter it, and see that it was sent—turning to my record, I find on May 24th, 1904, he wrote a letter; the entry here is, "17217," the man's registered number when he was in prison: "J. Shuttle. Friend's name: Mr. H. Watt; to whom addressed: "20, Albert Gate, Knightsbridge"—I having read the letter, it would in the ordinary course go to the Governor or Deputy Governor to "be initialled, and then it would be handed out to the officer to post—it is impossible to keep a record of the letters that are posted. [The learned Judge intimated that that, on such evidence, was not sufficient to allow of the contents being read.)

Cross-examined. If there is anything wrong in the letter I underline it and submit it to the Governor or Deputy Governor, and he would exercise his own discretion.

Re-examined. If the Governor rejected the letter for any reason, the prisoner would he had down in front of him and he would tell him why he objected, and he would have the privilege of re-writing the letter or the letter would be suppressed—if that letter had been suppressed and he had written another one that which had been suppressed would be pinned in the man's prison record—there is no suppressed letter pinned in Shuttle's record—there would be an entry in this book to the effect that the letter was suppressed, and there is no such entry in connection with Shuttle.

JAMES SHUTTLE (Further examined). I did not see or hear anything more of the letter—after I came out I went to Kelly's Library, Shaftesbury Avenue, to make some inquiries—there was no letter for me there—I did not see or hear anything more of the prisoner until August this year—I read in the newspapers something in connection with him and I went to see Mr. O'Malley at Messrs. Russell's office and asked if he wanted me—

I then went to see Sergeant Fowler at Scotland Yard, where I made a statement which was reduced into writing and signed by me in the name of James Shuttle, the date being August 28th—this is the document I signed (Produced).

Cross-examined. The last time I was in prison was May 27th, 1904—between that date and August 28th I made no attempt to see or communicate with the prisoner—I have known Worley on and off for years knocking about Knightsbridge with his stall—I was looking for work; I was not loafing about the streets—I had not been in the habit of going to the same coffee house with Worley; I have been in a coffee house while he has been there, but not regularly—I never told him what I was doing for a living, and he never asked me—he never said he missed me during some of the times when I went to prison—I do not know that he thought I was quite a respectable member of society—he knew I had to get my living somehow—he might have known that I was making my living by thieving; I never made any disguise of it—for fifteen months I have been living an honest life—it was not through Worley that I went to see the prisoner in January, 1904; I went to Worley in 1904, and I asked him the gentleman's name and he said, "You know; it is Mr. Watson," as I understood him—up to that time I did not know his name—I asked Worley in 1902, and he would not tell me—if I had asked the prisoner his name he would not have told me; I did not ask him—in 1904 I understood his name was Watson until I had a look in the directory—I appreciate that this interview in 1904 is almost precisely the same as I had with the prisoner In 1902—at the conclusion of my evidence at the police Court on September 22nd after I had been speaking of the interviews in 1902, I concluded with, "That finished what I had to do with Mr. Watt and Tom"—that had no reference to my account of the interview in which I said I had been to Harrogate and the prisoner said that I was a liar and gave me a sovereign—that concluded my dealings with the prisoner—T kept the sovereign on that occasion—I had agreed to go halves with Worley, but I had all that sovereign—in January, 1904, I apparently was a complete stranger to him—he did not ask me who "Tom" was—I am sure "done in" was his expression; I knew that it meant murder—it might be an expression used by criminal classes—as to the chloroform, both in 1902 and 1904 he said, "The best thing to do her in with is to get some operating chloroform"—he did not ask me in 1902 how much the chloroform would cost—in 1904, on his inquiring, I am quite sure I said it might cost £5, or words to that effect—I said before the Magistrate that I said "15s. or a sovereign"—I said a sovereign to the best of my recollection—there was nothing about a jemmy in 1904—in 1902 he said I was to square the chambermaid so as to get into Mrs. Watt's room—I have said before the Magistrate that, in 1904, he asked me whether I was going to do it in the train or in the hotel when telling me to go to Harrogate—in 1902 he did not ask to see the chloroform And jemmy that I said I had bought—he trusted me implicitly and took my word as a gentleman—in 1904 I got some money from him, but I did not share it with Worley, as he had nothing to do with it then—I had

nobody in 1904 with whom I shared the money—I gave Harvey a few shillings, but not much—I knew that Worley got the letter that I sent to Harrogate to be posted to him, because he showed it to me—I have not heard Worley say that he never received it—I do not know where Harvey is now—I do not think he does any stealing—his father has got plenty of money—he is twenty-six or twenty-seven—I saw him last in March this year, and I have not seen him since—in January, 1904, when we first went to Mrs. Watt's, we got half a sovereign each—my convictions began in 1894, my first being for stealing from my brother's house; the next in 1900, for stealing behind a bar, where I was employed as a barman; another for stealing from a person in a cab; one in 1901 for stealing from furnished lodgings, and in July of that year one for robbing a person in the street of a watch and chain; we had all been drinking and there was a friend with me who helped in that robbery—he is leading an honest life now—I said before the Magistrate, "My pal has done nothing since; it broke his heart"—in September, 1903, I was again convicted of attempted robbery of somebody in the street—on that occasion I gave the name of my friend, James Harvey—in March, 1904, I was convicted for assaulting a man who owed me some money; I gave him a hiding because he would not pay me—at Gerard Road I made an accusation against a woman of stealing my watch and chain and I had her locked up; for how long I do not know, and I do not care—it was not a false charge—I did not appear to prosecute her, because I was going to a race meeting the next day to back some winners, and for no other purpose—I know now that she was remanded in custody for a week—I did not say I was going down to the race meeting to get watches and chains; I said, "Also to see what I could find. I did not find anything. They did not catch me that time"—I had a watch and chain at that time—I was not living with my brother—I gave my brother's address when charging this woman—I said at the Police Court, with regard to the prisoner, "All I was after was money, and that was all Worley was after, I suppose"—I was not going to do murder; I went to get money—I did not go to Mrs. Watt the first time to get money; I went to warn her of her life—the last time I went to get money—I got altogether 30s. from her.

Re-examined. I am about thirty—before September 22nd, when I made the statement before the Police Magistrate, ending with the words, "That finished what I had to do with Mr. Watt and with Tom," I had made my statement at Scotland Yard on August 28th [MR. AVORY said that in putting the question he was only drawing attention to the fact that what the witness had to do with Mr. Watt and Tom ended in 1902, so far as the combination of Mr. Watt and Worley was concerned, and that he did not suggest that the witness had never said before that something happened in 1904. The COURT intimated to MR. MATHEWS that if there was anything in the witness's statement to the police on August 28th showing that Worley was in any way concerned with it in 1904, he could use it]—I said in my statement on August 28th, "I then had nothing more to do with Watt till January, 1904, when I saw Tom at Walham Green and I spoke to him—Worley had nothing to do with it in 1904, except that I got his address from him.

CHARLES O'MALLEY . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Charles Russell &Co., solicitors, of 37, Norfolk street, Strand—for a great many years Mr. Russell has acted as solicitor to Mrs. Julia Watt, and on her behalf conducted the divorce petition of 1901 and the libel action, in reference to which the date of judgment in the House of Lords was April 3rd this year—it has been re-entered, on May 22nd, and is waiting for trial in the present week's list—the decree nisi being made on March 5th,. 1903, no application has been made since to make it absolute—on January 16th, 1904, Shuttle and another man, who gave his name as Harvey, came to the office, and Shuttle made a statement which I took down in writing and he signed—I knew through Mrs. Watt that they were coming—this is the statement Shuttle made, when he posed in the name of "James Howes"—Harvey also made a statement, but he refused to sign it—I think his address is part of the statement—I gave them 10s. each—not long after, owing to a communication I received from Mrs. Watt, I communicated with the police at the Gerard Road police station, from whom I received a report with another document—no further action was taken at that time.

Cross-examined. No action was ever taken either by myself or the police upon those statements—I do not recollect that either the prisoner or his solicitors were informed of them—it is possible my principal may have made the communication—the prisoner put in an answer to Mrs. Watt's petition for divorce in 1901 on the ground of cruelty and adultery—to my recollection he did not instruct counsel—in 1895 there was a petition for divorce on the grounds of cruelty and adultery, which suit was defended and tried by a Jury—the Jury found that the charges of cruelty were not established—Mrs. Watt's third petition the prisoner did not defend; formal appearance was entered, but no appearance at the trial—since the decree nisi there have been negotiations going on between the prisoner and Mrs. Watt from time to time with a view to a settlement of the differences between them, and these negotiations being renewed at the end of August or September—they had stopped some months before that.

By the COURT. They stopped some months and were then renewed at the latter end of August or September of this year.

Re-examined. I made no communication to the prisoner or his solicitors, and I have no recollection of any communication being made from the office—the renewal of the negotiations would be after the prisoner was charged in the case.

CATHERINE RICE . I am the wife of William Rice, a printer, and am a sister of Worley—I live now at 7, East Street, Theobald's Road, but used to live at No. 2, where my brother used to visit me from time to time—he had letters addressed to him there, and I saw them when they arrived and when they had been opened—the envelope was written in ink, and the inside was written in black lead pencil—the envelope was of commercial size, and it was a small slip of paper inside—I gave them to my brother when he arrived. [MR. AVORY objected to the witness giving contents of the letters, which objection was upheld by the COURT.]

LOUIS SEELING . I live at Hillsborough, Ascot, and Mrs. Watt is my wife's sister—in July my wife and I were staying at White Hall, Hampton Court, an hotel—Mrs. Watt was staying there at the same time, but she was on her own—looking at my diary, I see that Mrs. Watt arrived on August 2nd at White Hall; on August 25th Mrs. Watt and my wife left by the 2.20 train for Harrogate from King's Cross; on September 26th went up to Harrogate by the 1.40 train and found my wife still there, but Mrs. Watt had left; October 28th, 29th, and 30th I went to Howard's Hotel to make a call on Mrs. Watt and I saw her there—on March 2nd, 1903, Mrs. Watt came and stayed with me at Ascot, remaining till April 27th—this is a photograph of her taken, I should think, at least twenty-five years ago.

ANNIE MORTIMER . I am the manageress of the Howard Hotel, Norfolk Street, Strand, and I have the hotel books here—I know Mrs. Watt—turning to my books for October 22nd, 1902, I find she was staying at the hotel from October 22nd to November 11th, 1902, and again from January 24th, 1903, to February 9th, 1903.

ARTHUR MARTIN . I am an assistant to Mr. Young, pawnbroker, of King's Road, Chelsea—turning to my book (Produced), I see on January 14th, 1904, that a pair of men's boots were pledged on that day for 1s. 6d. by a female in the name of "May Till, of 10, Manor Street, Chelsea"—they were redeemed on January 8th.

By the COURT. They were "men's boots" so described.

HUGH ROSS . In January, 1904, I was in the employment of Gardiner &Co., tailors, of Knightsbridge—I produce a bill dated January 14th, 1904, which says that we sold two overcoats for a guinea each, I believe, to the same person, who paid cash at the time.

WILLIAM HOWES . I am a gardener—I used to have a son named Henry William Alfred Howes, who was in the prisoner's service in 1890 and 1891—the prisoner was then living at 101, St. George's Square, I think—my son went into the Army, went to India and died in India in 1898.

ELLEN THOMPSON . I was formerly in the service of Mrs. Watt at 15, Chapel Street, from November, 1903, to January, 1904—a man I have heard in the name of Shuttle came to the house in January, 1904—I do not think anyone was with him—I forget whether he saw Mrs. Watt that time or not—he came two days later, and I showed him into the morning room—I think he saw Mrs. Watt on that occasion.

TOM TANNER (Sergeant, Metropolitan Police). On January 30th, 1904, I received a communication, in consequence of which I went to 15, Chapel Street, about 6 p.m., when I saw Mrs. Watt, who made a communication to me—I waited in the house until Shuttle arrived—he went into the dining room on the ground floor, where Mrs. Watt went also—I stayed outside the door, which was partly open, and I heard some conversation—I went into the room—I took Shuttle, whom I knew and who knew me, to the Gerard Road police station, where he was seen by Inspector Hayter.

HENRY HAYTER (Pensioned Inspector B.) In January, 1904, I was in charge of the Detective Department of the B Division—on January 22nd, 1904, I received a communication through a firm of solicitors and I saw Mrs. Watt, to whom certain instructions were given—Tanner was one of my officers at that time—on January 30th I went to Gerard Road police station, where I saw Tanner and Shuttle—Shuttle made a statement to me, which I wrote down at the time and read over to him and he signed it; this is it (Produced)—a day or two afterwards I had an appointment at Messrs. Russell's office, but the person with whom I had the appointment did not attend there.

H. FOWLER (Further examined). I have seen the prisoner write several times—I have seen the two original telegrams produced by the Post Office, purporting to have been sent by the prisoner, and to the best on my belief they are in his handwriting—I have seen Lightfoot write on more than one occasion—I have seen two telegrams produced here, purporting to be in the handwriting of Lightfoot, and to the best of my belief they are in his handwriting.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "These ridiculous charges are baseless, and were put forward originally for the purpose of blackmail,"

JESSIE WEEKS (Recalled. Cross-examined by MR. AVORY). I said on Saturday that I had been with Mrs. Clarke for two years and nine months—she was about thirty-seven—Mrs. Clarke engaged me—I was firs asked to fix the date of any visit of 'the prisoner and Lady Violet to Mrs. Clarke's by Sergeant Fowler last Saturday week—I have no particular reason for remembering the visit.

Re-examined. There were three visits altogether over the whole period—the first Christmas I was at Maidenhead I saw the prisoner—the next time was on a Sunday; I do not know when—it was in the winter time, I think—the third visit was in September.

Tuesday, December 19th.

T. TANNER (Further examined by the Court). In the conversation which I overheard between Shuttle and Mrs. Watt I did not hear any demand for money—I took him to the station to take a statement from him—I said he would have to come along with me, as his conduct was suspicious—I meant suspicious in the extraordinary story he was telling.

J. KIGHTFOOT (Further cross-examined). I think I know this paper called the "Hull Daily News "(Produced)—I see a paragraph headed "The Lucky Compositor "; it is supposed to refer to me—I have read it before to-day, but I did not see it at the time it was published—I cannot say how long after it was published I knew of it—that paper says it is the result of an interview between me and somebody else, but I do not think that is right—I had an interview, but I cannot say it was with a representative of that paper; if I did, it has slipped my memory—a report got about that I, John Kirtley Lightfoot, had just inherited £56,000 from my grandfather, but I did not set it about—I never told anybody that, but I know it has got about, because I had some money—I did not tell this interviewer that I had been away two and a half months in France, Spain, and Italy; I do not remember any such interview [MR. AVORY indicated

a gentleman in the well of the COURT]—I do not remember that gentleman at all (Extract of paragraph read): "I have been away two and a half months in France, Spain, and Italy, in each of which countries my grandfather had property and mining shares. I find I have become the owner of £35,"/50 in land, bills, etc., £17,375 cash in the bank, and £3,000 in shares. This is not the whole of the fortune, but with the property being in three countries, Genoa, Bilbae, France, it has taken a longer time transferring it to me. I have to come up to London to see about the final transference of it"—I cannot remember saying that to him—I know there was a report got about to that effect, and I never contradicted it—I had a few hundred pounds in my pocket, you see—I admit that I encouraged the statement because I hadn't got the heart to contradict it—after your having told me where the interview took place, I cannot now recollect it—I admit I was in Hull at this time, March 13th, 1905, for a short while; I had just come back from France—the money I had with me was seen and there were reports about it even before I got to Hull (Further extract read): "Mr. Kirtley Lightfoot was born thirty-eight years ago near Berwick-on-Tweed and was one of two sons"—I never remember telling anyone that; I was not born near Berwick-on-Tweed, and I am one of four sons—" He was brought up at Edinburgh, his father being a newspaper proprietor"—I did not tell him that, but my father all the same was editor of a newspaper, but not in Edinburgh—" His brother died two years ago when with him on a visit to Ramsgate"—I did not tell him that, but my brother all the same did die at Ramsgate, not two years ago, fourteen years ago—" And his father and two uncles being also dead, he became his grandfather's sole heir. He previously had a small fortune, but this he lost by an unfortunate speculation on the advice of a solicitor"—to my knowledge I never told any of this to anybody in Hull at this period—" It was for this reason that he came to Hull during the printers' dispute and took employment with Messrs. W. Kirk & Sons, printers, Chapel Lane"—I acknowledge that is well known; that is where I changed my name from Lightfoot to Kirtley—I was thoroughly hard up and I was a non-Unionist man—" About November I got the first letter, and it came as a great surprise, for I had expected that my grandfather had been dead twenty years. He went out to France fifty years ago, when he was about thirty years of age. I can remember sitting on his knee as a boy seven years old when he paid a visit to Scotland"—I never said that, to my knowledge, although I do remember similar things—I do not think I could have forgotten it if it did take place, but I question whether it ever did take place—I represented that it did take place, but I may have forgotten it—I admit, that on that same day March 13th, I had an interview with a representative of the "Daily Mail," but I did not tell him the same story; he said he supposed so-and-so about me, and I did not contradict it; it had got so far about—I am not aware that he asked me what my legacy consisted of, nor that I said, "Money and property mostly in Genoa, Bilbao, the south of France, and a little in Paris, but not much"—I think all this was a hoax on me by the people, because I had money in

my pocket; the report got about and I never contradicted it—I admit that I saw it in the papers, and I did not contradict it (Further extract read from the "Hull Daily News "): "No, I am not married, although the news had evidently leaked out whilst I was in Spain, and a lady there threw herself very much in my way, and she was a beautiful woman too "—he never asked me, "Is there a lady to share your fortune?"and I did not reply—I think that gentleman has had a conversation with someone else; that is my honest opinion—I do not remember him no this card (Produced); I never saw a card like that, to my knowledge—I am quite willing to own up to it if I got it; I owned up to the other for.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that after being in business for fifteen years as a shipbroker in Glasgow, he entered Parliament for the Camlachie Division of that town; that he left Parliament in 1892, and, after liquidating his business, retired; that in 1880 he married Mrs. Watt, who obtained a judicial separation from him in 1895; that in 1901 there was a settlement between them, in which both parties abandoned all legal proceedings and in which he settled certain property on her which was to vest in the survivor; that Mrs. Watt had not carried out the agreement, but since that date till August, 1905, he had been endeavouring to put an end to all the disputes; that Mrs. Watt had obtained a decree nisi against him in 1903,which she had never made absolute; that on August 4th, 1904, he had called on her with a view to getting her to sign a document he had drawn up stating that in consideration of £600a year, which he would allow her for life, she would consent to make the decree absolute, and give up the settlement of 1901, and all legal disputes were to be settled between them, but that she refused to do so, her conduct being such that he applied for a summons for assault against her the same day at the Westminster Police Court; that the friction arose purely between Mrs. Watt and Lady Violet, with whom he was living, and he endeavoured to act as an intermediary as far as he could; that for the purpose of getting things in trim for a settlement of all disputes he consulted Mr. Bicknell, a solicitor, who introduced him to Mr. Sweeney, to whom Mr. Bicknell gave instructions to get all the disputes settled, he (the prisoner) not to interfere at all; that Mr. Sweeney introduced him to Marshall, who drew up the agreement which, after interlining the words, "And a settlement of all disputes," he signed; that he should not have done so had he known that Mr. Sweeny was going to leave town; that Mr. Bicknell also having left town, he was left with Marshall as the sole agent in the matter; that on August 11th, the date of his signing, the agreement, Marshall telephoned him that he had learnt Mrs. Watt had decided to go to Ostend, on which he (the prisoner) said that he did not believe it and that if that was the sort of information he was going to be given he would give him forty-eight hours to finish the inquiry; that this led to a stormy interview, and Marshall called upon him the same evening and offered to follow Mrs. Watt for £250under certain circumstances, but he refused to pay it; that Marshall told him from the result of the interview he had had with Mrs. Watt he thought he could get her to sign the agreement but that he (the prisoner) said the situation would be met if she left London, and had he known she was doing so he would not have employed him, and they had better end it; that also on that occasion Marshall informed

him that Mrs. Watt had a bill on her house, "To Let"; that the interview ended by his practically having to put Marshall out; that on the 14th Marshall telephoned him saying that he had received a telegram from Mrs. Watt to him addressed "Ken-Lane, 5, Hangers Lane, Baling" making an appointment for him to see her and arranging to call on him (the prisoner) afterwards to report results; that he saw him that day in the library, when Marshall informed him that Mrs. Watt seemed to be changed and would not discuss the agreement; that he was still in hopes of getting her to sign, but he must have money; that he gave him £10, saying that Mr. Bicknell had advised him to pay him only out-of-pocket expenses, which was the fact, but that Marshall said that that was no good to him and that he had now learnt that Mrs. Watt was going on a motor trip; that he said he equally disbelieved that, and refused to allow him to follow her, again repeating what he had said, that if the left town there would be an end to the friction between the two ladies, and said, "Your reports appear to me to be absolute fiction and you must go"; that on Marshall inquiring what the "funny" bottle he saw lying on his roll top desk was, he told him it was chloroform that he had obtained from Dr. Blake, of Putney, who had been attending Lady Violet; that he had got that originally for some experimental purposes for a gentleman who was offering him a patent; that there was also some other chloroform on the desk which he had had some time and which his wife used for her neuralgia; that on the 12th and 14th Marshall showed him two scurrilous post cards which he concluded came from his wife, on which Marshall said that if that was so he could get her twelve months, but that he (the prisoner) said he wished nothing of the sort; that on giving certain particulars to him Marshall said he could trace the writer; that he gave them to him and did not get them back, and then with difficulty, till the 17th; that during this time Lady Violet was in a little room leading out of the library; that on the next day Marshall came again at 5p.m. and saw him in the library when Lady Violet was again in the small room; that Marshall said that he had seen Mrs. Watt again, but that it seemed hopeless, and asked him again if he could follow on a motor car and he said "No "; that he said it depended upon when she let her house as to when she left England; that he (the prisoner) said it would be a good thing to get her to sign the agreement before she left; that he said, "It seems to me the purpose of my employment of you has been met; at all events, you apparently can do nothing, therefore you may consider yourself released as far as my employment is concerned "; that he had already practically dismissed him on the 15th, but in spite of that Marshall telephoned him that he had the most important information which was too long to tell by telephone; that he did not see him on the 16th but went to see him on the 17th to hear what the important information was; that he (the prisoner) said to Marshall. "What is your important information?"; that Marshall said, "What information do you mean?" that he said, "What you have telephoned me about to call and hear "; that Marshall seemed surprised and said, "I have no information; I have with drawn my agent in terms of your instructions"; that Marshall said, "What can you expect from £10?"that he (the prisoner) said he had done nothing to earn his money and rose hurriedly and dashed to the door, throwing it open; that he saw no one outside; that he (the prisoner) went home and sent word

to Marshall to send his account in; that at no time did he ever propose to Marshall about murdering Mrs. Watt; that he never mentioned Dr. Blake's name to Marshall; that it was untrue he ever told Marshall that he had hit Mrs. Watt with his hand; that he asked Worley to find out where Mrs. Watt was, as he wished to call and inquire how she was; that there was no truth in what Worley had said as to his wishing to injure Mrs. Watt or anybody else; that he never wrote to Worley; that he never gave him a stick, or a photograph of Mrs. Watt, as he had not one; that he never, to his knowledge ever saw Shuttle; that he could not say whether he ever received a letter from anyone who was in prison, as he received thousands of begging letters; that Lightfoot first wrote to him; that he had received hundreds of letters since the case was first published in the papers; that he sent the important ones on to Mr. Palmer; that he sent one of August 27th writing on it. "Dear Sir,—You might write this man. Have very many kind letters from all parts; not one against H.W."; that there was no truth in Lightfoot's story as to drawing up a statement; that Lightfoot came to him and said he could give evidence; that he (the prisoner) said he had plenty of proposals from people, but all they wanted was money; that Lightfoot said he was not a "sponger"; that he said he had not had anything to eat and he.(the prisoner) gave him something; that Lightfoot said he was leaving for Canada and that he (the prisoner) said it might be possible to interpolate his evidence; that Lightfoot never was asked to dine with them, but that as he (the prisoner) was going out with Lady Violet, Lightfoot followed them, and so he (the prisoner) asked him to have something; that it was quite untrue what Lightfoot had said as to his (the prisoner) making signs or winks to him at Mr. Palmer's office; that up to the time Lightfoot recanted his evidence, he (the prisoner) believed it was quite true; and that he (the prisoner) went to Maidenhead to find Abrahams, as Abrahams owed him a considerable sum of money. In cross-examination the prisoner stated that he never mentioned a fruiterer's business to Lightfoot and that Ball must have told him that; that Ball mentioned at the Police Court that he (the prisoner) was selling all his effects and was going to abscond; that Ball mentioned the fruiterer's business in Court and that Lightfoot was in Court and must have heard it; that he never said to Marshall that he had given £2,000to Bernard Abrahams to murder Mrs. Watt; that on the occasion when Lightfoot and Bernard Abrahams were in his house together he did not introduce them, and that he at no time mentioned his name to Lightfoot; that to the best of his recollection the last time he saw or heard from Bernard Abrahams was on September 21st and that he did not know where he was now; that he had only paid Worley a shilling or two for conveying his messages; that he had never come to his house, nor had he seen him in the park' and that he saw him at his stall when he wanted to know the answer to his messages; that, in fact, the chloroform he obtained from Dr. Blake never was used for experimental purposes; that Maloney must have misunderstood him in saying that he said he was a bit of a pugilist; that he never said he would get Mrs. Watt into Pentonville; that on thinking it over and on consulting Lady Violet he believed that Marshall had called for a few minutes on Saturday, August 12th; that he could not remember whether over the telephone he told Marshall that the

assault on Lady Violet was at the instigation of Mrs. Watt; that he did not tell Marshall on the 17th to bring Mrs. Watt to his house; that he knew she would not come, nor did Marshall ever suggest it to him, the only suggestion being for him to go with Marshall to see her, of which he did not see the feasibility; that he denied all Marshall's account of the conversation between them on the 17th; that on leaving Marshall's office he got home at 11.30 without delaying on the way; that on the 15th, on his refusing Marshall the £250, on going out he mumbled something about making it hot for him; that what led him to make the remarks he did when arrested was that at the first rush he thought Mrs. Watt had something to do with it. In re-examination he stated that he had never dreamt of any such charge being made against him; that prior to Bernard Abraham's bankruptcy in 1899 he had advanced him £1,300 on what he believed to be ample security, and that he had no reason to suppose that he was in any way a discreditable character; that when Bernard Abrahams was in prison he instructed a solicitor to get some assignments executed which were part of the security; that on his coming out of prison Abrahams gave him to understand that he could pay off the debt by instalments, and that is why, together with his knowing something about Marshall, he kept his connection up with him; that Abrahams had given certain information about Marshall, which had been very valuable in the case, but beyond making researches as to Marshall and giving information he had had nothing to do with this case; that there was no interview at which Light foot was present when any person representing himself to be Lord Kinloch or Rufus Isaacs was present. [The Foreman said that the Jury took it that they must rely entirely on Lightfoot's evidence as regards the meeting with the prisoner in the park to which the COURT assented.

Evidence for the Defence,

JULIA CHARLOTTE MARIA, LADY WATT . I have taken the name of Lady Watt by deed-poll—I have been living at 72, Knightsbridge, since March, 1892—I was married to the prisoner by the Registrar at Brighton after full discovery of all the circumstances to him [The Judge intimated that the Registrar's conduct should be inquired into. MR. AVORY stated that the Registrar had acted only after reference to headquarters]—the prisoner is very regular in his habits; he receives people on business between 9 and 10 a.m. and 5 and 6 p.m.—we always dined out, leaving the house about 6 p.m., or a little after, dining generally at the Monico restaurant—on August 25th we dined at that restaurant at 6 p.m., Mr. Church being with us—we remained there till 9 or a little after, the prisoner remaining in our company the whole time, when we returned home—after that time Lightfoot was never in my company in the presence of any person calling himself "Lord Kinloch," or "Lord Kintore" or any person calling himself "Rufus Isaacs"—there is no truth in his story that I ever sat down to dinner with him in my house at Knightsbridge in company with Lord Kintore, or anybody else—I remember the luncheon which has been spoken of at Searcy's restaurant on September 22nd, about 2 p.m.—we did not invite Lightfoot to lunch; he followed us down the street and sat down with us—that is the only occasion on which he sat

down to a meal with me—there was never any interview between him and any person calling himself "Rufus Isaacs," "Lord Kintore, or anything like that—I know a man named Bernard Abrahams by sight—there was never any interview between him and Lightfoot in which the evidence Lightfoot was going to give was discussed—the prisoner and I frequently go to Maidenhead, and I have been with him on two or three occasions when he has called upon Bernard Abrahams there—I was present on one occasion when I saw a Mrs. Clarke—we were there a few minutes on business—there never was any discussion at all about Lightfoot's evidence—we were dining in that week to Friday, August 25th, at the same hour [The statement made by Lightfoot as to one of the reasons why he had committed perjury was then handed to the witness]—this is a gross fabrication of lies and most libellous—[The COURT ordered the document to be re-sealed]—I remember the prisoner employing Marshall and the arrangement made—I only heard him when he called at the house on August 11th—I was in the library when he called on the 14th and I went out from there into a small room, the door of which opens into the library—I left that door open—Marshall did not see me in the library; I went into this little room before he came in—I retired in the same way when he came in on the 15th—on each of these occasions I overheard the conversation between him and the prisoner, and at neither was anything said by the prisoner proposing to murder Mrs. Julia Watt; not a word was suggested that she was to be chloroformed and Dr. Blake was to be called in, who would certify death to be heart disease, and so on—I heard Marshall ask the prisoner for £250—the excuse for that was to settle this agreement—I heard a reference made by the prisoner to the agreement—I had seen that document myself—at the time that reference was made to that document I saw Marshall take up a bottle and heard him say, "What is in that bottle?"—the door was not so far shut that I could not see; I saw perfectly—the prisoner said that was chloroform he had for inventive purposes, but I was to use it if I wanted it for different pains I have in the head—on the 15th Marshall again asked for £250 and the prisoner said, "No, I will not give you £250"—then Marshall went to the door and said, "If you do not give me £250, I will make it hot for you "; I heard those words—on the 16th I was in the hall when a telephone message came—there is a double receiver on the telephone, and I heard with one and the prisoner with the other—it was from Marshall, who said that he would like to see the prisoner, as he had something to tell him—the prisoner went away the next morning at 10.45 and returned home at 11.30 a.m., when he made a communication to me about Marshall—at 11.30 a.m. I heard him telephone Marshall to send in his account.

Cross-examined. My attention was not drawn to the date of August 25th till September—I do not remember when Lightfoot went into the box in Marlborough Street and recanted—if he did so on October 12th, my attention could not have been drawn to this date before that date—I do not keep a diary—we had been dining for a long time at the Monico; I should say from last January or February every night when we were in town; I cannot swear to every night—we have dined at very many places

besides the Monico, the Cecil, Prince, and the Savoy—I think we dined once at the Criterion, but it is a long time ago now; I should say that during the last year we have dined only at the Monico, from last January—we were in London from January to August, except when away for week-ends sometimes, but with those exceptions we have dined every night at the Monico down to the present date; almost invariably leaving the house about 6 or 6.15 p.m., the dinner lasting until perhaps 8 or 9—we dined at the Monico on August 24th—my memory had not to be revived as to who dined with us on the 26th—we did not often have people, and I remember the people who dine with us well—I have carried that in my memory—on August 26th we dined at the Monico—the prisoner and I went to Maidenhead, but not for the purpose of calling on Bernard Abrahams—I cannot remember when we called on him last; I think it was the end of August; I cannot remember whether it was September 17th—I am not sure whether it was a Sunday—we got back to dine at the Monico on the day we saw him—I have spoken to him—a long time ago I paid visits to him at Maidenhead with the prisoner—some time ago on his introduction I met Mrs. Clarke—I should say I have seen him two or three times at Maidenhead—some time this year, I cannot quite remember when, I saw him at Knightsbridge; some time in the autumn, I think, later than September—I have been very ill and I cannot remember all these things—I have no reason for fixing that as the time he came—he came with a message of business from Mr. Freke Palmer—I cannot say whether this was after or before the last visit to him at Maidenhead—on that day Lightfoot was in the hall, but he had no conversation with Abrahams; he passed into another room; Lightfoot was not there with him—I was in the hall at the time—they were not together in the hall—Abrahams remained in the house for a few minutes—Lightfoot was in the hall and Abrahams went through the hall, but did not speak to Lightfoot at all—the door opened and Lightfoot came into the hall—I was in the library at that moment the first time he came—the prisoner was at the door and brought him into the library; he said, "There is a man called 'Battle'. Would you see him?" and I said, "Bring him in; what does he want?"—he remained only a few minutes in the library—I believe he had a little cold meat, as he said he was hungry and had come a long way—he went downstairs, I believe, to have it—he had some cold meat, the remains of the servants', I believe—I do not think it was a pie—how many servants I had has nothing to do with this case—we had one or two; I forget now—I think it was two then—we had none who slept upon the premises—I mean women servants; we may have had one and we may have had two—I think the prisoner went down when Lightfoot was having his meal—he came up when he had finished and I saw him and spoke to him—he le't about 4.40 p.m.; I think he came at 4 p.m.—I should say he was there about twenty minutes—he handed me a document, which I looked at—I had heard about it already, because he had sent it some weeks before to Mr. Freke Palmer—I recognised the document he handed to me; it was recording that he had overheard a conversation—no more conversations occurred there between anybody—

I believe he said something about going to Canada, but I cannot remember much about that—I did not go to Maidenhead the day after his visit—I saw him when he came to the house the next Wednesday—it was my suggestion that he should be put up for the night—I cannot be quite certain whether I saw him on the Thursday when he came—if Thursday was the day when Bernard Abrahams came; I was there—I have never lunched with Bernard Abrahams anywhere, nor with a dark gentleman, Jewish in appearance—I saw Lightfoot when he came at 9 a.m. on Saturday—I had no conversations with Lightfoot and I never made any statement to him about the violence of the officers who had come to search the premises—I never said in his hearing that in consequence of their violence I had had a miscarriage—I would not speak to a common man on those subjects—this letter is my writing—it is written to the Chief Commissioner of Police, complaining of the results of the policemen's conduct, which had caused serious injury to my health; I have been more or less ill ever since—I do not wish to get other people into trouble, but I have an idea how Lightfoot had such an idea—I cannot invent a suggestion—in my hearing no mention was ever made to Lightfoot about a fruiterer's business—on August 14th I was in the room when Marshall was announced, and, as I was in my deshabille I went into the little side room—I did not go in there to overhear Marshall and the prisoner's conversation—the door of the little room is always open—he came about 5—the conversation then was entirely about trying to get Mrs. Watt to sign the agreement—on the 15th it was that I heard Marshall say, "If you don't pay me £250 I'll make it hot"—the £250 was for his expenses, but there were no expenses—I took it to be blackmail—I do not think I knew that Marshall was coming on the 15th—I always sit in the library, but as I was not dressed at that time I went into the little room—I did not go for the purpose of listening—I had my dressing gown on at that time—it was not the sort of dress to sit in with a stranger present—I keep my things in the little room—I never think about shutting doors—on the 14th the subject of the chloroform bottle was just touched upon—Marshall picked it up and said, "What's that?" and Mr. Watt said, "Chloroform," and that was all—I think I remember something being said at one of the Marshall interviews about post-cards—I think it was said that they were funny post-cards, nothing more—there was no mention of my having been assaulted at either of those interviews—I was once pushed up against by some boys—I have not attributed that to Mrs. Watt—it was not said that the post-cards came from Mrs. Watt—the prisoner never said so—I never heard him say anything against his former wife, not to me—he has always talked nicely about her—her name was very rarely mentioned between us—I did not hear Marshall say at the August 14th interview, referring to the post-cards, "If these are your wife's I can get her twelve months"—I did not hear the prisoner say that one seemed to come from one of her clubs, nor did I hear Marshall reply, "There is a lady friend of mine at Sloane Street and I will send her up to test the machines"—I cannot remember much of what happened when the police came, as I was very much upset—I did make a communication

to the Director of Public Prosecutions as to overhearing Marshall—that was on August 21st; it was sent to his private house.

Re-examined. The first I knew of the prisoner's arrest was when a policeman came to the house and told me—I have been ill ever since.

GEORGE FREDERICK CHURCH . I am principal managing clerk to Messrs. Michael Abrahams, solicitors, of Tokenhouse Yard—I have known the prisoner for upwards of twenty years—my firm have acted for him for some years—I am acquainted with the room called "The Library" and the little room which leads off it, at 72, Knightsbridge—this little plan I have here was made by me—the dimensions are all approximate, as I had no measure with me—it shows the position of the two rooms and the position of things in it—the little room I have called "Butler's Pantry"—it is very dark in there—I was not aware of its existence till the prisoner called my attention to it—you can from that room see all that takes place in the larger room; that is with the door ajar—there is no window to the pantry—it is about 10 feet deep—I did not notice if there was any carpet on the floor—on February 1st last I had an interview with Mr. Charles Russell and telephoned to the prisoner what I had done in consequence—I remember dining at the Cafe Monico with the prisoner and Lady Violet on August 25th—while this case was on at the Police Court my firm practically controlled the work, Mr. Palmer doing it under my supervision—Lightfoot, when he was giving his recanted evidence, referred to August 25th—the prisoner is a non-smoker.

Cross-examined. I am quite certain about the 25th.

PETER JOSEPH WIERTZ . I am superintendent of the Renaissance Room and the Banquetting Department at the Monico restaurant—the prisoner and Lady Violet have been in the habit of dining there for a year past—table 30 is reserved for them—our books show when that table was occupied—the table is very seldom engaged by anyone else, because it is too near the band—on August 25th table No. 30 was engaged for three persons—I know Mr. Church by sight—he has been there with the prisoner—on the 24th that table was engaged for two; the 23rd, engaged for two—I am certain that Mr. Church dined there on the 25th—that room is never full on August 24th—on the 23rd there were only nine tables engaged out of thirty or thirty-one.

Cross-examined. The prisoner always came in with the first customers to dinner, never later than 6.30—I cannot recollect that he has ever been late.

A. BALL (Recalled by MR. BODKIN). I attended the Police Court at the various hearings of this case—I was present when Lightfoot was first examined on September 22nd—he was the first witness called—he signed his evidence and at once left the Court—I saw him go up the street—I gave no evidence that day in his hearing—on October 12th I was again present when he gave his evidence—he was put into the box within a few minutes of his arrival—after his evidence the question f the prisoner's bail arose—the police raised some question about it owing to his behaviour to the witnesses—nothing was said then in public as to the prisoner's property or as to any action he was going to take

with regard to it—Lightfoot next appeared at the Police Court on October 13th on the prosecution against himself for perjury—he was then in custody—he remained in custody up to October 17th, when he pleaded guilty here and was sentenced—it was on November 1st that I first heard of the fruiterer's business; that is, to have definite information of it—I did not get it from Lightfoot; it was from inquiries we made—there was a remand of the prisoner to November 8th—it was then that the fruiterer's business and its disposal was mentioned—Lightfoot, of course, was not there then—I have never on any occasion said anything to Lightfoot as to the fruiterer's business.

By the COURT. The Magistrate increased the bail to two sureties of £500 each instead of one of £600.

By MR. AVORY. I am prepared to swear that the increase of bail was on that same day—I cannot disclose from whom I got the information about the business.

P. J. WIERTZ (Recalled by MR. MATHEWS). Looking at my book, I find that only table 30 was engaged on Sunday, September 23rd—on Sunday, September 10th, table 30 was occupied by two people—there were two other tables engaged—on September 15th, 16th, 17th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, and 23rd, table 30 was unoccupied—I have got some dates when the prisoner dined in the grill room.

By MR. AVORY. The prisoner and Lady Violet frequently dined in the grill room—I have seen the prisoner very often there.

[The learned Judge, in his summing-up to the Jury, stated that he ruled that the evidence of Lightfoot and certain witness called in corroboration of it was admissible in this case on the well-established principle that the conduct in litigation of a party to it, if such as to lead to the reasonable inference that he disbelieves in his own case may be proved and used as evidence against him, and cited Wills on Circumstantial Evidence.]

C. O'MALLEY (Recalled by the COURT). The prisoner's solicitors reopened the negotiations at the end of August or the beginning of September—I remember my firm wrote a letter on September 25th without prejudice to the prisoner's solicitors, making a certain offer in settlement of all matters between the prisoner and Mrs. Watt, expressly excluding the criminal proceedings, but that was not the re-opening of the negotiations; it was in answer to a suggestion made by them.

By MR. MUIR. Mrs. Watt had nothing to do with the criminal proceedings.

By the COURT. That offer was never accepted.

GUILTY . Five years' penal servitude.


Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.

Old Court, December 12th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-119
VerdictGuilty > insane
SentenceImprisonment > insanity

Related Material

119. EUPHEMIA MASKELL (32) , Indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's inquisition with, the wilful murder of Sarah Ann Maskell.



MATILDA WOOD . I live at 183, Dawlish Road, Leyton, and am a midwife—on October 21st I attended the prisoner in her confinement, at 99, Park Road, when she was delivered of a female child—she went on all right and I attended her for ten mornings—I last saw her on October 31st—the child appeared to be well; it was a full-time child and a natural confinement—as far as I know, the child was not christened, but I believe it was called Sarah Ann—there was food and money in the house while I was there.

Cross-examined. The prisoner seemed fond of the child.

ROSE SWAN . I am married and live at 99, Park Road, and know the prisoner—she and her husband and three children occupied rooms in the same house where I live—they had been there for over two years, and paid 4s. a week—the prisoner's husband is a bricklayer's labourer and was in work—they all lived very happily and comfortably together—on the afternoon of November 9th I was in my kitchen when I heard a knock at the door—I went to the door and saw the prisoner, who said, "Mrs. Swan, I have cut my baby's head off"—I said, "Oh, Mrs. Maskell, do not say such a thing to me"—she said, "I have, Mrs. Swan, I have"—she asked me to go upstairs, but I did not go; I went to Mrs. Cheesman—I had seen the prisoner that day about fifteen minutes previously—I had not noticed anything about her then, but she complained of a very bad headache during the morning—in the afternoon she opened her hands and showed me that they were covered with blood—she did not say anything then—the baby was healthy.

Cross-examined. Everything had been going on all right in the house until this occurrence—I heard from the prisoner that her mother's brother had died in Banstead Asylum and that her mother had tried to poison herself with something from a bottle.

CHARLOTTE BELL . I am the wife of John William Bell, of 97, Park Road, Leyton, a cabinet maker—at 4 p.m. on November 9th from what I was told I went to 99, Park Road—I went into the middle room on the first floor, where I saw the prisoner sitting on a chair with her hands clasped and a baby lying on its right side on the floor in its nightdress—it seemed dead, but I did not go up to it—I said to the prisoner, "Oh, Mrs. Maskell, what have you done this for?"—she said, "I do not know. What will my husband say?"—she seemed very low—Mrs. Cornish came in and went for a doctor—I stayed with the prisoner until a policeman came—I saw this knife (Produced) on the table with blood on it.

Cross-examined. It is an ordinary kitchen knife; it was not hidden but simply lying on the table—she did not seem to realise what she had done.

ESTHER CORNISH . I live at 219, Church Road, Leyton—on the afternoon of November 9th I was passing down Park Road, when I saw Mrs. Swan, who called me into No. 99 and into the back room upstairs, which is the prisoner's—I saw a baby lying on the floor in a pool of blood a

the prisoner sitting on a chair with her hands folded—I asked her what made her do it and she said she did not know—I went and fetched a doctor—I returned and saw the prisoner in the same position—I do not think I had any more conversation with her until the doctor came, and then I asked her what she did it with and she pointed to a knife on the table—she said she was in debt and had some dreadful pains in her head—she did not seem to be in a right condition.

Cross-examined. I do not think she was in her right mind.

ARTHUR ALDRIDE . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 9, Manor Road, Leyton—about 4.30 p.m. on November 9th I was called to 99, Park Road—I went into the back room on the first floor and saw Mrs. Bell, Mrs. Cornish, the prisoner and the baby—the prisoner was sitting in a chair against the wall and the baby was lying face downwards on the floor in a pool of blood dead, and there was a pool of blood round its head—I asked the prisoner whether she had done it and why, and she said she did not know and did not know what her husband would say—I asked her if she had been ill since her confinement and she said she had not been ill, but had had a very bad headache—I asked her if she had taken any medicine and she said, "No"—I saw this knife on the table; it is an ordinary sharp table knife, and the blade was covered with blood—I sent for a policeman, who took the prisoner away—she was in a very depressed and melancholy condition, but physically she was practically all right—after the policeman had taken her away I examined the child and found there was an incised wound extending from the back of the neck almost to the front from left to right—I said before it was from right to left, but made a mistake—the head was nearly cut off on that side; the spinal cord was completely severed—I think when that was first severed it caused instantaneous death—the muscles of the neck were severed—the child was probably face downwards when the wound was inflicted—it could have been caused by such a knife as this—I was told the child was three weeks old, but I think it was really nineteen days—it was a female child and when I felt the body it was warm—I think the wound had been caused at the outside half an hour previously.

Cross-examined. The prisoner seemed to be rather more afraid of what her husband would say than of anything else—homicidal mania will lie dormant for some years—at Stratford I heard that one of the prisoner's uncles had died in an asylum, and assuming that to be so and that her mother tried to poison herself by drinking something from a bottle, I should say that that would be pretty strong presumptive evidence of seeds of mania being present.

ERNEST BUTT (509 J.) About 4 p.m. on November 9th I went to 99, Park Road, Leyton, and saw the prisoner and also a female child lying on the floor dead, with its head nearly severed from its body—a knife was handed to me by the doctor; it was covered with blood and hair—I told the prisoner I should take her into custody and she said, "Where are you going to take me to?"—I took her to the station, where she was detained.

SAMUEL LOVED (67 J.) On the afternoon of November 9th I saw the prisoner at Leyton police station and said to her, "What is your name?"

—she said, "Euphemia Maskell. I did not mean to do it"—a few minutes afterwards she said, "The child kept on crying and I had no food for it. I did not mean to do it"—she appeared to be depressed—I went to Park Road, where the room had been cleared up—the prisoner was afterwards taken to the infirmary in a cab.

Cross-examined. I did not look for any food and I do not know if there was any money in the house—the prisoner had 1 1/2 d. in her purse.

GEORGE WALLACE (Detective). On November 11th I went to Whipscross Infirmary and saw the prisoner and said to her, "Is your name Euphemia Maskell?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "lama police officer and shall arrest you for the willful murder of your child by cutting its neck with a knife on the 9th at 99 Park Road, Leyton. You need not say anything unless you like; what you do say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence against you"—she made no reply and I took her to the station, where she was charged and asked if she understood the charge—she said, "Yes."

Evidence for the Defence.

GEORGE HENRY HAWKINS . I live at Abbey Lane, Stratford, and am a night watchman and the prisoner's father—her mother has been dead six and a half years; she tried to strangle herself once with a towel round her neck and twisting it—it is a mistake to say she tried to poison herself—my daughter came to me in the back room and I went in and prevented my wife from strangling herself, but she was black in the face—her brother's name was William Hickery and he died at Banstead Asylum—he had been in several asylums—I do not know anything particular about any other of my wife's brothers, but they are excitable at times.

STEPHEN CROOKSHANKS (Detective). I have made inquiries about the prisoner's family—her husband was in work at the time and earning wages.

GEORGE BATHO GRIFFITHS . I have had the prisoner under my charge since November 11th, when she was admitted into the infirmary at Holloway—when she came under my care she was in a very dazed and melancholic condition and seemed to have lost complete control over her mind and could not talk connectively or give any account of herse lf and would begin a sentence and stop in the middle of it—she would lapse into a melancholic state with her hands in her lap and take no apparent notice until she was roused by a question—she did not sleep at all for some days and would not take her food and had to be fed artificially—she was violent for four or five days after she came in and tried to throw herself out of bed and damage herself, and we had two nurses with her all the time—she was moaning incessantly, and if you asked her how she was she did not answer—she apparently had delusions, seeing blood lying about—I think the delusions were real and I do not think she was feigning insanity—I have read the depositions very carefully, and from my own observation I consider she was insane at the time she came under my care and remained insane, but began to recover about November 25th—I made two reports, one on November 22nd, and at that time I thought she was irresponsible and insane—I think there was a physical cause for the increase of insanity

which was the coming on of menstruation and suppression of milk—I think the second attack which she had while under my care was partly due to that, but I do not think that was the cause of the original melancholic attack.

GUILTY of the act, but insane so as not to be responsible in law . To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K. C.

Fourth Court, December 12th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-120
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

120. GEORGE COOK (36) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 86 lbs. of lead piping belonging to the Ocean Accident Corporation, Ltd., having been convicted of felony at Chelmsford on May 24th, 1905, in the name of George Brewer . Five other convictions were proved against him. Six months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-121
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

121. JAMES MAXWELL (18) , Feloniously assaulting, together with another person, Henry Edward Brown and robbing him with violence of £2 5s. in money.

MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.

HENRY EDWARD BROWN . I am a seaman at present living at 39, Milford Road, Plaistow—on November 13th I came home from a voyage—on the 15th I cashed for £3 10s. an advance note for my wages with a man named Smith—I then went with Mr. and Mrs. Read to the Peacock in Freeman's Road—while there the prisoner came in with another man—they had never been, to my recollection, messmates of mine—they got into conversation with me—I treated them—when paying I was bound to pull out more money than was necessary to pay for what we had had, as I had only one trousers' pocket—I remained at the Peacock for about an hour—the prisoner and his companion remained the whole time—I gave them a shilling each—I asked the prisoner if he was out of a ship, knowing what it was to be out of a ship, and said, "Well, I will give you a shilling if that is any good to you"—I left with Mr. and Mrs. Read and took a tram to the Barking Road—the prisoner and his companion joined us on the tram—I paid their fare—we all got down at the Abbey Arms, Barking Road—we crossed the road and outside the Swan I asked the prisoner and his friend if they would have a drink there—they did not say "No"—I treated them and gave them another shilling and told them I wished to bid them good-night—I then went away with Mr. and Mrs. Read to Milford Road and found that we had been followed by the prisoner and his friend, who had been joined by two others—I asked Mr. Read if he would mind my asking them indoors to have a little refreshment there—at first he demurred and then said he did not mind, and I asked them in to have some supper, which we had, also a few songs—about 10 o'clock the prisoner suddenly stood up and said, "Who is going to start the game?"—I had no thought of any treachery—I said, "I think it is nearly time that we broke up, because it is not my home, and Mr. Read has to get up very early in the morning to go to work.

If you want to see me you had better come round to-morrow evening and we will have a little more enjoyment"—they stood up and thanked me for my kindness and so on—I unfortunately placed myself between the prisoner and the other man—on getting into the passage the other man suddenly turned and struck me a violent blow on the nose, then pushed me on top of the prisoner behind me, who threw his arm round my neck, caught me by the throat, and gave me the knee in the ribs, or struck or gave me a violent blow—they then' threw me on to the stairs—the prisoner tried to put his hand into my pocket—I was powerless to help myself; I could not gasp for breath—he could not get his hand in, so tried to tear the pocket out—the stuff was too strong to tear, so he tipped the money out on to the floor in the passage—the two of them made a grasp for it and one of them sang out, "Make a run for it," and they were then out of the house in a minute—I had £2 5s. in my pocket—the whole lot of it went—they never left a coin there—I next saw the prisoner at Stratford Police Court—I have not the slightest doubt he is the man who was with me that night and who caught me by the throat and committed that violence upon me—I was advised to go to the hospital, where I remained as an in-patient until November 22nd and after that as an out-patient—I believe my ribs were fractured—I could not go to sea—I am nearly well now.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. The other man was in the passage and was forcing me backwards on to you and you were forcing me on to the stairs—there were other men outside the door, but who they were I do not know—when we first went into the house there were four, two younger lads and the man you had just met—you tried to put your hand in my pocket in the passage.

ALFRED READ I live at 39, Milford Road, Plaistow, and am an engineer's labourer—about 4 p.m. on November 15th I went to the Peacock with the last witness—while there two men came in—the prisoner was one of them—they entered into conversation with the prosecutor—we left the public-house and got on a tram—the two men followed us—when we got to my house they were invited in—they remained there about an hour or seventy-five minutes—I was present when they left—Brown went into the passage—I did not go with him at that time—I saw the man not in custody strike Brown on the nose—I was sitting on, a chair looking towards the passage—Brown and the man went down in a scuffle together and I heard the clink of money—I tried to protect him and I got a blow in the eye; from which one I do not know—my daughter ran towards the door for the police when the prisoner threw her back—the prisoner and the other man ran off—Brown's face was cut across the nose—I afterwards gave information to the police—on the following Saturday night I went and identified the prisoner at the police station.

Cross-examined. I only saw you and the other man not in custody in the passage—when you first went into the house there were four of you—the other two left a little while before you and your friend—I heard the clink of money and saw you scrambling for some.

EMILY ELIZABETH READ . I am the last witness's daughter and live at 39, Milford Road, Plaistow—at 10.15 p.m. on November 15th I was in our kitchen—I had been in the room where Brown and the others were having supper—the prisoner is one of them—I have no doubt of that—there were three men with him—the other two walked out into the kitchen—the prisoner and his friend went out with Brown—I went into the passage to get a policeman—I saw the other man strike Brown on the nose—the prisoner tore Brown's pocket open—the prisoner pushed me back into the kitchen—my father interfered and got a blow in the eye—the prisoner and his friend ran out into the street—I afterwards identified the prisoner.

FLORENCE SMITH . I am the wife of Charles Smith, who is a labourer—at 3.30 p.m. on November 15th Brown came to our house with an advance note for £4—I gave him £3 10s.—I afterwards went with him and Mr. and Mrs. Read to the Peacock—I saw some men there speaking to Brown—the prisoner is one of them—Brown treated the men—I did not see him give the prisoner any money, but he gave the other man 1s.—I went out of the house for a little while—when I returned they were still there—I went away and saw no more of them that night.

Cross-examined. I never was at the Magog public-house.

JOSEPH PAYNE (Detective K.) This matter was reported to the police on Thursday, November 16th—on the 18th, at 9 a.m., I saw the prisoner and said to him," I am a police officer and I am going to take you into custody for being concerned with another man not in custody in assaulting and robbing a sailor at Milford Road, Plaistow"—he said, "Can't you leave me till Monday? I am sure to get picked out"—I refused—on the way to the station he said, "I never use violence to 'screw' a man"—at 9.45 p.m. on the 18th he was put up for identification with nine others and immediately identified by four witnesses—when charged he said, "I must be a desperate man"—I know the other man, but have been unable to find him—I live in hopes of doing so.

CHARLES ROBERT FREDERICK . I am house surgeon at Poplar Hospital—on November 16th I admitted Brown there—he had a fractured rib on the right side, and an abrasion on the nose—I kept him as an inpatient till November 22nd, and from then he was treated as an outpatient until, I think, about ten days ago—the injuries I found indicated considerable violence—I should say a heavy blow would be the cause of the injuries, or a fall on the stairs or a blow or a kick.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that Chasey, the other man, who is not in custody, was holding an argument with the prosecutor in the passage; that he and the other man were at the door; that he said to the others he was going to the back, when Chasey came running up with the other man; that he (the prisoner) said to them, "What are you running for?"; that Chasey said, "I have hit him in the nose for being saucy "; and that he (the prisoner) then left.

GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Stratford on February 25th, 1905, in the name of Harry Smith. Seven other convictions were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-122
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Miscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

122. THOMAS FIELDER (20) and WILLIAM KEAT (17) , Feloniously robbing Edward Hitchin with violence of a watch chain.

MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.

EDWARD HITCHIN (Interpreted, being deaf and dumb). On Sunday, November 19th, I was at a football match at the Memorial Grounds—as I came through Manor Road the prisoners followed and caught me by the neck and knocked me down—Fielder nicked my chain, and Keat hit me—I gave information at the police station—I saw a number of men there and picked out the prisoners—I am sure the prisoners are the men.

Cross-examined by Keat. I am sure you hit me.

FREDERICK STEVENS (Detective-Sergeant, K.) About 12.45 a.m. on November 20th I saw Fielder—I asked him his name—he said, "Henderson"—I said, "I am a police officer, and shall arrest you for being concerned with two other men in assaulting and robbing a man of a silver chain at Manor Road at 4.30 p.m. yesterday afternoon"—he said, "I heard you had got Darkey"—that is a man I had arrested for being concerned in this robbery; he was identified by the prosecutor as being present, but not taking part in it; that was a third man—the prisoner continued, "He is innocent; I was going to give myself up for it. We only had a piece of chain; it was not worth a tanner"—I sent him off by two officers to the station, where he was detained—I then went to 131, Bidder Street, where I saw Keat in bed—I said to him, "I am a police officer and shall arrest you for being concerned with two other men in assaulting and robbing a man at Manor Road at 4.30 p.m."—he said, "That's all right; that's what comes of mixing up with such chaps. It was not worth 2d. it was only little bit of chain"—I took him to the station, where he was detained till 8 a.m., when the prisoners were placed with eleven other men and at once identified by the prosecutor—when charged they made no reply.

fielder, in his defence, stated that he was hungry and saw the man's watch chain and rushed up and snatched at it; that the prosecutor hit him and he ran away; that he (the prisoner) did not hit him; that the prosecutor fell on him, and he pushed him off.

Keat, in his defence, said he did not hit the prosecutor; that he was a good six yards away when Fielder said, "I am going to take his chain "; that he (Keat) tried to prevent him and that he (Keat) ran away.

GUILTY . The police stated that Fielder mixed with a very bad gang and undoubtedly led Keat astray, and that Keat bore a good character FIELDER— Three months' hard labour. KEAT— Discharged on his own recognizances in £5.


Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.

Old Court, December 12th and 13th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-123
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

123. HENRY PHILLIPS (64) , Feloniously demanding from Mary Lewis £200 with menaces and with intent to steal the same. (See page 205.)


MARY LEWIS . I am the wife of Thomas Lewis, who is an artificer at the Royal Mint, and has been employed there for some years—we live at 16, Wallbutton Road, Brockley, and in September last we had in our service, for quite a short time, a young woman named Marion Constance Phillips as mothers' help—she received 5s. a week—she came on Tuesday, September 19th, and left on Saturday, September 23rd, the reason being that she smacked my child—I asked my husband to dismiss her and gave him 3s. 8d. to pay her—on October 2nd I gave my husband a written character to send her—on the night he had given her notice he told me he was to have an apology—I only knew that he had sent her the reference, as I had asked him if he had sent it and he said, "Yes"—he called at the girl's lodgings before October 19th, but only saw the landlady—I knew of his calling—on Thursday, October 19th, I was at home about 1.15 p.m. and in consequence of a message brought to me I went into the hall of my house and saw the prisoner and a man whom I afterwards learned was named Egan—Phillips said to me, Are you Mrs. Lewis?"—I said, "I am"—he said, "Is Mr. Lewis at home?"—I said, "No"—he said, "What time will he be home?"—I said "Six o'clock"—he then said, "Can you take us into a room where we shall not be overheard, as we have a very serious charge to make?"—I opened the dining-room door and showed them in and followed them—Phillips said, "I think now I will write it; will you fetch me a piece of paper?"—I said, "Cannot you tell me? I am his wife "—he said, "Will you fetch the sheet of paper, when we will decide whether to write it or tell you?"—I went into another room and fetched the paper, leaving them in the dining room—when I returned Phillips said, "We have decided now to tell you—sit down and take it calmly, as we have no wish to punish you, only Mr. Lewis"—I said "Who are you?"—he said, "That does not matter; what we have come about is a young woman, named Constance Phillips who was in your service five days as mother's help; she left at five minutes' notice through the improper conduct of your husband"—I said, "It is a lie. I gave her notice through my husband for smacking my child and I also gave him the 3s. 8d. to pay her with"—Egan said, "There is a slight discrepancy here, as Constance acknowledges receiving 5s."—Phillips said, "That is of no consequence; what we have come about is the improper conduct of your husband"—I said,. "It is a lie, because she cried and said she wished now she had taken the engagement to go on the stage to play the violin, but she would have to wear tights"—Phillips said, "That is an illusion; she is not that style of girl at all Your husband is the biggest blackguard on the face of the earth, for he is not content with that, but he has also written her letters, making appointments with her, and has been to her lodgings to see her, and he has also written a letter to her landlord and unfortunately this letter has got into the hands of her landlord's governor, and he is likely to lose his situation for keeping a girl in his house who is of ill fame. This is not the first case of its kind; there was a similar case at the Mint some years ago, but we are content not to put it into the hands

of the Public Prosecutor for a matter of £200"—I said, "We have no money"—they both laughed and Phillips said, "But we know better than you do what money your husband has"—I said, "Wait a minute while I send for my father" and I went to go to the door of the dining room but they went in front of the door and prevented me leaving the room And said, "There is no need of a third party; we have no wish for a third party, as this matter can be settled between you, Mr. Lewis and ourselves"—I had a speaking tube there which they could not see and through which I whistled very loudly—the charwoman came and I told her to go at once for my father and she went—they again repeated that there was no need for a third party and they would not wait—they kept on again about my husband being the biggest blackguard on the face of the earth, and the best thing for me to do would be to get a separation—I said, "Can't you wait; don't you see you are killing me?"—they kept on repeating the same thing and also said that unless they had the money my husband would have to leave the Mint, and I said, "Then the only thing for me would be to go out and work to keep myself and my child"—then my father came in through the garden casement—he is the caretaker of some schools belonging to the Worshipful Company of Haberdashers, which are about 260 yards from my door—he came in through the French window into the room and I told him what the men had said, and he went up to them and asked what authority they had for saying it and they said they refused to say, but Phillips said, "We have the letters here," and pointed to his coat pocket—my father said, "Let me see the letters"—I said, "I know my husband's writing; let me see them"—Phillips said he would not allow us to see them, but he had seven or eight—my father asked them several times who they were, but they refused to say, so he said he would order them out of the house, and I also said, "Go out of the house"—after a short time they left the room and Phillips shouted in the hall that my husband was a blackguard and that he was going to the Mint, as he was in communication with the authorities, and Egan turned to my father and said, "You had better come to terms in this matter," and something about their being reasonable men—they then left the house, but before doing so Phillips said to me that he would return at 6 that evening—my husband does not have his dinner at home; he leaves at 7.15 a.m. to catch the 7.30 train and comes home at 6 p.m.—neither of the prisoners came at 6 p.m. and I saw no more of them until the next day—when my father came into the room I cried, because I said, "What shall we do? We have not £200," and I was upset when Phillips said it was a serious charge he had come upon because I thought an accident at the Mint had happened—my father was with me until nearly 3 p.m. that day and later on he came back and made a statement to me—my husband returned earlier than usual because I had asked my father to wire to him—when he returned my father saw him before I did—next morning my husband remained at home, and about 10.30 a.m. he answered the door and let in the prisoner and Egan—I was in the hall at the time—the prisoner said to my husband, "Are you Mr. Lewis?"and he said, "I am Lewis"—we all four went into the dining-room; my father was not there then, but

I sent the charwoman for him—probably two or three minutes elapsed after our getting into the dining room and before my father arrived—during that time Phillips said to my husband, "We have an appointment with Mr. Dawson," and my husband said, "He is coming," and that was all—about a minute after my father came, Phillips turned to him and said, "What are we waiting for? We have already been here three minutes"—my father said, "We are waiting for a witness to hear both sides"—I called out, "It is a detective; I am going to have you both locked up," and Phillips said something about "That is right; if you don't, we should"—I was standing by the casement door; I turned round and saw the room was empty—I ran across to the door and they had just got to the outside door and I heard my father say, "Lewis, bring your hat; we will follow them "; I do not think Phillips could hear that—it was almost directly after I had mentioned the word "detective" that they left the room—at the interview that morning there was no demand by the prisoner to my husband for an apology or for an undertaking not to molest the girl—they did not show him any letters or refer to any; they did not even say the nature of the appointment or why they came—I followed them to the front door and saw them at the top of the street walking together very rapidly—I next saw them when they were in custody—I had never seen them before the afternoon of October 19th—Phillips never told me he was the father of the girl, and she had told me she had no father.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was not excited when you called in the morning, but I was excited after we had been talking—when you said there was a similar case at the Mint some years ago I did not know what you meant—I do not know that my father told you that my husband had been a great disappointment to him, that I had been spoilt as a child and was very extravagant and a great expense—I have not invented the tale about the £200—on October 19th I think my husband came home about 4—he had been laid up for a fortnight with a bad hand, but not while Constance was with us, as he did not come home with his finger poisoned until October 3rd—my husband was at home on the Saturday that the girl left, and I was there to breakfast, but I was so much annoyed that I went home to my parents and told them that I would not see the girl again—I went to the Crystal Palace about 2 o'clock, but I did not leave my husband with the girl; he was at my father's—he sent the girl away at 5 o'clock, the time we had arranged—I never told you that if the circumstances that you had told me were true, I would leave my husband, because I could always earn my own living—our first interview was solely between yourself and Egan, but I repeated the conversation to my father in your presence and you heard every word—my father was not with us that afternoon from 1.50 to 2 p.m.—I did not ask you if you were a solicitor and you did not say you had not consulted a solicitor and that you only wanted an apology and that if you did not get it you would consult a solicitor, to see if it was a case for a Police Court or a case I which there might be damages for libel which was contained in the letter, on that if it were brought home to my husband the Jury might give the young lady £50, £100, or £200—you did not ask for a promise that my

husband should not molest the girl again and you did not say that if you did not get it a solicitor might regard the matter as a case for a Police Court in respect to molesting the girl—you simply said the letter was written by my husband—I only heard the one sum of £200 and not as damages for libel; it was only mentioned as hush money—I remember Mr. Elliott defending Egan before the Magistrate, and I then said that I only heard one sum mentioned, to keep the matter out of the hands of the Public Prosecutor—I signed a book at the police station; I do not know who else did—if I had given you that £200, you were going to hush the matter up—I have not sworn that all through the interview you were calm and gentlemanly—you begged me to be calm, but your manner was not calm and gentlemanly; it was just the reverse—I have not sworn that when I proposed calling my father you made no objection but said, "Certainly"—the speaking tube is at the side of the fireplace—before the Magistrate and at the trial here three weeks ago I admitted that the whole of this letter of October 1st was written by my husband with the exception of the word" affectionately"—I did not think my husband had written it, because he is a Welshman and I have never known him write the word in full, he always puts "Affect." and "Yours affect." and not "Affectionately yours," but that would not prevent him writing it to others—I have no old letters of my husband's written "Affect."—I cannot see much difference in the writing of the word "Affectionately" and the rest, and if it is not his writing it is very well imitated—my husband has said that the word "Affectionately" was not in his writing but admitted that he had written the letter (Ex. A. read): "Royal Mint, E. Dear Miss Phillips,—I am sorry I have been so long in sending you your references. We have had some trouble at home; the old gentleman, Mr. Fulton, has passed away. I herewith enclose your references, and I shall be pleased to hear from you at any time. Affectionately yours, T. Lewis."—I never saw that letter until it was handed to me at Greenwich Police Court, and I had to say there and then, did I believe it was in my husband's writing, so I could not have arranged with him whether it was his or not—this letter marked Al is not my husband's writing and I have never had since I was married a black edged sheet of notepaper in my house—at the last trial I was asked to write certain words at his Lordship's dictation taken from that letter—your name was not given until you were at the police station, when you stated you were the father of the young lady.

By the COURT. Our house cost £800 to build and we bought it—Constance knew that, although she did not know I was building it through a building society—it has about twelve rooms and I let two flats unfurnished—it has a garden communicating with the school.

By the prisoner. I did not know that my husband told you we were paying for the house through a building society.

JOHN GEORGE DAWSON . I live at a lodge attached to Askes' Schools in Pepys Road, New Cross, and am the caretaker of the schools—my daughter, Mrs. Lewis, lives quite close, and I can get to her house by means of the garden—on Thursday, October 19th, about 1.30 p.m., I remember a message

coming to me, in consequence of which I went to my daughter's house, where I saw her, Phillips and Egan—I did not know them before—I did not know them at that time—my daughter made a statement to me—she told me that these two men had come to make a demand upon her on account of Lewis's misconduct with Constance Phillips, who had been discharged on account of smacking the baby, and that on account of the misconduct on the part of her husband, they had demanded £200, and she repeated that several times over in the prisoner's presence—he told me himself in her presence that Lewis had been writing letters to the young lady and had been annoying her by making appointments to meet her in the evenings in the streets, and said that Lewis had written a letter to the girl's landlord, which had unfortunately got into the landlord's employer's hands and was likely to get him discharged, and he said it was a very serious matter and they had come to see if they could settle things amicably—he also followed that up by saying he thought it was a very reasonable demand, considering the very serious charges against Lewis—I then asked him who he was, where he came from, and who had sent him, but he refused to give his name or say whom he was sent by, or employed by—I then said I did not think there was a word of truth in anything he had said, because I knew my daughter's husband's conduct had been very different to what he had said, and he then assured me that it was true and that he had got evidence in his pocket, in the shape of eight or nine letters which Lewis had written, a number of which made appointments with the girl to meet her in the evening—he also said that the girl had written a letter to Mrs. Lewis, asking her to keep Lewis away from her, so that she should not be annoyed—I asked him to let me see the letters, but he refused and I said, "Let me see some of them," but he said, "No, I have got them in my pocket; they are safe"—I asked him several times who he was and then said, "You must go; leave these premises," and I opened the door to turn them out"—when they got into the entrance he shouted in a very loud and boisterous manner that Lewis was a very great blackguard and ought to be exposed, and Egan then said, "Mr. Dawson, you had better be reasonable in this matter and come to terms; we are reasonable men and are prepared to meet you in an honourable manner"—I ordered them out and said, "You will have to see Lewis"—that was about 1.15 or 1.20—I was in their company, I should say, about fifteen minutes before I turned them out of the house—the same afternoon I was at my lodge, which I occupy as caretaker, and about 3 p.m. the prisoner and Egan called—I went to let them in and asked them to wait half a minute, as I was writing a telegram to send for Lewis at the Mint, and had got the boy waiting at the door to take it—I handed the boy the telegram, went into the room, and closed the door behind me, and as I went in the prisoner said, "Mr. Dawson, you asked to see these letters"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "We have thought this matter over and we are prepared to show them to you on one condition"—I said, "What is that"?—he said "That you bring in the headmaster of these schools to read that letter in this room"—I said, "I shall not do anything of the kind," and he said, "Well, another master who holds an important position in the school

will do"—I said, "I shall not do that; this matter has nothing what ever to do with these schools, neither has it to do with me, only so far as it concerns my daughter, and of course my daughter's interests are mine to a certain extent, but you will have to see her husband. I have been in these schools now in this situation for nearly eighteen years. I will give you my word as an honourable straightforward man, if you like to put those letters before me, that I will not injure or destroy them or do anything to them and allow you to take them back without injury"—upon that he produced one letter and laid it on the table—I purposely did not touch it, but I read it; it was this one (Letter A produced), and after reading it I asked him for the others—he said, "That is quite sufficient to justify our calling and making demand upon Mrs. Lewis"—I said he would have to see Mr. Lewis himself about it—there was a great deal said about Lewis being such a blackguard and other things—I made an appointment to meet them at 10 next morning, and I told the prisoner I would go over and see Lewis at his house with them—during the interview at my house the prisoner was rather violent and boisterous, especially at first, but he cooled down a little when we talked about the appointment—he said that n account of Lewis's gross misconduct the girl had been sent away to the country at a very great expense, and he also said that the anonymous letter was very likely to cause the landlord to be discharged from his situation, which was a very serious matter for a man with a family—that evening I saw Lewis and went with him to Brockley police station and made a communication to the sergeant in charge—the next morning, between 10 and 10.30, I went to Lewis's house four times, and as soon as I saw the prisoner and Egan there I entered the room by the back door and told Lewis in a whisper that I had sent for a policeman—I did not speak to the prisoner or Egan, but while I was speaking to Lewis, Phillips said, "Mr. Dawson, what are we waiting for? We have been here about three minutes already"—I said, "Well, I have got a friend coming in to hear both sides of the question"—my daughter said, "A detective has been sent for"—the prisoner opened the door and they made off in a very hurried manner, but before doing so the prisoner said, "Quite right; if you had not sent for one we should"—I pursued them for about two miles and gave them into custody.

Cross-examined. When I first came into the room when Mrs. Lewis called for me through the speaking tube she made a statement to me so that you and Egan could hear, and you said that you had come to demand an apology from Lewis for his gross misconduct to the young lady and to obtain a solemn promise that he would stop molesting her; and in addition to that you made a claim for money—I did not get back to my house that day at 2 p.m.—I do not know what time I first went to my house—I did not go back until some time after the boys had gone into school—when you and Egan were in my room no one else was there—I was not very indignant with you at first, as I wanted to know the particulars of the case, but I did not enter into a friendly chat with you or say that Lewis was a great disappointment to me—he had not promised to do many things when he was engaged to my daughter which he failed

to do—he was originally on the temporary staff at the Mint and I may have told you he had temporary employment, but I do not know if I did—I said my daughter was paying for the house through a building society—my only object in telling you that was to show you that my daughter had not got the money you claimed—in my room you told me that my daughter was in a very hysterical state, but you did not say that she was not responsible for what she was saying or doing, and I did not say that she was greatly upset before I came in owing to a lodger running away or that she was a very highly strung woman—I said she had been upset a little previous to your coming because she had had an old gentleman die in the house who had been there a number of years, and I may have said that my daughter was a highly strung young woman—I am not keeping anything back—Egan did not ask you to show me the first letter—when I saw the letter I read it through as carefully as I could—this letter is very similar to the one I read (Produced), but I do not know if it is the same—at the trial three weeks ago I said I did not think it was the letter—I believe I said I thought it was a blue letter—I did not take the letter up or handle it; it was laid on the table—I did not have my glasses on—you said it was quite sufficient to justify your calling, because it was signed "Affectionately yours"—when I said I would be present at the interview with Lewis you said, "By" all means; I shall be very glad to see you"—I never said Lewis was a violent man—at the trial three weeks ago I said, "Phillips told me that he had sent his daughter away at vast expense"—when I disputed your word in regard to those letters you said "What can't speak, can't lie; I have got seven or eight letters here written by Lewis"—you said you would ruin Mrs. Lewis and make her bankrupt and get her husband discharged from the Mint—you did not make your names known until you gave them at Brockley police station, and it was then that you said you were the father of the girl—when you were arrested you asked what it was for, and I said it was for attempted blackmail and for demanding £200; that is what I told the policeman and you said it was a monstrous charge and that I must be as big a blackguard as Lewis.

THOMAS LEWIS I am an artificer in the Royal Mint, and live with my wife at Brockley—on Thursday, October 19th, I returned home in the evening and saw my wife and father-in-law and they made a communication to me, and later that evening I went with my father-in law to the police station—next morning, about 10 a.m., I was at home—my father in-law was not there then, but he had been there—the prisoner and Egan came and I let them in—they asked me whether I was Mr. Lewis and I said I was—they made no statement to me with regard to the object of their visit—they were shown into the dining-room—they simply said, "Where is Mr. Dawson?"—my wife said, "I wish that detective would come," and Phillips said, "What are we waiting for?—I have been here now nearly three minutes; I am off to the Mint," and he and Egan hurried off and my father-in-law and myself went after them—we eventually overtook them and they were given in custody—this

anonymous letter (Produced) I know nothing about; it is not in my writing, neither is the envelope attached to it.

Cross-examined. I have never done anything wrong at the Mint—I do not remember Mr. Elliott, who was counsel for Egan, at the Police Court suggesting to my wife that she had jumped to the conclusion that you had demanded £200 from her or that if a certain action was brought we should have to pay £100 or £200—when before the Magistrate I swore that this letter (Ex. A) was written by me with the exception of the word "Affectionately," because I thought it was written on blue paper, and I say now that I believe it is my letter—at the trial three weeks ago I swore that this letter was not the original, and I thought that this was a copy of some other letter written on blue paper, but that was a mistake—I absolutely denied the word "Affectionately" because I thought the letter was on blue paper—at the trial Mr. Dawson repudiated the letter because I repudiated it and swore that it was a blue letter—at the trial I thought the letter was a tracing—the writing on this envelope (Produced by the prisoner) is like mine. But I cannot be sure of it—I believe it is mine, but when I wrote it I do not know—I must have written the letter to the young lady dated October 1st with the word "Affectionately" in it, but I must have put that in by mistake, as I had been writing to one of my wife's friends—I was writing to the young lady for an apology and said, "I shall be pleased to hear from you," but I put it in bad English because I am not an Englishman—I wrote to get an apology and I sent her a reference—she promised to send an apology when she left and I will have it when she comes out of prison—I wrote the other letter because I was not at the Mint to receive the apology.

ANNIE ATKINS . I am unmarried and live at 75, Cliftonville, and I was formerly employed by Mr. Dawson at the caretaker's lodge—at that time a girl named Constance Phillips was with Mrs. Lewis, and on October 19th I remember the prisoner calling at Mr. Dawson's house with another man—the prisoner said, "Is Mr. Dawson in?"—I said, "No; I expect you will find him in the garden"—he said, "Is Mrs. Dawson in?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Do you know Mr. Lewis?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Are you any relation to him?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Are you sure?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Is there any way I can get there?"—I said, "Yes, you can go through the cricket field, but I must not show you, because I must not leave the place"—he said, "Can you tell me is this Mr. Lewis's handwriting?" and he pulled out a letter and I said, "No, cannot tell you"—he said, "Thank you, I am very much obliged; good-morning," and he went away—I think the paper he pulled out was blue, but I did not particularly notice it; I just saw, "Dear Miss Phillips" on the top of it and "R. M.," but I did not read the letter or take it into my hands.

Cross-examined. I do not know if I should know the letter if I saw it again—when Mrs. Dawson came in I said, "A gentleman showed me a blue letter."

JOSEPH SWAN (71 P.) About 7 p.m. on October 19th I was in charge of Brockley police station when Mr. Dawson came in with Lewis and made a complaint—I left instructions that an officer was to go to Lewis's the following day.

Cross-examined. They told me that two men had called, but did not mention any names—I was not present when the charge was taken.

JOHN ROBERTS (332 K.) On October 20th I saw the prisoner about 11 a.m. in Old Kent Road going in an opposite direction to Lewis's house—when I first saw him he was leaving a tram car, followed by Dawson, and from what Dawson told me, I told the prisoner I should take him into custody for demanding money by threats—he said, "He has only got one witness the same as me. I called there with reference to a young lady whom he had ruined and to put a stop to it"—on the way to the station he said, "He has only one witness, the same as me, and I do not think it right to take me without a warrant, but 1 decline to give any account of myself"—at the station he was charged and made no reply.

Cross-examined. You said something to Mr. Dawson about his being as big a blackguard as his son-in-law.

THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . I am an expert in handwriting at Bath House, Holborn Viaduct—I have made an examination of certain documents which were put in evidence in this case at the first trial—I have been letter A and its envelope and specimens of Lewis's writing and Mrs. Lewis's writing and also the anonymous letter with its envelope—I have formed the opinion that the anonymous letter was written by neither Mr. or Mrs. Lewis.

Cross-examined. In my opinion, the word "Affectionately" was written by the same person who wrote the letter and at the same time.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on October 19th his daughter called upon him with Egan, and made a statement to him, and gave him three letters; that he and Egan called at Lewis's house next day and saw Mrs. Lewis and told her that he had come about a matter between himself and Lewis and would write and make an appointment with him; that Mrs. Lewis asked him what her husband had been doing and that he told her husband had been acting improperly with a young lady by putting his arm round her waist and hugging her; that Mrs. Lewis said it was a lie; that he said he had a letter signed "Affectionately yours"; that Lewis had called at the house where the girl was residing, and that an anonymous letter had been received by her, making grave accusations against her; that he and Egan had come to get an explanation and an apology and a solemn promise that Lewis would abstain from molesting her further; that Mrs. Lewis asked him if he were a solicitor and he said he was not and had not consulted one, but that if he had, his advice would probably be that he should take proceedings before a Magistrate or an action of libel, in which case a Jury would give £50, £100 or £200 damages; that she asked if she could see her father and he said certainly, and when he came she told him practically what he (the prisoner) has told her, but that she was crying at the time and was rather incoherent; that Dawson asked him what he had called about and he told him what he had told Mrs. Lewis; that he made no demand for £200or any other sum, and used no threat; that he did not say that he had eight or nine letters in his pocket and that he had never had more than three; that Dawson did not ask to see the letters; that after they left the house he and Egan went to see Dawson, who told him that his son-in-law

had been rather unsatisfactory and that he was not surprised that he had been acting so foolishly; that he gave Dawson a letter to read, but nothing was said about the headmaster coming in; that next morning he and Egan went to Lewis and saw him; that they waited fifteen or twenty minutes before Dawson came and that he (the prisoner) then said, "I shall not wait any longer; these people have behaved very rudely to us. They made the appointment and we have been at the trouble of coming here for nothing at all. I have an appointment at the British Museum"; that he left and Egan followed him; that they did not run away or leave the house in a hurry; that Mrs. Lewis had not said that a detective had been called; that Egan had not told Mrs. Lewis that they were reasonable men and would be willing to come to terms; that he (the prisoner) had not said there was a similar case at the Mint some years ago; that he had not threatened to go to the Mint and tell the authorities; that their names were never asked for; that Dawson's statement that they wanted £200 in addition to the apology from Lewis was false; that he had never said he would ruin Mrs. Lewis and make her bankrupt or get Lewis discharged; and that the whole of Dawson's evidence was utterly false.

Evidence for the Defence,

GEORGE VINCENT EGAN . (By the prisoner.) I was dismissed by the Magistrate from this case at the adjourned hearing—I was summoned originally with you—I have been engaged at the Post Office for twenty-one years—Miss Phillips, a friend of mine, called at the office where I was employed and made a statement to me as to some letters that she had received from a place where she had been employed—she showed me some letters—I did not take much notice of them, but I think I should remember them—I know one was anonymous—she asked me what she ought to do in the matter—I advised her to go to her father and I went with her—we had a conversation, and I went with you to Mr. Lewis' house—when we got there a servant opened the door—we asked to see Mr. Lewis and were told he was not in—Mrs. Lewis came—she said she could wire for her husband or he could make an appointment—she was excited, I suppose, by our mysterious appearance—I did not take part in the conversation—you asked for some writing materials and she brought them; but before that you did not say that you did not want a third person present—she was very anxious to know if there was anything wrong with her husband, had he done anything wrong at the Mint, or had we come in connection with the Mint in any way—you said that you had come about a young lady she had had there as a lady help; that Mr. Lewis had been writing improper letters to her and arranging to meet her in the evening and that you had come to put a stop to it—you said we had come about an apology and a promise not to molest the young lady—you never said a single word to Mrs. Lewis or Mr. Dawson afterwards, demanding any money whatever—before we went to the house we had no conversation about asking for any money from Mrs. Lewis—if Mrs. Lewis says we demanded money, that is untrue—neither you nor I uttered a single threat to her or Dawson of any sort or kind—we never mentioned

in any way the words "Public Prosecutor" to Mrs. Lewis or Mr. Dawson—her statement that we did is false—neither you nor I left it to Mrs. Lewis to do what was right, at any time, and she did not tell us that she had no money—I heard you tell her that if you did not get an apology you would take other steps and a solicitor might advise proceedings, in which event a Jury might assess damages at £50, or £100, or even £200—your language to Mrs. Lewis was, I thought, temperate and gentlemanly in every respect—if Mrs. Lewis has sworn that we prevented her from leaving the room to call her father, and that she cried out that we were killing her, it is absolutely false—we were neither of us anywhere near her at any time—I never heard you tell her to leave her husband—when Dawson came into the room, Mrs. Lewis made a statement to him—she did not in that statement say anything about our demanding money—I did not hear Mrs. Lewis cry and tell her father that they could not raise £200—she seemed hysterical, but was not crying—she had an anxious look; I do not know how to describe it—after Mrs. Lewis made her statement to her father, he said, "What have you come about?"—you said, "With reference to some letters alleged to have been written by Mr. Lewis"—you told him that she had been annoyed by Lewis calling at her residence and that it must be stopped—Dawson said it was false about writing the letters—you then said that you had the letters in your pocket and were sorry he met the matter in that spirit and that you should take other steps—he may have asked for our names once, but not over and over again—Mrs. Lewis did not say over and over again to her father that we had asked for £200—I handed three letters to you—you did not tell Dawson that you had eight or nine letters in your pocket; you said you had letters—Dawson opened the door for us and seemed agitated; he did not turn us out—I never asked Mrs. Lewis whether the matter could not be settled amicably, as we were reasonable men; I never used such words—it was not my affair and I said nothing—I merely went as a witness—I made no statement to that effect either to her or her father—I do not remember her saying before the Magistrate that I said so—after we left the house we saw a schoolboy and ascertained that Dawson was the keeper of the school and knew his name then—we went to the lodge where Dawson lived and you said to me that you felt inclined to see him and tell him we must see Lewis without delay with a view to an apology—I said it was an excellent idea—we went there and a servant opened the door—I did not hear what passed—we waited outside two or three minutes and then called again—I did not notice who opened the door the second time—we were shown into the sitting room—you told Dawson that you had come there in respect of the letter—you said that his daughter was highly strung and not capable of knowing what she was saying or doing; I do not remember the exact words; it was something of that sort, and that you could not get satisfaction—Dawson replied that owing to the loss of a lodger or a friend, she was terribly upset and her nerves were highly strung and she was not in a fit state to meet any such charges or to deal with such a lot of them, something like that; that she had had a lot of trouble—I heard you ask him why Lewis had behaved so foolishly

—he said that he did not believe it, but that Lewis had been an unsatisfactory son-in-law; he did not seem very pleased with him—I do not remember his saying that Lewis had been laid up for a fortnight with a bad hand—to the best of my knowledge this is the letter (October 1st) I showed to Dawson—I remember asking you whether there was any objection to showing it—he read it twice over, I think—he returned it, laying it was quite sufficient to justify your calling and demanding an explanation or an apology, something like that—he made no comment upon the letter—I took it that he accepted it, from his general manner—I do not recollect your saying, "What can't speak, can't lie"—you said nothing about asking to see the headmaster—I am sure you did not threaten to Dawson that you would ruin Mrs. Lewis, make her bankrupt, and have Lewis turned out of his situation—it is not true, as Dawson says, that you said that the young lady had gone away at vast expense or that anybody had been put to vast expense in sending her away—I did not hear that expression at all—it was arranged that we should call next morning at Lewis' at 10.30—Dawson said that he would like to be present, that his son-in-law was a very violent tempered man and he might be able to keep him under control—at the interview next morning nothing was said—we waited there about twenty minutes—you then left the room, saying you could not wait any longer—you said, "What are we waiting for?" that you had called to see Mr. Lewis for an explanation, that nobody seemed forthcoming to give it, and there was not any need to wait any longer—you then proceeded to the front door—I followed slowly and I then heard Mrs. Lewis say, "We have arranged for a detective to be here"—I was then half way out of the dining room and you were, I think, on the front steps—no answer was made to Mrs. Lewis' observation that I recollect—on the first day we went to Mr. Dawson's house at 1.50; it was not 3 o'clock, I am sure—we were there about ten minutes—I wish to flatly contradict that we ran away from the house, as put in one of the statements; we were most anxious to have the matter sifted.

Cross-examined. I have known Constance Phillips about four years—I made her acquaintance at my father's house, where she was lodging with her mother—I was lodging there too, off and on—I have continued that acquaintance ever since—I do not know how long she lodged at Embleton Road—I was not a frequent visitor there—I suppose once in three weeks; perhaps not once in six weeks—I went there occasionally—I contradict most emphatically that I went there to see her every week—I am married—Constance Phillips knew that—she asked me if it was the fact—I did not say to her that I was unmarried—she knew all about my circumstances, my wife and children, and had for years—I have not led her to believe that I was single—she brought me the letters she had received—the prisoner I and both agreed together to go to Lewis owing to their nature, they were such bad letters, the defamatory one especially—I thought there was sufficient justification for going—I had known her for years and there was a platonic friendship between us—I thought I would go with the prisoner to see what truth there was in the allegations in the letters and also as a witness, as I have said—I suggested going and

the prisoner agreed—I thought the matter should be sifted out—I used to frequently see her in the neighbourhood—I occasionally visited her house—I sometimes met her in the morning before I went to the office—there was no occasion to make appointments—occasionally she would come to my office at the Post Office—that has been going on, I suppose, for three or four years—when the prisoner and I went to Lewis, there was nothing previously arranged between us as to whether we should give our names or not—when we found Lewis was not there, the prisoner thought he would tell Mrs. Lewis about the matter—that was after a little hesitation; he asked me and I thought he should—we thought she might be able to throw some light upon it, as the girl had been employed there—Mrs. Lewis wanted to know what we had called about—I refused to give her my name, because it would have looked as if I took too much interest in the girl—I am very sorry I ever went there—Mrs. Lewis said she could telegraph for her husband—I made no reply—it had nothing to do with me; I merely went to hear what was said—the damages that a Jury might award in a civil action was the only reference by us to money—there was no reference by the prisoner to criminal proceedings—he did say that at a Magisterial examination the Jury might award damages; I do not know what he meant—that was in reference to the letters, if they were proved, the anonymous one in particular, as to taking the girl's character away—when. Mr. Dawson was sent for by Mrs. Lewis and was told what we had come about, I did think it a little bit funny, but not very, that the prisoner should not give his name and address, being the girl's father; then I thought to myself, "Well, he does not want to disclose his name and address, and I shall not do so either"—Dawson and the prisoner were very irate, and high words ensued between them—I did not interpose and say they should be reasonable—the next day, when we went to the house, there was a sort of silent meeting—Lewis said they were waiting for something; that may have been the reason of the silence—it was a comic sort of meeting, nobody said anything, except that at the finish, when the prisoner was half way out of the house and I was leaving the room, a detective was mentioned as being expected as an independent witness—the prisoner did say before that, "What are we waiting for?"—I do not think he said, "We had better go"—now that it is put to me, I think I did say at the last hearing that "Mr. Dawson appeared to hesitate a few minutes, and something was said about an independent witness, a detective, I think, who had arranged to be there, but he had not kept the appointment; after this nobody said anything at all and nothing was done in the matter, as we were waiting for this independent witness; after fifteen or twenty minutes you "(that is the prisoner)," said,' What are we waiting for? We had better go and we will consider the matter '" (See page 214)—I did not pay particular attention to it—we did wait twenty minutes—when the detective was mentioned, I did not hurry away—the prisoner had gone out by then—he states that he did not mention about the detective—we walked away and had got some distance from the house when we were arrested—the prisoner said he was going to the British Museum or going to the Mint, I do not know

which—I think he said he was going to both—that was when we left the house, I think, but I would not like to swear to that—he may have said in the house that if he could not get satisfaction he would go to the Mint or write to them, something of the sort—that was to get an explanation of the letter, to see if they were in Lewis's writing.

Re-examined. I cannot say that I know the distinction between a civil process and a criminal one—I have had nothing whatever to do with law—something was said by you, but I forget in what connection, as to your going to get a letter from the Mint or something of that sort—I remember your saying to me that you were going to the British Museum—you said you had an appointment there.

GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his age. It was stated that the prisoner had been convicted at this Court in 1896. Eighteen months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-124
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

124. THOMAS WILLIAM KING (15) PLEADED GUILTY to carnally knowing Ada King, a girl under thirteen years of age. Eighteen months' hard labour.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Third Court, December 12th and 13th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-125
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

125. JOHN COOKE (39) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling house of Edward Marquet, with intent to steal; also to feloniously throwing on Edward Marquet a corrosive fluid, viz., carbonate of ammonia, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm; also to feloniously wounding Edward Marquet, with intent to disable him, and with intent to resist his lawful apprehension, having been convicted of felony at the South London Sessions on March 15th, 1905.

Three other convictions were proved against him, and he was shown to have been in possession of a knife, as well as corrosive fluid. It was stated that the prosecutor was in danger of losing his sight. Fifteen years' penal servitude.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-126
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

126. DAVID McCLEAVE (21) and SAMUEL BRIDGE (20) , Stealing 14 cwt. of old iron fittings, the property of George Ansell.

MR. WATT and MR. CORNES Prosecuted; MR. CAMERON Defended.

ROBERT JAGGARD . I am foreman to Mr. Ansell, whose office is at 13 and 14, Chichester Street, and 12a, Chant Street, Hatcham—at 5.30 on November 8th I left the premises at Chant Street locked up and safe—I came back at 6.30 a.m. on the 9th and found the place had been broken into—one lock and a bolt fasten the gate of the yard—the lock which had been left on the staple had been forced, the window was forced, and the door of the office open—in the office the drawers were forced, and the contents missing, including 2s., besides some iron fittings from the yard, like these (Produced)—I value the fittings at 30s.—I next saw them in a yard at Deptford on the Saturday morning, where I was taken by the police to identify them.

NATHAN HYAMS . I am a metal merchant, of 227, Camberwell Road

—on November 9th, about 8 a.m., the prisoners came to my shop and asked me if I bought old iron—I said "Yes"—they had a pony barrow—I bought the iron for £I Is. 2d. by weight—they were in my place about ten minutes.—I next saw them at Deptford police station the following Saturday morning, when I picked them out from eight or nine other men, without any difficulty—my shop is about two miles from Hatcham.

Cross-examined. November 9th was a dull morning—I should not call it a very dark morning—I had never seen the prisoners before—I asked who the men were, and where they got the iron from—they said they came from Surbiton, and it was iron that came from Surbiton the day before—in the barrow they had a pony of a dirty grey colour, that looked as if it wanted cleaning—the pony was covered with an ordinary horse rug, which looked like a piece of sacking—they pulled down my yard with the pony and barrow—I told the Magistrate they had a pony and barrow—the iron was 1s. 9d. a cwt.

Re-examined. I saw the iron on the barrow—it was uncovered—there is nothing particular about the prisoners, but I generally take particular notice of strangers.

FRANK BEAVIS (Sergeant R.) I arrested McCleave about 11.30 p.m. on November 10th—I found the prisoners and two others in a stable at Aveney Road, New Cross, where the police had been keeping observation—they came there with a grey pony—I said to McCleave, "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with a man named Bridge, in breaking into the office of Mr. Ansell and stealing 2s. in cash, and three-quarters of a ton of iron fittings"—he said, "Can you prove I done it? I shall prove I am not guilty. I can prove where I was"—I took him to the station, where he was identified from amongst eight others—when he was charged he said, "I can prove where I was that night. I let my pony and barrow out about half-past 7 to three men I do not know, to do a job; I then went away to the Club. If I get put away for this I am innocent"—after he was identified he said, "You Jew bastard," pointing to the last witness, "When I come out I will get a revolver and shoot you."

CHARLES CANNING (Detective R.) On November 10th I was with the last witness and arrested Bridge—I told him he would be taken to the station, and charged with being concerned with other men in stealing iron "—he said, "Yes, you mean on suspicion of stealing it, but you will have to prove it"—I was at the station when the prisoners were charged—Bridge said, "When were these dates, and were both jobs done on the same night?"—I was present when Hyams identified him from eight others, without hesitation—I believe the pony and barrow have been given back to the owner, and that they were only hired.

Evidence for the Defence.

JOHN MEAD . I live at 67, Pomeroy Street, New Cross—I know the prisoners—I have seen them several times—I opened my coffee shop at 5 a.m. on November 9th—I saw the prisoners in my shop about 7 a. m—they were there about half an hour.

Cross-examined. Camberwell New Road is about a mile and a quarter

from my place—I do not know that the prisoners have a horse and barrow of their own—I knew them as working men—I have seen them with a barrow and a grey pony, a sort of dirty colour—the same pony and barrow were outside my shop when they were taking refreshment—I could not see what was in the barrow, as I was looking out from the window, and there is a wide pavement there—the barrow was big enough for both to ride in—I was first spoken to about this on the Saturday, when someone told me these men had been locked up, and a girl came and asked me to go to the station—I forget her name—I am sure these men were at my place from 7 o'clock to half-past, because men are going to their work about half-past 7, and rush in for a cup of tea, and are quick out again—there was nothing special to call my attention to the prisoners, but they generally stop there—they had only called there a few mornings—they do not always come at the same time, but they have been many times before—I thought they might be going to market for vegetables—I had no conversation with them—they did not have breakfast—I think they had a cup of tea and a piece of toast.

NORAH HEALY . I live at 12, Pells' Place, Kinder Street, Hatcham—I am married—on November 9th Bridge came to me about 7.30 or 7.40 a.m.—I asked him to have a cup of tea, and he said he had just had one at the coffee shop—no one was with him—I am sure about it, because my girl had to go to work at the same time—he did not stop many minutes—the coffee shop is not far from my house, only just round the corner.

Cross-examined. Mead is the name of the coffee shopkeeper, I believe; it is at the corner of Pomeroy Street—Bridge used to come in and out of my place, being a friend of my boys, and the door happened to be open when the girl was going to work—I did not see whether he had a pony and a barrow; I did not go outside my door—I have seen the other prisoner pass through my court many times—it leads into Pomeroy Street, and to the next place—I told the Magistrate that Bridge said that he would not have a cup of tea because he had had one at the coffee shop—I can fix that Thursday morning because it was the Lord Mayor's Show Day, and I was thinking about going, but did not—I would like to have gone, but was frightened because of the traffic—Bridge was in my house about ten minutes altogether—he did not appear to have been out all night; he seemed nice and washed—I heard in the morning that he had been locked up, and I was asked to give evidence, I believe, the next day—I think a 'tec' told me; he was not in uniform, but in private clothes—he only told me that I had to go and prove that this man was in my house.

ELIZABETH LEWINGTON . I am the wife of Robert Lewington, of 116, Neate Street, Camberwell—I saw Bridge on Thursday, November 9th, at his mother's house in the same street from 7.55 till after 9 a.m.

Cross-examined. I know Bridge very well, and the other prisoner by sight—after I saw Bridge he went and had his breakfast—I know because he had to get back to his work, and it was 7.55—he had been out that morning down at the coffee shop—he had a pony, I think—it was not a pure white—I have never seen his barrow—I do not work at the same house as Healy, but I go there for shirts and collars—I did not know

about this matter till his mother said, "Sam's locked up"—that was on the Saturday morning—I said, "What for?" she said, "He has been had up on suspicion of doing something on Thursday, the Lard Mayor's Show Day"—I said, "I see him having his breakfast when I come down to his house"—I do not go there every morning, but when I pass the door I always call in—I go there sometimes on Tuesdays and Thursdays to get the washing, ironing, and that, and sometimes again on the Saturday—I did not notice the time that morning.

ELIZA RICHFIELD . I am the wife of Edwin Richfield, of 29, Reginald Road, Deptford—the prisoner McCleave is my brother—I saw him on Thursday, November 9th—he lives with us—I woke him up just after 7 a.m.—he went out about 7.30 as near as I can tell.

Cross-examined. My brother is a carman—he has been working at some metal works—he starts about 6 a.m. and works till about 5 p.m.; I do not know exactly—he does not come home till the evening—he does not come home to his meals—that morning he was out of work—he worked one night all night—I got up about 7, and called him afterwards—he had not been out—he had some tea before he left at 7.30—I called him after 7 as near as I could tell; I did not take much notice—he said he was going to look round and see if he could get work—I know Bridge by sight—I do not know if he is a friend of my brother—nobody asked me to give evidence at the Police Court—I came myself, because my brother did not come home all night—I did not know he was taken up till my sister came and told me.

GUILTY . McCleave then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Lambeth Police Court on April 20th, 1903. Another conviction was proved against him, and both the prisoners were stated to be associates of thieves and men of bad character. Twelve months' hard labour each.

Fourth Court, December 15th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-127
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

127. DORA GIBSON, Assisting in the management of a brothel.

MR. ROWSELL Prosecuted.

WILLIAM THOMPSON (Inspector, R. Division). At 1 a.m. on November 24th I went to 7, Seaman's Road, Woolwich, and knocked at the door—I heard someone come along the passage and bolt the door, and I knocked several times—I went round to a yard at the back, where I saw a man—I got into a room by a window and in the room I saw the prisoner—I told her I was a police officer and should arrest her on a warrant for assisting in the management of a flat in a brothel—the flat consisted of a kitchen and two other rooms—the man was then brought in and said that was the room he was brought into and that was the window he was allowed to leave by,' and the prisoner was the woman he came with for an immoral purpose—she said something about the nuisance of the boys who broke the windows and threw mud at the door—there was another woman, Phillips, with her, who was arrested and who pleaded guilty—at the station the prisoner said in regard to her, "I am not her keeper," after she was charged—there is no communication between the flat and

the rest of the house—it was a bedroom in which I found the prisoner, who was dressed in a bodice and skirt—at the Police Court she asked that the man, Harding, should attend and give evidence; and we subpoenaed him.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I read the warrant to you the first opportunity I had; I did not read the warrant to you at the police station—I took Harding into the front room and asked him if Phillips was the woman he came in with and he said, "No," and then I took him into the back room, where you were, and he said, "Yes, that is the woman"—he told me he had been let out by the window after hearing me knocking—I knocked at the door with my hand—you made complaints about the boys being a nuisance.

JAMES GIBSON (Sergeant 48R) From November 11th to the 17th I kept observation on 7, Seaman's Road, Woolwich—I know the prisoner and the woman who has pleaded guilty by sight—I have seen prostitutes going to that house with men, including the two women—the prostitutes' names were Elliot, O'Connor and Fraser—there are no more—on November 11th, between 1.30 p.m. and midnight, I saw seven couples enter and leave; on the 12th, from 12.40 p.m. to 11.50 p.m., eight couples enter and leave; meaning that some of these women went twice, each time with different men; on the 13th, from 3.30 p.m. to 11.45 p.m., I saw six couples enter and leave; on the 14th, from 4 p.m. to 9.15 p.m., six couples enter and leave; 15th, from 2.40 p.m. to 10.50 p.m., six couples; 16th, from 2.30 p.m. to 7 p.m., five couples; 17th, 3.30 p.m. to 8 p.m., five couples—the prisoner admitted three couples on the 11th, two on the 12th, three on the 13th, three on the 14th, four on the 15th, one on the 16th, and four couples on the 17th—Alice Rose Hansilt, who occupied the house, and pleaded guilty, opened the door on other occasions—sometimes the prisoner took men home with her; on the 12th she took one—I have seen the prisoner go out with Phillips about 8 or 9 p.m. and return about 1 a.m.; sometimes they used to have men, and sometimes not—the prisoner at the Police Court, when the landlord was giving evidence, said that she did not know him and used to pay half the rent to Phillips.

Cross-examined. I saw you on November 16th at 11.45 a.m. with an armful of vegetables—I was standing about 100 yards across the field, and I saw you and Phillips going out with a dinner in your hand at 1.15 p.m.—I saw you again before 5 p.m.—I have seen Fraser go into your house—that is the woman you did a month for—I stood right opposite and I saw you opening the door—the woman at No. 8 declined to appear for you.

ARTHUR MANTLE (18 R.) I kept observation on 7, Seaman's Road—on November 11th I saw seven couples enter between 7.30 p.m. and midnight and saw seven leave; 12th, eight couples between 12.40 p.m. and 11.50 p.m.; on the 13th, six couples between 3.30 p.m. and 11.45 p.m.; on the 14th, six couples between 4 p.m. and 9.15 p.m.; 15th, six couples between 2.40 p.m. and 10.50 p.m.; 16th, five couples between 2.30 p.m. and 7 p.m.; and on the 17th, five between 3.30 p.m. and

8 p.m.—the women were prostitutes—the prisoner opened the door about half the number of times; roughly—at the time she was arrested a man pointed her out and said, "That is the woman I came home with"—we generally put in eight hours watching; we generally used to take our food with us—Gibson and I were together.

Cross-examined. I was with Gibson on November 15th; he was not by himself—he went and saw Mrs. O'Connor and the young man at her house in Plumstead Road, but they declined to attend, saying that they would not do you any good.

HERBERT GIBSON (By the prisoner). I do not know you—I let the place to Mrs. Phillips and you went to live with her—after the first week I had so many complaints that I was compelled to give you notice to quit—you paid one half of the rent, as you told me at the Woolwich Police Court.

HENRY HARDING (By the Court). I was with the prisoner and another woman in the New Road, Woolwich, and we had several drinks there and I went home with them both—I was the man in the backyard whom the policeman saw.

Cross-examined. Phillips introduced me to you as a friend—I found you in the Earl of Chatham and asked you to have a drink—Phillips told me she was living with a man named Spicer.

Re-examined. I went with both of the women for an immoral purpose—I cannot say whether Phillips was living with a friend—the prisoner admitted going home with me—I told the policeman that she was one of the women I went home with.

The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that never had any couples visited her flat, and what the policeman said was totally untrue; that she paid half the rent to Mrs. Phillips, who had pleaded guilty under a misapprehension as to what she was charged with; that the reason why this was being charged against her was that she had been previously convicted of keeping a brothel.

GUILTY . She then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of keeping a brothel at Woolwich Police Court. Three months' hard labour.


Before Mr. Recorder.

Old Court, December 11th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-128
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

128. ALBERT FISHER (22) , Breaking into the Merton Congregational School and stealing four collar studs and a brooch belonging to Albert James Layzelle.

MR. PASMORE Prosecuted.

ALBERT JAMES LAYZELLE . I live at 20, Effley Road, Wimbledon—on November 22nd I was at the Congregational Chapel School, where we were having a bazaar—several others were with me there—I left at 10.10. p.m. leaving these studs and brooch there (Produced) which are some of the articles stolen—I returned at 11.30 with a young friend, and before entering

the schoolroom I saw a light in the window—we heard a noise of someone moving, so we went and fetched a policeman—we brought one back and he went round to the back of the building and got in at the window—while I was there I heard him call out to someone to open the door—I did so, and saw him struggling with the prisoner—the place was then in darkness, and after a great struggle the policeman managed to get hold of the man, but another man escaped—the prisoner made no remark at all—a pane of glass had been removed from the window and the catch put back—nothing else had been stolen, but evidently we got there just as they got in—the place was closed at 11.15, when it was locked up and the windows safe, but I was not the last one there.

HARBERT FRANK STRAKER . I live at Hamilton Road, Wimbledon, and on November 22nd I was with Layzelle and went to the Congregational School with him—I was at the Police Court and heard his evidence, which I now corroborate—we went to the place and found it broken into, and the prisoner inside.

JOSEPH LONG (733 W.). On November 22nd, at 10.20 p.m., I was called by Layzelle and went with him to the Congregational School—I examined the door and found it was closed and I then got over the fence to the rear and found one of the windows with a pane taken out and the top lowered—I got in and saw the prisoner and another man whom I cannot describe, and who escaped—I had a struggle with the prisoner for about ten minutes before I got assistance—I took him to Wimbledon police station, where he was charged and made no reply—he was searched and the studs and brooch found on him—he was quite sober—he was not very violent, but we fell to the ground—the other man got away through, the window; there was no other way.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he did not know how the property got on him; that he had no home and had been walking about all day looking for work; that as it was a rough night he went to the back of the premises and found the window open and saw a man inside; that as he (the prisoner) was going out the constable jumped through the window and claimed him by the back of his handkerchief and said, "I will strangle you "; that in the yard the policeman tried to kick him; that he only went to the place to sleep, not knowing what kind of a place it was; that he went inside, but knew he had no business there; and that at the station Detective Williams came and showed him some things which he knew nothing about.

GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Croydon on March 3rd, 1905, in the name of George Roberts. Three other convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Third Court, December 12th and 13th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-129
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

129. ERNEST JAMES BRAZIER (29) , Feloniously wounding Ellen Brazier, with intent to do her grieviously bodily harm.

MR. W. R. WILSON Prosecuted.

ELLEN BRAZIER . I am the prisoner's wife, and live at 43, Comrie

Road, Brixton—on November 26th we had been out together, and returned home about 11.30 a.m.—we had had no words whatever—I was taking off my boot, and in a sitting attitude, and all that I can remember is that he must have come up to me then—I was stunned, but I was evidently struck twice—I am still suffering, but the wounds are healing—I thought my husband had been restless all day—there has been insanity in his family—he evidently had been drinking—we had been for a tram ride, and he had had one or two drinks while with me—I had not called him an improper name—I did not see what he struck me with, but ii it was with this hammer, he must have picked it up from the table, or from the coal cellar, which is in the kitchen, the same room we were in.

FRANK PENFOLD (682 W.) On November 26th, about 11.45 a.m., I was on duty in Lyham Road, when the prisoner came to me and said, "Constable, arrest me, I have struck my wife on the head with a chopper"—I went with him to 43, Comrie Road, where I saw Mrs. Brazier, with her head covered in blood, sitting on a chair in the kitchen—the prisoner stooped to the fire place, picked up this chopper, and said, "This is what I done it with," and then made another attempt to hit her—I had a struggle with him, and knocked him down—another policeman came, and we took him to the station some time afterwards, where he said, "I am sorry for what has occurred; I struck my wife with a hammer in the heat of passion—she called me an improper name, and I was mad at the time, but I see the seriousness of it now that I am collected"—we took him to the station on an ambulance—we had to struggle with him, and he got away from the ambulance once—he had been drinking.

DAVID WALLACE SMITH . I am Divisional Surgeon and an M. B. C. M., Glasgow—about 12 o'clock on 27th November I was called to see Mrs. Brazier—she was covered with blood, and in a hysterical condition—she was sitting at the time I examined her—I found she was suffering from two wounds in the scalp on the top of the head, which might have been inflicted with this hammer—I treated her afterwards—the wounds turned out not to be dangerous—I did not examine the prisoner, he was in the passage, which was very dark, but he was shouting—with scalp wounds there is danger of erysipelas, and if it does get admission to the wound it might set up poisoning—the skull was not broken—I think there must have been force used—the wound towards the back of the head was deeper than the other, it penetrated not into, but to the bone.

The prisoner, in his defence, said he was very sorry, but he had been drinking. GUILTY of unlawful wounding . Twelve months' hard labour.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-130
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

130. WILLIAM HENRY BROCKLEHURST, Obtaining credit without disclosing the fact that he was an undischarged bankrupt.

MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. THORNE Defended.

GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger to the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file in the bankruptcy of William Henry Brocklehurst, of 17, Bishopsgate Square, Bishopsgate Street Without—the

bankrupt describes himself as a merchant—the petition was a creditors' petition, dated October 18th, 1904—the date of the affidavit of service is October 28th, 1904, and that was filed on November 4th—an appointment was fixed for the examination of the bankrupt on November 21st, 1904—it was adjourned to January 18th, 1905, because the bankrupt had not surrendered, and as his whereabouts were not known, it was adjourned sine die—the bankrupt was not present, or represented, and no reason was alleged for his absence—the next step was that an affidavit was filed by the Assistant Official Receiver, Mr. Pope, that he had sent duplicate copies of the Order to different places, and that they had come back through the Dead Letter Office, the envelopes being marked "Gone away"—on February 14th, 1905, an application was made for a warrant—there is an affidavit on the file that a notice of the application for the warrant had been served at nine different places in nine different names—that was filed on March 6th by a clerk—the warrant was issued on March 14th, and subsequently executed on November 3rd, at 2 o'clock—it also appears on the file that the Receiving Order was published in the "London Gazette" on November 19th, 1904, and the Adjudication on January 6th, 1905—the bankrupt has not been discharged.

ERNEST BARNARD NICHOLS . I am managing clerk to Timbrell and Deighton, solicitors, of 44, King William Street, E. C.—in October, 1904 our firm were acting for Mr. Allen, who had a judgment debt against the defendant for £324 3s. 11d.; the balance of a debt of £500—his account was garnisheed—the debt arose out of a dissolution of a partnership between him, Allen, and two others—I filed a petition, and a copy was given to me which I tried to serve on Brocklehurst at Devonshire Square, through his solicitor, but without success—I obtained information, and in consequence went on October 28th, 1904, to a confectioner's shop in High Street, Peckham—he was in the shop, and said to me, "What do you want?"—I had seen him before on several occasions—I said, "I have a bankruptcy petition to serve upon you"—he said, "Well, you will get nothing here; this shop belongs to my wife"—I handed him the bankruptcy petition, which he took with his left hand, and with his right he aimed a blow at me—I warded off the blow, and a lady standing close by forced him into an inner room at the back of the shop, and slammed the door—I walked out of the shop, and when outside the defendant came out after me, walked to the edge of the pavement, tore the sealed copy of the petition into fragments, and threw it into the road—I did not see him again till he was in custody—I had previously conversed with him about Allen's debt, so that he would know for whom I was acting.

Cross-examined. Allen was our client, and originally the defendant's partner—I believe he was also his brother-in-law—not quite two-thirds of the debt was paid off—I have not sworn that two-thirds were paid off, but two-thirds were guaranteed by the other partners, an action was brought to enforce the guarantee, and a compromise was effected, of which they paid a proportion—if the deposition states that two-thirds of the debt was paid off it is wrong—approximately £200 was paid out

of the £350, which seems rather less than two-thirds of the balance.

WILLIAM MORGAN . I am a tipstaff at the Royal Courts of Justice—I was entrusted with a warrant for the defendant's arrest, which was executed about November 1st—I have had the warrant in my possession for some months, but as I could not find the prisoner it remained in abeyance—it was issued about March 14th, 1905.

HENRY CHERLES FLACK . I am a traveller of the W. & F. Faulkner's branch of the Imperial Tobacco Co. of Great Britain and Ireland, Limited—I called at the shop 2a, Chestnut Road, Balham, in February of this year, and saw the defendant, when he gave me an order, which I forwarded to my principals to be executed, to the amount of £16 19s. 5d.—on February 22nd I got a further order for goods to the amount of 13s. 10d. from Mr. Willis, the manager—no one informed me that the defendant was an undischarged bankrupt—I did not know it—the goods were supplied upon credit—Mr. Dennis was present; he travels for another firm—the goods were delivered on the 13th; they were ordered on the 8th—I asked for an order for more loose tobacco, when the defendant replied that I was not to be greedy—he mentioned several names: Lambert & Butler, Hignett, and Ogden, but Lambert & Butler was the principal—I was paid something on account in March or April on an account of £2 11s. 9d. less Is. 9d, so that the actual amount I received was £2 10s.—an invoice was produced, and the money was taken from the till, where there were several other bills.

Cross-examined. W. F. Faulkner and several other tobacco companies have combined together, so as to become one firm, with the same share-holders, and I suppose the same directors, but I have not gone into that—these several firms amalgamated some four or five years ago, when the Americans came over here—a circular was sent out certifying the customers of the amalgamation—I dealt with the defendant twice—I visited his shop seven or eight times, I think.

THEODORE PROCTER . I live at 3, Eddystone Road, Crofton Road, Brockley—I am a traveller to the Hignett Branch of the Imperial Tobacco Company—I called at the defendant's shop in Chestnut Grove, Balham, on February 10th last—he wrote out this order for £12 13s. 3d., and signed it—the goods were supplied, and the invoice sent about three days afterwards—this is a copy (Produced)—I have not received any payment for those goods—I called again on March 10th, when I saw the manager—I saw the invoices, but neither the defendant, the manager, nor anybody told me that the defendant was an undischarged bankrupt.

Cross-examined. There is "Bought of Hignett Brothers" in large letters, and underneath in small letters, "Branch of the Imperial Tobacco Company of Great Britain and Ireland"—Hignett Brothers are part of the company; the smaller branches of the firm all form one family, or company—I cannot say whether there is one capital, but I get paid by the Imperial Tobacco Company—I often get letters from the head office—I have never been paid by Lambert & Butler's branch—I cannot name the directors, but I think there are two, if not three, of Hignett Brothers' directors in the Imperial Company—the manager of Hignett Brothers has

nothing to do with Lambert & Butler, because he is the manager of his own branch—a customer of mine took her money due to Hignett Brothers to Lambert & Butler's branch, and it was transferred, and though I cannot swear to the exact facts, I feel sure the books must have been put right—the accountant would adjust that, as the books are sent on to Bedminster, to the Registered Office of the Imperial Tobacco Company—I think the defendant knew of the combination of firms, but I have not asserted that he did—there is nothing mysterious about it; the scheme was put before the public, and the public took shares—the combination has existed five, six, or seven years—Hignett Brothers joined it at the formation, probably five years ago; I am not quite sure—I might have brought the dates, but did not think they would be wanted.

Cross-examined. The conditions of sale are stated on the back of the invoice (Produced) of the Imperial Tobacco Company—Hignett Brothers, or the Imperial Tobacco Company got a medal for their tobaccos—those medals were granted to Hignett Brothers.

JOHN MCCALLUM . I am London traveller for the London branch of the Imperial Tobacco Company of Great Britain and Ireland, Limited—on February 7th I called at 2a, Chestnut Grove, and saw the defendant—I asked him for an order, and he gave me one, of which this is the invoice, amounting to £12 0s. 5d.—I made a note of the order in my book in his presence—I had received previously this post card from Players that he would call—on March 1st he called again—I asked him if the goods had arrived—he said they had—he said that Mr. Willis, who was there, was acting as his manager—shortly after April 1st I called and asked for payment—he said he could not do so then, but he would do so later—up to April 17th he had not done so, and on that day I called to see him—he showed me a copy of a writ which had been served upon him—he said he had remitted in consequence of that writ £6 8s. a portion of the account, and that if the Imperial Tobacco Company had waited he would have paid his account without the necessity of a writ.

Cross-examined. He expressed surprise at receiving the writ—I am certain he did not express surprise at all the claims being received together, or at the claims from Hignetts, Faulkners, Ogdens, and F.& J. Smith being all on the same writ—I represent Players, who are a branch of the Imperial Tobacco Company, which comprises various tobacco manufacturing firms, of which Players is one—the money is paid into the company's banking account, but with regard to the allocation of the money I know nothing.

ALBERT EDWARD TWIDDY . I am London traveller for the Ogden Branch of the Imperial Tobacco Company, Limited—on February 17th I saw the defendant at his shop—he introduced me to his manager, Mr. Willis, saying that he would give me an order, which he did—the order was made out in duplicate form by Willis, and afterwards passed by the defendant, who took the order, and saw what Willis had written out—the invoice was subsequently rendered to the defendant, and goods were supplied to the amounts of £7 13s. 5d., and £2 13s. 11d. for tobacco and

cigarettes—I asked for a reference, but as he said that goods had been supplied from various branches of the firm I did not further press for it; I was satisfied, and I accepted the order on those grounds—I had never heard that he was an undischarged bankrupt.

Cross-examined. After Willis had made it out the defendant looked down the order in the ordinary way—£7 13s. 5d. was sent direct to the Ogden branch of the Imperial Tobacco Company, Limited, Boundary Road, Liverpool.

GEORGE WILLIAM SALISBURY I am a traveller to Rutter & Company, tobacco manufacturers, of Lincoln's Inn Fields—the business is carried on by Mr. Arthur Rutter, who is the proprietor—some time before February 14th I had called at 2a, Chestnut Grove, Balham—when I saw the defendant he put up his hand, and said, "Holloa, old man, come in," and he pretended to recognise me, and said that he had known me formerly in business at Camberwell—I did not recognise him—I had no recollection of him at all—he gave me to understand his name was Brook—he said he was going to Open the shop as a tobacconist, and asked me to advise him what to stock, and so on—I marked certain goods which I thought suitable, on a list, and he said when he was ready to open the business he would send on an order—I asked him for references, and he said, "If you will refer you will find my name on your books at an address in the Camberwell Road," and he said, "Surely you remember me"—I said, No, I have no recollection of you"—I left the premises—the following day I looked up the ledger and found the name of "Mrs. Brock" in the Camberwell New Road, 100 something, I cannot recollect the number, and on the strength of seeing that I trusted him—he sent me this order in writing three weeks later, signed "W. Brock," which I executed—I sent the goods marked upon this invoice, amounting to £8 19s. 7d.—I afterwards got this order, signed "W. Brock, p.p. W. H. Willis, Manager," and in pursuance of that order I sent him this further invoice for £1 7s. 6d., dated 15th March, the order probably being given on the 13th—I called at 2s, Chestnut Grove, about April 16th—I saw the defendant—he instructed Mr. Willis to give me an order, but he did not stay the whole time, and I supplied goods in this invoice amounting to £11 8s. 4d., the whole amounting to £21 15s. 5d.—before I got the last order I asked for a cheque which Mr. Brock promised he would send on the same evening, so that I should get it the following morning for the two invoices—the cheque did not come—I received no references—I did call at the shop at a later date, but the business was then sold—about four weeks later I found a stranger in possession—I made various inquiries, but I could not find the defendant's whereabouts—when I called on him in January he introduced me to his wife, but I do not remember what was said—I believe he said, "Mr. Salisbury, my dear; Mrs. Brock"—I do not think the lady said she remembered me—I did not remember her—he did not tell me he was an undischarged bankrupt—I did not know it, or I would not have trusted him.

Cross-examined. The defendant said Willis would find out what he wanted, and would give the order, and he went away on that occasion—

we give a trade discount on some goods of 1 1/4 per cent, or 2 1/2 per cent, on some tobaccos, and even 5 per cent, on others—roughly 9s. would come off this account for £8 19s. 7d.—I never gave him anything like 15 per cent or 10 per cent.

Wednesday, December 13th.

CHARLES HENRY WILLIS . In February last I was engaged as manager of a tobacconist's shop, 2a, Chestnut Grove, Balham, by the defendant—I was introduced to him in the City by a friend—I saw him first about February 10th, and began my duties as manager about February 17th—the shop was opened on February 24th or 25th—between February 17th and 25th I attended the shop daily, checking off goods and getting the shop in order—I had not been a manager before, but 1 had had two businesses of my own in the tobacco trade many years ago—goods came in from, amongst others, the Imperial Tobacco Company from various branches—I have seen invoices from Faulkners, Clares, Hignetts, and Ogdens—I checked off the goods with the invoices which were then filed—this is my proposed agreement of engagement, which I did not sign—I wrote it on February 13tb—this order is in my writing—I gave it to Rutter's traveller, Mr. Salisbury; it is signed by the defendant in the name of "Brock"—I knew him as Brocklehurst—asked him, "How is it this is in the name of Brock?"—he said he had done a lot of business with these people and had paid them a lot of money—the invoice came in the name of Rutter—on February 24th I gave this order to Faulkner's traveller for 13s. 10d.—I had the defendant's authority to order anything I required, but not to exceed £10 or £12—so far as I know the name of Brocklehurst was never mentioned to Salisbury or Rutters—I never saw the licence—this application for a licence signed "Charles Edward Willis" is in the defendant's writing—I do not know why that was done—it was not done with my authority—I first knew of this application for a licence since this case—I was never consulted about it—I never heard of any other name as the proprietor of the business until about a fortnight before the disposal of it which was about the middle of May, when the defendant said, "This business is no longer mine; I have assigned the business to my wife"—he resided on the premises with his wife—up to that time Mrs. Brocklehurst had assisted occasionally—I had never received instructions from her with regard to the business—late in May the name was put up, after the assignment to his wife, of "Ellen E. Brocklehurst" over the facial—the business was sold to Mr. Hooker about May 27th, and he went into possession with a manageress named Mrs. Hart, and I had nothing more to do with the business, only that I remained with him over the Saturday and Monday, as he asked me to do so—on the Monday I left the business finally—at that time arrears of salary and a commission on the sale of the business were due to me to the amount of £12 14s.—the commission was £6—the salary included a month's notice, and was at the rate of 30s. a week—I did not receive that money—there was some salary in arrear—I received £5 16s. from the defendant when the business was transferred to Mr. Hooker—there was a bargain between me and the defendant that I was to receive

£20 when the business was transferred, but he said, "I cannot afford to give you £20 out of £120," so I said, "Very good, we had better split the difference"—the commission was 5 per cent, on the purchase price, £120—of that I received £5 16s., so that £1 4s. was still due for commission—the total sum due to me is £12 14s. up to the time I left—the odd 14s. is the balance of 25s. for some bags that 1 left—I never got the balance—I saw the defendant about it at Tooting—I knew that Faulkners, Hignetts, and Ogdens were connected with the Imperial Tobacco Company in one concern—I did not know that the defendant was an undischarged bankrupt.

Cross-examined. When I was engaged by the defendant he said he wanted a manager because he was engaged in the glass trade—I was left in control of the business to a very considerable extent while he was away travelling in another business—he said he not want to increase the stock, as it was getting very large, and he gave me instructions to limit the purchases to £10 or £12 from any one firm—he signed the orders to the travellers when he was there—sometimes they were written by the traveller at my dictation, but they are mostly in my writing—the defendant did not supply the items; I made the orders out.

Cross-examined. I remember Mr. Salisbury asking for a cheque—the defendant said he would forward it.

WILLIAM PICHER . I am a sign writer—I received instructions on May 26th to write the name of "Brocklehurst" over the shop in the Chestnut Road, Balham.

WILLIAM PHIPP (Detective V.) On November 6th last I arrested the defendant on a warrant, after he had returned from the Bankruptcy Court—I read it to him—it charged him with incurring a debt with the Imperial Tobacco Company of over £20 without informing them that he was an undischarged bankrupt—he said, "All right; I have a perfect answer to it when the times comes"—I took him to the police station at Trinity Road, Upper Tooting, where he was charged with that offence—he said, "Read that warrant again, please"—I read it—he then said, "I did not know that I was a bankrupt till last Wednesday. This is all through a silly partner; I never ordered any goods, and they cannot prove it. This is nothing less than a conspiracy, but I shall see it through now, and get it over"—I was in Court when the defendant was before the Magistrate on three occasions—on the second hearing he said he had never been served with the bankruptcy petition—that was on November 14th, when Boyle was giving evidence as to the contents of the file.

JOHN SAMUEL COWELL . In my district of Balham applications for tobacco licences come into my charge—I produce an application for a tobacco licence signed in the name of Charles Henry Willis.

FRANCIS WILLIAM BOUSTED . I am a clerk in the office of the Registrar of Public Companies at Somerset House—I produce the file of the Imperial Tobacco Company of Great Britain and Ireland, Limited, and the Certificate of Registration, which is dated December 10th, 1901.

ALFRED ROBERT FAULKNER . I am a director of the Imperial Tobacco Company of Great Britain and Ireland, Limited—the company is formed by an amalgamation of a number of tobacco manufacturers in Great

Britain and Ireland, as appears in the Memorandum and Articles of Association (Produced)—they have a common fund, and they form one company.

Cross-examined. The heads of the former firms practically manage their own businesses; there are managing directors of the different branches, who are merely collectors in the first instance, and all the branches stand in the general pool.


Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K. C.

Fourth Court, December 14th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-131
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

131. GEORGE HARDING (34) , Feloniously wounding Charles Kurz with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. MORRIS Prosecuted.

JANE KURZ . I am the wife of Charles Kurz and live with him at 79 Kirkwood Road, Peckham—the prisoner had been lodging in our house for six or seven months, and up to the day of the assault owed a month's rent—on Tuesday evening, November 14th, at 6 p.m. he came in, and later at 11 p.m. he came with a friend in a cab—he pushed open my living room door and my bedroom door—I got my son and his friend to hold the door, so he could not pass through—I said to my son, "Hold the door until I get father into the street," and just as I got to the shop door the prisoner pushed me on one side and aimed a blow at my husband and hit him—I saw my husband stagger up the street and run, Roberts running after him—my son and his friend brought my husband back, covered with blood—a constable came up with Roberts.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. You went upstairs to your room first (The prisoner handed the COURT a sketch of the house)—my son held the bedroom door and his friend held the living room door—you had threatened my husband earlier in the evening—you had to get by my son and his friend to get into the shop—my husband had gone on into the shop—you had not been lately into our rooms, but you used to play cards with my husband—my husband had had a drop to drink on this evening—he did not try to get up to your rooms to assault your wife—he wanted to go up the stairs to cut your gas off and my son and his friend stopped him—he did not say he would throw your wife over the banisters—I never knew him to fight the banisters—I do not know when the animosity between my husband and you first started; he does not tell me his business—I did not see him fall.

CHARLES KURZ . I am an upholsterer, of 79, Kirkwood Road—the prisoner has been lodging at my house six or seven months, occupying a front and a back room—on Tuesday, November 14th, the day of the assault, he owed me exactly a month's rent—he came home about 11 p.m. in a cab, I seeing him through the kitchen window—he pushed through the two doors, knocked my son and his friend down and just caught me up at the shop door, hit me on the head, and kicked me right out on to the pavement, making me fall on all fours—I got up and ran for my life holloaing "Police"—I do not know how I was brought back—I do not remember the prisoner saying anything when I came back—I was

taken to the infirmary, where I remained three weeks—I discharged myself—on the morning of the day of this assault I went to the prisoner and told him that if he did not pay his rent I would go to the furniture people and tell them to take his furniture away, as I wanted my rooms empty—his furniture was taken away that afternoon—I tried to go upstairs in the evening before the assault to ask for the rent, but my wife would not let me.

Cross-examined. You were mad drunk—I remember being in the Glengall Tavern with you about two months ago—I never borrowed any money from you on October 1st or 2nd, or at any time—I had to pay £7 rent that quarter—it is not a fact that I wanted you to go and rob my sister of £10 and on your declining to do so got somebody else to do it, and with £5 I got out of it and £2 borrowed from you paid my rent—it is not the fact that I had my knife into you after that, because you were with me and you took the money, £5 of it—you made a bet with my brother-in-law—he won £10 and you stuck to the money—you are a book maker and I introduced you to my brother-in-law—I said I knew a certain winner and he put £10 on it with you—on one occasion I got £2 10s. out of £5 which you got out of my brother-in-law for introducing him to you—I got £5 from my sister with another man, Mr. Lucas, who got another £5—I did not pay my rent with that money—I did not know on the morning of November 13th that the money was due for the hire of your furniture—you did not tell me when I asked you for the rent that the £2 you lent me would come off it—I did say to you that if you did not pay me my rent I would have your home taken away, and I did so—I did not try and go upstairs to assault your wife—at 10.30 p.m. on that night I only went upstairs to ask you for my rent—I tried to turn off the gas, and I was justified in doing so—I do not know whether you went upstairs when you came in or not—we had not had a row on this day before—you pushed my wife away and hit me, I believe, with the door key; you were behind me—when I said at the Police Court that you said to me, "I will murder you, you b—," I was referring to the morning when I asked you for rent—I would not have a row with you—the other man holloaed out to me, when I ran away, "I will murder you, you swine"—you struck me just outside the shop.

JOHN CONWAY (183 P.) On the night of Tuesday, November 14th, I was called to this house in Kirkwood Road—I asked the prisoner where the man was that was supposed to be assaulted and he said, "I do not know. Has a man a right to turn out my gas? When I put a penny in the slot I expect to get a pennyworth of gas"—I went off and returned with, the prosecutor and Roberts—the prosecutor said, "They threatened they would murder me" and the prisoner said, "Yes, you b—, I would like to kill you"—I took Roberts to the police station and the prisoner followed—when charged he said, "I was not near the place at the time"—he seemed to be sober.

Cross-examined. I did not hear a man holloaing "Police"—you did not say, "Is it right that a man should turn off my gas and insult my wife?"—I advised you to go inside and have your quarrels inside the

house—Mrs. Kurz did not say to me," My husband is in Kimberley Road, being assaulted," and I did not say to her, "I am not here to run after your tale or anybody else's tale"—I was about 150 yards away when I was first called to the house—Kimberley Road was being done up with flint stones—when I brought back the prosecutor you did not say to him, "That serves you right, you b—"—I said to you, "You might as well come to the station as well"; you came quite voluntarily—I cannot say whether you came to bail out Roberts—you were called in from the waiting room by the inspector and charged with Roberts at about 11.30 p.m.—I do not know what happened on your arrival at the station, as I went off to get a doctor for the prosecutor—as the prosecutor was recovering consciousness he mentioned your name—neither Mrs. Kurz, her son, nor his friend said anything then about your having assaulted the prosecutor—the first suggestion of your having done so was about an hour and a half after you had been at the police station.

WILLIAM JOHN CHARLES KEATS . I am a medical superintendent of the Camberwell Infirmary—about 2 a.m. on November 15th the prosecutor was brought into me and I examined him—he had an incised wound on the right side of his head, about one and three-quarter inches long; a clean cut about an inch long on his right wrist that had severed the radial artery, and he had another wound on the fourth finger of his right hand; abrasions just above the right knee, and one abrasion on the dorsal surface on the third finger—the clean cut wounds were caused by some sharp instrument; it certainly could not have been caused by the fist—he was unconscious, when admitted, from the loss of blood and concussion of the brain—he was very dangerously ill for two days from heart failure through loss of blood—he was under my care until December 5th, when he discharged himself against my advice, having been twenty days in the infirmary altogether—these clean-cut wounds could not have been caused by a fall unless he fell on a peculiarly arranged system of sharp surfaces—the dangerous element was the great loss of blood caused principally by the cutting of the radial artery on the right wrist.

Cross-examined. The blow which caused the wound in the forehead could have been delivered from the back by, I should think, a knife—falling on flint stones could not have caused that wound under any circumstances—there were no bruises on the prosecutor's body; he had an abrasion on the knee—there would not be a bruise from a kick unless the force was applied to a part causing rupture of a blood vessel; he might have been kicked in a part where the blood vessels are well protected—if a man is kicked from behind it might leave bruises, but not necessarily—I said at the Police Court that the wound on the forehead might have been caused by a fall on a very peculiarly shaped surface; I did not say that it might have been caused by a fall—an ordinary penknife would have caused that wound, and it would not require a very hard blow.

HENDERSON SHARP (Inspector P.) Early on the morning of November 15th the prisoner was brought into the station, and on being charged said, "I was not near the man."

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on arriving home on this

night his wife informed him that the prosecutor had threatened to throw her over the banisters; that he went to the 'prosecutor's kitchen, but the prosecutor, guessing his intention, ran up the street holloaing "Police "; that he did not strike the prosecutor at all, but would have done so if he could; that after the prosecutor was brought back he did not say to him, "I would like to murder you, you b—," but, "It serves you right you b—"; that he went voluntarily to the station; and that on the prosecutor going out of the shop door there were no injuries on him at all.

Evidence for the Defence.

ANNIE HARDING . (By the COURT.) I am the prisoner's wife—on the day of the assault the prosecutor insulted me on several occasions; he knocked violently at my door, and was going to turn me out into the street—he was drunk and wanted to fight everybody—I have had to go to a Magistrate before about his conduct, and I believe he cautioned him against him using threats against me; that was after this case—Mrs. Kurz, her son, and his friend prevented the prosecutor from coming up to me—he cut the gas off and did everything he could to quarrel—when my husband came home at 11 p.m. I told him of it, on which he went to the door and asked the prosecutor what he meant by it—I went to the side door with my little son, and I saw the prosecutor come out of the shop door and run as well as he was able up the street—being beastly drunk, he could not run very fast—about a minute or two afterwards my husband came out of the door followed by Mrs. Kurz—he did not strike the prosecutor—I swear the prosecutor had no wounds when he went out of the shop.

Cross-examined. I was not in the shop; I stood at the side door—my husband could not have struck the prosecutor without my seeing it, because there was a glass window, and I could see into the shop—the prosecutor never staggered as he came from the shop door—he opened the door—my husband never kicked him—the prosecutor was a considerable way up the street before he fell; he slipped—we did not owe the prosecutor any rent; I believe there was a little disagreeableness about it—the prosecutor did not ask that evening for the rent—my husband did not say anything when the prosecutor was brought back; he merely went voluntarily to the police station.

GODWIN HARDING . (By the COURT.) I am the prisoner's son—my father was out all day long, and he came home at 6 p.m. and went out again—while he was out the prosecutor came upstairs and threatened to throw my mother over the stairs—mother told father about it when he came home and father went into the prosecutor's room and asked him what he meant by it—I and mother stood at the side door and I saw the prosecutor running out of the shop in the direction of Kirkwood Road—a minute afterwards my father came out of the shop, followed by Mrs. Kurz and the prisoner's two sons.

Cross-examined. Father was sober—nothing went on in the shop—there was no given reason why Mr. Kurz should throw mother over the banisters—he did not say anything about rent—father did not owe him a farthing.


Fourth Court, December 16th, 1905.

11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-132
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

132. GEORGE ROBERTS (34) , Feloniously wounding Charles Kurz with intent to do some grievous bodily harm to him.

MR. MORRIS Prosecuted.

JANE KURZ I am the wife of Charles Kurz, and live at 79, Kirkwood Road, Peckham—I recollect Tuesday, November 14th, when I was at home with my husband—I recollect a man named Harding, who lodges in our house, returning home that night about 11 o'clock—the prisoner was with him; they drove up in a cab—I think the prisoner stayed outside the house—something occurred in the house and as a result my husband went to see what was the matter—I next saw that my husband was running up the street shouting out "Police"—I saw the prisoner run after him—I did not hear the prisoner call out anything.

CHARLES KURZ . I am an upholsterer—on Tuesday, November 14th, Harding came home about 11 o'clock with the prisoner—they came in a cab—something occurred in the house and I went out; into the street—when there I was hit and fell—I picked myself up and ran up the street, followed by the prisoner—he called out, "I will murder you, you swine"—the blood was running over my face and I could not run very far—the prisoner caught me—I ran up Kimberley Road and said to the prisoner, "Don't hit me; I have never done you any harm"—he hit me on the back of the head—I knew no more—I was picked up and taken to the station—I there saw the doctor and they woke me up—I said Harding hit me once—I do not believe the prisoner would have hit me if Harding had not worked him up—I have nothing against the prisoner; he is a nice chap—I have known him two or three times—he hit me into the road and kicked me—at the station I was asked who assaulted me and I said, "Harding and Tom'—Tom is the prisoner—I believe at the time of the assault the prisoner was drunk, otherwise I do not think he would have done it.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. At the corner of Kimberley Road another man tried to stop me as I was running—I did not one day, when I was quarrelling with Harding, say to him that I would get my own back along with you for working in my place—I have no grudge against you; it is the other man; my life is not worth twopence now that he is at home—I did not tell the man who picked me up in Kimberley Road that I had fallen down and cut my head.

JOHN CONWAY (183 P.) On November 14th last, at 11.30 p.m., I was called to a house in Kirkwood Road—from what I heard I went up the street and saw the prisoner detained by four men—the prosecutor was a few yards away—he was smothered in blood, he had no hat or jacket, on and he was rather dazed—the four men saw me coming and were bringing the prisoner to me—I asked the prosecutor in the prisoner's presence who did it—he said, "that man," pointing to the prisoner—I asked him if he would charge him—he said he would—I then took the prisoner into custody—at the station he was charged and in reply said. "I have never seen the man before"—when I arrested him he said, "I don' t

know what you are taking me for; I have only just come up. You will see it was not me, because I have no blood on me."

Cross-examined. The four men never said that you knew nothing About it; they said, "Here's the man, constable"—I did not say at the station that I walked with you back to the prosecutor's house and there asked the prosecutor if he would charge you.

Re-examined. The house is on the direct way to the station.

WILLIAM JOHN CHARLES KEATS . I am medical superintendent at the Camberwell Infirmary—on November 15th the prosecutor was brought in and I examined him—I found he had three wounds, one on the right of his forehead running from the hair towards the nose obliquely, nearly three-quarters of an inch long; one on the right wrist, a straight one, about one and a quarter inch and a cat on the ring finger of the right hand; then he had an abrasion on the right knee and he was unconscious from loss of blood and concussion of the brain—he remained dangerously ill and was likely to die from heart failure—he was under my treatment nearly twenty days.

Cross-examined. If the prosecutor says he was kicked out of the house on to the pavement, probably only the injury to the knee was caused in that way—the other injuries would not be caused through a fall.

Re-examined. There were three wounds, all close cut ones made by some sharp instrument.

By the prisoner. I found no bruise at the back of his head.

CHARLES KURZ (Re-examined). I do not know whether the prisoner had an instrument or not—I only felt one blow at the back and that rendered me unconscious

HENDERSON SHARP (Inspector P.) Early on Wednesday morning, November 15th, the prisoner was brought to the station—in reply to the charge he said, "I have never seen the man before"—the prosecutor lay for two hours at the station unconscious—the prisoner was the worse for drink.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, stated that on the night in question he drove up to the house with Harding in a cab; that as he was paying the cabman he dropped some money in the road; that he and the cabman looked for the money, when the prosecutor rushed by him shouting "Police" and "Murder"; that the prosecutor ran up the street; that he (the prisoner) went up with' other people to see what was the matter; that when he got to the top of the road the prosecutor said, "That is one of the men; lock him up," when he (the prisoner) was handed over to a constable.

Evidence for the Defence.

---- BIRD. (By the prisoner). I am a decorator—I did not see the row in question, but I saw you right away from it—where you were you could not have been anywhere near it—I heard calls of "Police"—I ran and saw you running—I did not know it was you then and you joined the crowd round the prosecutor—I said to you, "Hullo, Tom, what have you done?" and you replied, "Nothing"—you were then in custody.

Cross-examined. I only know the prisoner as "Tom"—I am no relative of his.

ANNIE HARDING . On November 14th I saw the prosecutor run up the street—the prisoner was standing talking to a cabman—I then heard cries of "Police"—the cab drove away, leaving the prisoner standing on the kerb—several people went to see what was the matter—a constable came upon the scene and went in the direction of the cries—I saw the prisoner go in the same direction—about ten minutes afterwards he was brought back by the constable—I said to the prisoner, "Hullo, what's the matter?"—he said, "Nothing"—I said to the constable, "What's up, policeman?"—he said, Oh, this man is charged; this man, of course, must come with me, but that will be all right"—that is all I know, but I know that the prisoner was nowhere near till after I heard the cries, as I saw him standing on the kerb—my husband is not, to my knowledge, a friend, of yours—you have known him about a fortnight, I should think.

Cross-examined. I stood at my door the whole of the time—my husband stood there also—I could not see what was going on in Kimberley Road—I could see across to Kimberley Road—I did not see four men take hold of the prisoner—I did not see the prosecutor fall in the street or being knocked about or kicked in the street.

GUILTY of unlawful wounding . He then

PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Greenwich Police Court on June 13th, 1904,in the name of Thomas Williams. The police stated that there were three other convictions recorded against him, and that the prosecutor and the prisoner, as well as Harding, who was charged yesterday, were members of a gang of betting sharps. Six months' hard labour


View as XML