Source: The Proceedings of the Old Bailey
Date: 3 March 1851
Place: Haggerstone
SAMUEL COLE, robbery on William Daniel Bishop,
and stealing from his person 1 purse, 1 chain, and 1 key, value 5s.;
an order for payment of 4l. 4s., 12 sovereigns,
1 half-crown, and 2 shillings; his property.
MR. CHARNOCK conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM DANIEL BISHOP. I am a dancing-master, of Grove-terrace Victoria-grove, Stoke Newington. On 23rd Jan., about nine o'clock at night, I was going home across the Haggerstone-fields, towards Dalston—there are lights at the extremity of the fields—the prisoner came near me—I am sure of him by his voice and his height—I could not see his features, it was too dark—he said it was a dark night; I said it was—I saw no other person—I said I had missed the footpath; he said, "Oh never mind, I am used to the place"—I said the lights at the further corner of the field were sufficient direction for me; he went a little way to the right, and I saw some other persons; I could not say how many, it was so dark—the prisoner crossed from the right to the left, and came to a place where one part of the ground was higher than the other, a sort of embankment—he said, "Here is the path, sir; give me your hand, and I will assist you"—I gave him my hand, and another man came behind me, and pulled me by the feet—I called for assistance, but he got me down—the men over me did not allow me to call long—while lying there the prisoner cut my trowsers at the right-hand side, and took out the pocket, containing my purse, twelve sovereigns, half-a-crown, two shillings, and a check for 4l. 4s.—they then got hold of my watch-guard; the swivel broke, and left my watch in my pocket—they got the chain; it was a metal one—the prisoner said to the men, "Hold him down"—he had a short shooting-jacket, and a cap—my hat and watch-key were brought to me next morning—I gave my trowsers to the police—on the Saturday week afterwards Morrell took me to the station at Hoxton—the prisoner was brought down-stairs with two other persons; Morrell spoke to him, and I knew him directly by his voice—I have not the least doubt about it.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. Had you arranged with the constable that he should speak to him? A. He said he should speak to all of them—I was perfectly self-possessed on this night—I had felt rather nervous, but had had 2d-worth of gin—it was a very foggy night.
MR. CHARNOCK. Q. Were you quite sober? A. Yes; the constable spoke to all the three men—I have not the least doubt that the prisoner is the man.
WILLIAM MORRELL (policeman, N 135.) On Thursday evening, 23rd Jan., between half-past seven and eight o'clock, I went in private clothes, with other officers, to the Hope coffee-house, Kingsland-road—I saw the prisoner there, and spoke to him—I have known him for years—there were four others with him—he had on a cap, and I think a short shooting-jacket, with pockets in front—I came out, and remained outside with Cripps for six or' seven minutes, some distance off—I saw the prisoner come out of the Hope with four others, and walk up the Kingsland-road, towards Haggerston-fields, which are about three-quarters of a mile off—we watched them till they were out of sight—we were waiting for something else—I heard of the robbery next morning, Friday—on the Sunday I saw Bishop, who described the man who had attacked him—for a week after that I was looking after the prisoner at his usual haunts—I know where he lives—I went to the Hope several times, but did not meet with him—I found him there on the second Saturday after the robbery, between six and seven—I told him what I wanted him for—it was not for this—he said, "I will go with you"—two others were taken with him—at ten that night Bishop came to the station—the prisoner and the two others were brought down together—directly Bishop saw the prisoner, he said, "That is the man"—the prisoner then said something, and Bishop said, "I can swear to you by your voice and by your height and size, for you walked across the whole of the field with me"—the prisoner said, "It was not me"—I produce Bishop's trowsers—they have been cut down and across—the right-pocket has been cut, and the left cut quite out, apparently with a knife.
Cross-examined. Q. The moment the prosecutor saw him, he recognised him? A. Yes, before he heard him speak—I had told him I would speak to him, and I did; but there was no necessity for that, for he knew him at once—his face was towards him, coming down-stairs—I am positive about the date being Thursday, the 23rd.
DAVID CRIPPS (policeman, N 340.) I have known the prisoner four or five years—I was with Morrell on 23rd Jan., shortly before eight o'clock, and saw the prisoner and four others at the Hope—I did not speak to him, but Morrell did, and I have no doubt about him—we waited outside for a few minutes, and saw him and four others come out, and go in the direction of Haggerstone-fields—he had a short coat, and I believe a cap, but I am not positive—I was present on 1st Feb., when he was taken—I had searched for him at the different houses in the neighbourhood, and twenty times or more at the Hope, but could not find him—I was at the station when Bishop came—the prisoner and three others were placed in a row, and directly he spoke, Bishop said, "That is the man, I can swear to him"—we had taken him, in consequence of the description Bishop had given of him, which corresponded with him.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you made any arrangement with Bishop? A. No.
MR. CHARNOCK. Q. The prisoner said, "Is that the man who has come to look at us?" A. Yes; Bishop immediately identified him.
GEORGE FIVEASH (policeman, N 46.) On Friday morning, 24th Jan., I went to Haggerstone-fields, and found this hat and key at the spot which was pointed out to me.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know Barnet-grove? A. Yes; it is about ten minutes' walk from the Hope.
WILLIAM DANIEL BISHOP re-examined. This is the hat and key which I lost.
Witnesses for the Defence.
FREDERICK WILLIAM FLECK. I am foreman to Mr. Waring, a house and estate agent, at Prince's-court, Bethnal-green. I have been there about two years—the prisoner was at work for Mr Waring on 22nd Jan., as a paper-hanger—I do not know how long—the latest time was after seven o'clock, but before eight—he was then at Mr. Waring's house, who paid him seven or eight shillings—he had had some money on account in the week—Mr. Waring is not here.
Cross-examined by MR. CHARNOCK. Q. Are you certain he is a paper-hanger? A. He hangs paper, but I understand he assists his brother in butchering—he and his brother are paper-hangers and butchers—this was on Thursday—I collect Mr. Waring's rents—my attention was drawn to this ten or twelve days afterwards, when he was at Worship-street—they asked me to make a memorandum of it—I only put down the date—I was first spoken to about it by Pluckrose, the butcher—I cannot say the exact day—it was either Tuesday or Wednesday after he was taken on the Saturday—it was the Tuesday week after he hung the paper—I am sure of that—I know that it was on Thursday I saw the prisoner at Mr. Waring's, because Thursday is the only day in the week that I pay my money in to Mr. Waring—Mr. Waring is not very well—it was not later than a quarter to eight when I last saw the prisoner there.
JOSEPH PLUCKROSE. I am the prisoner's brother—his name is Pluckrose—his mother married Mr. Cole when he was very young—I live at 3, Barnet-grove—on Thursday, 23rd Jan., I worked with him at Mr. Waring's—we left off just before five o'clock—I saw Fleck there—after work, the prisoner went to my place with me and had tea—he remained with me till half-past seven or twenty minutes to eight, when he went to Mr. Waring's to receive some money which was due to him—he came back at ten minutes past eight, in fact, Shoreditch eight o'clock bell was not done going—it leaves off at a quarter past eight—I had made an appointment to meet him at my place, or at Mr. Mitchell's beer-shop, Barnet-row, Birdcage-walk, and I saw him there—he had been absent about three-quarters of an hour as near as I can judge—we remained there till eleven or a quarter past—he was with me the whole of that time—he left just before me, about eleven, and I returned home—a young man left with him, who I have never seen before or since.
Cross-examined. Q. How was it, if you had been working for Mr. Waring, you did not go with your brother for your money? A. He received it for me—I met my father-in-law, Joseph Cole, at Mitchell's door, and we went in together—Mitchell was not at home—I have been to that house for months—the prisoner has used it three or four weeks—Mrs. Mitchell was behind the counter when we went in—John Cole was there, and Mr. Fry and his son—that was five in the tap-room—the prisoner said to Mrs. Mitchell, "It is a fine night," or something of that kind—they were taking a glass of ale and smoking—they were all four sitting round the fire—there were several other people in the room—I and my brother were drinking ale—we were pretty well all drinking together, though we were not in their company—I smoked, and I think my brother did—we two sat together on a long seat, not exactly close to the others—young Cole left first, then the prisoner and the other man, then me and my father-in-law—we left old Mr. Fry there—I did not miss young Fry at all—we had nothing to eat while we were there—I am positive of that—a week or ten days after this, my brother sent to me to say he was locked up for highway robbery on a gentleman, and as I knew where he was, would I be so kind as go to Mr. Waring—Dennis, a bricklayer, brought the message—it did not tell me the time of the robbery—I first learnt that at Worship-street, no Mr. Fry had read the paper to me, and told me the time—I cannot say when I first spoke to Fleck about it.
SOPHIA MITCHELL. I am the wife of Thomas Mitchell, beer-shop keeper, of Barnet-grove, Birdcage-walk. On Thursday, 23rd Jan., from eight o'clock to a quarter past, while Shoreditch bells were going, the prisoner came up to the door and said, "Is my brother here?"—I said, "No"—he went away for a second, and came back with his brother; the last witness—they went into my tap-room together—I remained there till half-past nine, as near as I can tell—I did not look at the time—I was not in the tap-room, but I am sure the prisoner did not go out at the front door while I was there—after half-past nine, when my husband came home, I left the bar, and went into the tap-room—I did not go to the police-court—my husband did—Pluckrose first called my attention to this matter.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not go into the parlour? A. I went into the tap-room where the prisoner and Pluckrose were, and took them a pot of ale—that was while Shoreditch bells were going—I went in at intervals afterwards to serve beer—I will not swear I saw the prisoner there, but he never left the front door—there is a way out from the back —no person went out into the street during my husband's absence—when I took in the ale the prisoner was sitting on the right-hand side as I went in—Mr. Fry and his son were there, and the prisoner's father-in-law, Mr. Cole, and his son—after the prisoner was taken, his brother came to us—that was a week or ten days after this matter—the prisoner did not come there very frequently—he has sometimes come if his father or brother are there, and has come in and sat down—I recollect this night, because my husband went out to purchase grocery—it is not his practice to go out in the evening—I cannot tell whether he was at home on the prior evening, or the evening after—I am not in the habit of serving in the tap-room unless my husband is away.
JOSEPH COLE. I am the father-in-law of the prisoner. On Thursday evening, 23rd Jan., I was at Mr. Mitchell's beer-shop; the prisoner came there about ten minutes to eight o'clock—I think his brother came with him—the bells were going eight—he remained there till eleven, and then left—Joseph Pluckrose, and Mr. Fry and his son were there, and my son, who is here.
Cross-examined. Q. Do the bells go at eight, or after eight? A. Just before eight, and for some time after; they are the bells of the church in Crabtree-row—the prisoner left before me, with a young man—I left with my son-in-law—I was having a drop of beer there—I did not have any supper there—the prisoner was in my company—we were all sitting together in the hind part of the tap-room, near the fire.
JOHN COLE. I am the son of the last witness; he is sixty-eight years old. On Thursday, 23rd Jan., I was with him in Mr. Mitchell's beershop—he came in while I was there—the prisoner is my stepbrother—he came in about ten minutes or a quarter past eight—Shoreditch bells were ringing—his brother came in a very little before him, and they both came into the house together—I was in his company till a quarter to ten, when I left him there—Mr. Fry and his son were there.
Cross-examined. Q. Then you did not leave with your father. A. No, I left before him—I recollect the evening, because I was rather short of money, and wanted to see Mr. Mitchell to borrow 1s.—I have not been told that it was necessary to give some good reason to account for the date—I have borrowed 1s. of him before—my attention was first called to this about a month ago—I was in the tap-room, and Pluckrose came to me—he did not mention the date then; he did a few days afterwards—I only recollect it by borrowing the money—the prisoner did not come there often—we were on the left-hand side of the room—the prisoner was sitting alongside me when I left—Pluckrose was on the opposite side—I am a rope and twine-spinner.
JAMES FRY. I know the prisoner well. On Thursday, 23rd Jan., I was at Mr. Mitchell's at eight o'clock in the evening—the prisoner and his brother came in from eight to a quarter-past—Shoreditch bells were going—I remained there till half-past eleven—he left before me with a man I do not know—my son was there—he left about a quarter to nine—he is not here.
Cross-examined. Q. Who left first of your party? A. My son; if anybody has said that Cole and his son left first, that is not true—I remember the day, because a horse had bitten my arm—I did not work—it had only been bad that day—I saw this matter in the paper on the Tuesday week after he was taken, and was quite surprised.
THOMAS MITCHELL. I keep a beer-shop, in Barnet-grove. On 23rd Jan. I had been out for some grocery, and returned about half-past nine o'clock—in about five minutes I went into the tap-room, and saw the prisoner there—I went in at intervals, and saw him there from half-past nine till eleven.
Cross-examined. Q. What distance is your house from Haggerstone-fields? A. Ten minutes or a quarter of an hours' walk—I know it was half-past nine, from what the grocer told me; he shuts up at ten—his shop is in the Bethnal Green-road, a quarter of a mile from my house—I hate a watch; I looked at it—I am not in the habit of going out of an evening.
VERDICT: NOT GUILTY
I have to admit that I was surprised by the verdict. He did have a strong alibi, however. You, of course, will make up your own minds.
