Robin Hood Lane (Poplar)
|Adm. div.||Middlesex, now Greater London|
|Vicinity||Between Ashton Street and Poplar High Street; W of N entrance to Blackwall Tunnel|
|Interest||Robin Hood name|
By Henrik Thiil Nielsen, 2017-12-28. Revised by Henrik Thiil Nielsen, 2018-07-16.
Robin Hood Lane in Poplar is first recorded on Joel Gascoyne's 1703 map of Stepney (see Maps section below). Since 1966 it has been home to a controversial 'brutalist' concrete housing project named Robin Hood Gardens, which is now being torn down.Robin Hood Lane figures not infrequently in reports of cases at the Old Bailey (see Records below). It is included in the list of London street and place-names in the Compleat Compting-House Companion (1763) Lockie in his Topography of London (1810) lists it as "Robinhood-Lane, Poplar,—at the E. end of Polar-High-st. or road, on the L. extending to the East-India dock-gate" (see Gazetteers below).
[6 Dec. 1739:]
After her [Edward Joines's first wife] Death I went to work at Bromley, and being likely to continue in Business there, I unfortunately went to the lower End of Poplar, to see for a Lodging nearer my Business, and happened to fix in the House of the Deceased, who was a Widow and had one Daughter. I had not liv'd above a Week in the House, before we grew so well acquainted, that we agreed not to make two Beds, and I was to pay half Charges. In this Manner we liv'd about a Year, and then she began to take too much upon her, and threatened to turn me out of the House. To prevent this, and to appease her, I proposed to marry her, thinking she then could not turn me out of Doors. She consented, and we were married about Twelvemonths ago at the Fleet; but after this she grew more and more uneasy, and whenever People ask'd her for Money she ow'd them, She bid them go to her Husband. I never had any great Inclination to marry her, but I thought the House would then be mine, and she would be more quiet and easy; and after I had once mention'd it, she worried me without Intermission till the Thing was done. Her Daughter was then out at Service; but since the Death of her Mother she has liv'd in the House, and is now in Possession of all our Goods in Robin-Hood Lane, at the lower End of Poplar.
3 Jun. 1772:]
Q. Do you know the nature of an oath? what will become of you if you take a false oath, is it a good or a wicked thing.
Ingram. A wicked thing. I was going along in Bow lane, near Bromley, last Saturday about five o'clock; I was walking on one side of the way, and the prisoner on the other side. He said, my dear, I have not seen you a long time; I thought I knew him at first, afterwards I found I did not; then he said again it is a long time since I saw you; I said, sir, I do not come home but once a week, I live at my master's.
Q. Where is your home?
Ingram. My parents live in Robinhood lane. He asked me to come over the hedge into the field, I did not go over; he said he would give me six-pence; I said I did not want any of his money, I wanted to go home to my grand-mother; then he said he would give me a shilling; I said I did not want his shilling, I must go home to my grandmother; he got over the hedge and stooped down, he saw me run away, and ran after me.
11 Apr. 1810:]
Prisoner's Defence. On Friday the 6th of April, at the corner of Robinhood-lane, I was accosted by a well-dressed man, he asked me whether I would drive the said pigs to Smithfield-market, he would give me five shillings; on our way he was desirous of knowing my residence, and when he got to Shoreditch church he desired me to go off, and if he did not see me till I got to Smithfield, to go into the Brown Bear-yard; I might ask nine pounds, but not to take less than eight pound eight shillings for the pigs; I did not see my employer at nine o'clock, I sold them for eight pounds seven shillings and six-pence; I, wishing to get home, would rather lose sixpence than stay any longer. As my employer did not come I supposed he would call on me for the money. In the evening I was taken in custody. I am sorry I did not tell the truth to the magistrate. I resign myself to your lordship.
[13 Sep. 1815:]
JOSEPH WILSON. I remember seeing Yan Van Dorlo on the Saturday night, a little after nine o'clock, with his face very much smeared with blood, and the frill of his shirt was bloody. He told me he had been knocked down, and robbed. I went immediately, and fetched William Barnes, an officer. After searching in a good many places, at last we found the prisoner sitting up in his lodgings in Robin Hood Lane, with two or three others in the house. Yan Van Dorlo charged him with robbing him; but he made no answer, for I don't think he heard the charge. I told him he must come along with me; I called the watchman, who took him, and I followed after him. Somebody told me he had the watch in his hand; I immediately told the watchman to stop, and when I came up, I heard something like a watch fall; I could not find the watch, and told the watchman to go on with him; but he hesitated, and under his feet we found the watch. He was taken to the watchhouse. Here is the watch.
[20 Feb. 1822:]
JAMES SHANNON. I lodged in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar. The prisoner slept in the same bed. In January I went out at seven o'clock, leaving him in bed. I returned in about an hour, and missed him and my coat. About three weeks after, a man brought him to the house – he said he sold all but the coat, and that he pawned, and shewed us where.
[22 May 1822:]
MARY CASH. I am the daughter of Isaac Cash, who keeps the Union, public-house, Union-street, Shoreditch. On the 3d of May, I was looking at the chimney sweeps in Crabtree-row; the prisoner came behind me, and snatched the necklace from my neck. I had said to Purvis who was with me, let us go away for they want to rob us, and then he snatched it, and ran down Robin Hood-lane – he was brought back in about ten minutes. I am sure of him.
[8 dec. 1825:]
FRANCIS MURPHY. I am a labourer. Last Monday morning, I went to Blackwall to get work, and the morning being wet I was sent home to get my breakfast – as I was going up Robinhood-lane, I met the two prisoners, and they called me and said, if I would sell the rope for them, they would pay me for it, or give me some beer. I took this rope to Mr. Hart's, and asked him to buy it - he asked what was the price of it - I said I did not know - he said he would give me 7s. a cwt. - it was put into the scale and weighed 1 cwt. 1 quarter and 7lbs. - while I was there the prosecutor came in, collared me, and asked where I got it. I said of these two young men - he took me to the constable's - and as we were going along I met Monnagan and said that was one of the young men I had it from.
[4 Dec. 1828:]
JAMES BEECHEY. I am an officer. I stopped the prisoner near Robin Hood-lane, Poplar, on the 28th of November, with these seven sheets, which he said he found in a field between the East and West India Dock-road; he at first told me they were rags.(Property produced and sworn to.)
[27 May 1830:]
RICHARD LEE was indicted for stealing, on the 27th of May, 1 sovereign, 9 shillings, and 4 sixpences, the monies of James Barker.
JAMES BARKER. I live in Robinhood-lane, Poplar. On the 23rd of April I put 31s. into a jug, in a cupboard in a room which we do not make use of, when I got up in the morning, and missed it the next day. I am a bricklayer. The prisoner lodged with me – my wife said, "I think Lee has the money, he has spent a great deal;" I went to a public-house, and brought him home – he denied it, but said, "If you think I have robbed you, charge an officer with me."
[17 May 1832:]
ELLEN REED was indicted for stealing, on the 20th of April, 1 gown, value 1s. 6d.; 6 spoons, value 20s., and 1 pair of trousers, value 2s., the goods of Robert Cussen.
ROBERT CUSSEN. I keep a chandler's shop in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar. The prisoner lodged at my house by the name of Mrs. Fisher, with a person who either was or passed as her husband – she left us on the 20th of March, and left some goods there; on the 10th of April she came again, and asked to be allowed to go to the room which she had occupied, and I went with her – it was then about half-past five o'clock; I had six silver tea-spoons laying on a table in that room – I saw them distinctly; I left her in the room about ten minutes; she then came down and went out; in about an hour I went to the room again, and missed the spoons – there was nobody in the house but me; my wife afterwards told me her gown was gone, and on the same day I missed a pair of trousers.
[29 Feb. 1836:]
MARY ANN SMITH. I am servant to Mr. Hiscock, of Robin Hood-lane Polpar, a green-grocer—on Saturday evening the 16th of January, at about a quarter past ten o'clock Brown came for a penny worth of onions—I served her—she gave me a shilling—I took it to my mistress in the back parlour—she gave me 11d. I gave it to the prisoner—I saw nothing more of her—on the same evening Sullivan came for a pennyworth of turnips—he offered me a shilling—I took it to my mistress, she gave me the change and I gave it to Sullivan,—it was about a quarter past ten—I saw nothing more of Brown and Sullivan till I saw them at the station-house.
Cross-examined. Q. At what hour did you see them at the station-house? A. I think about half-past eleven o'clock the same evening.
LOUISA HISCOCK. I keep a green-grocer's shop in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar. On the night of the 16th of January Smith my little—girl, brought me two shilling at two several times—I put them into my pocket, where I had anothe r shilling which was a new one with a lion on it, and two half crows—the two shilling I received from smith were very dirty—I did not notice them at the time but I was able to distinguish then from the new one which I had received from my brother—it was about half-past ten o'clock—I heard of the prisoners being in custody a little before eleven o'clock or a few minutes after—the door was never opened from the time I received the two shilling till she policeman came—my husband marked them—I am sure they are the same Smith brought me.
BROWN. I was never in the shop, nor in house till I was taken to the station-house. MARY ANN SMITH. I am certain she is the woman—I saw her in custody an hour afterwards.
WILLIAM GRIFFIN (police-sergeant 11 K.) I was at the station-house when the prisoner were brought in—I received 2s. from Mrs. Hiscock—the produced two half-crowns, three shilling and one sixpence from her pocket—I took two of the shilling and bent them—the other was a new one with a lion on it—I took Smith to the station house—she saw the prisoner and recognised Brown as being the person who passed one shilting, and Sullivan as passing the other; but he and Young have changed their names—Sullivan gave the name of Young at the station-house, and was examined as Young before the Magistrate.
HENRY MUMFORD. (police-constable H 92.) I was on duty in High-street, Poplar on Saturday evening the 16th of January—I was watching the prisoner—Sullivan and Road passed me in High-street lane—Poplar, coming from Mr. Scott's way and going towards Robin Hood-lane—upon reaching Mr. Scott's I discovered that a bad shilling had been passed there—I next saw all the four prisoner together at the end of Robin Hood-lane, conversing together about one hundred yards from where I first saw the two—I after went to Well-street and saw Sullivan on one side of the street, and Roach on the other—Well-street is near Mr. Hiscock's—I got another constable and followed the prisoners up the East India-road—I took the four into custody, with other officers—we found these onions, turnips tobacco, and one pennyworth of bread on Roach—I saw him searched and five goods sixpences, and three shilling and 5d. in copper money were found on him—Brown was searched by a female—a good shilling, one halfpenny, and a key, were found on her—she said she knew nothing of the other prisoners—she told me so from the first—I am certain I saw her talking with the others.
[28 Nov. 1836:]
(George Palliser, Finsbury-place; Mr. Myers, Peter's-alley Cornhill; George T. Davis, Colt-street, Limehouse; H. P. Edghill, book-keeper at Nelson's coach office; S. Douglas, Robin-hood-lane, Poplar; and Thomas Cooling, coach proprietor, Chester-street, Kennington; deposed to Alexander's good character: and Arthur Macnamara and Henry Milner of Sidney-street, Mile-end, to that of Johnson.
[3 Apr. 1837:]
THOMAS COBURN. I am in the employ of the East India Dock Company. On the Sunday morning early, in consequence of a noise, I went to where I found the watchman and the prisoner truggling—I left them, while I ran for Mr. Guy—I then went to assist in taking the prisoner to the top of Robin Hood-lane—he tried to get away, and we called the policeman—he said, "I will not go, you shall carry me," and we were obliged to carry him.
WILLIAM PANTLING (police-constable K 264.) On Sunday, the 12th of March, I was on duty in the East India-road—I saw three men scuffling, at the top of Robin Hood-lane—I inquired what was amiss—it was said the prisoner had stolen some load—I took him by the collar, and told him to come to the station-house—he refused to come—we were obliged to carry him—a buck-horn was found upon him with some marks on it, as if the lead had been wrenched up by it—the lead was brought by the watchman—I went to the mast-house, and a great quantity of lead had been taken off the roof.
[4 Feb. 1839:]
JOHN HABGOOD (police-constable K 109.) I was in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar, on the 2nd of January, at half-past seven o'clock in the evening. I observed the two prisoners enter a marine store-dealer's with something very heavy on their backs—I went in, and Trew had just put down a bundle on the counter—I asked him what he had got—he said he did not know—Taylor then said that he had employed him to carry some iron belonging to his master, and was to give him 6d. for his trouble—I sent for assistance, and took them.
[8 Apr. 1839:]
SARAH ELIZABETH SMITH. I live in Robin Hood-lane, This frock was brought to my shop by Thomas Watts, between eight and nine o'clock at night—he said, "Mrs. Smith, will you buy this frock?"—I said, "Where did you get it?"—he said, "My mother got it from where she was at work, and sent me to sell it"—I said, "You rascal, you stole it; if you don't fetch your mother I will give you in charge"—he went away, and in a quarter of an hour his mother (the female prisoner) came, and said it was all right—that she had had it given her where she was at work, and if I would let her have a few halfpence on it she would thank me—I did so, and on the Monday a man and his wife came to buy some things, and the woman said the frock belonged to a neighbour of hers.
[23 Aug. 1841:]
208. THOMAS PEARCE was indicted for unlawfully, maliciously, and feloniously assaulting Henry Deal, on the 4th of August, and stabbing and wounding him in and upon the left side of his body, with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.
HENRY DEAL. I am a shoemaker, and live at Limehouse. On Wednesday afternoon, the 4th of August, between three and four o'clock, I went to the Robin Hood and Little John beer-shop, the prisoner was there when I went in—I remained there till between ten and eleven o'clock at night—between seven and eight we were in the parlour, the prisoner, my father-in-law, one Dixon, and Jewell and myself—the prisoner had some words with Thomas Dixon, and said he would punch his b—head in pieces —I replied, "No you won't, because he is not able to stand before you;" as Dixon was a cripple—I said if he hit him, I would hit him again, as he was not able to stand against him—he said he did not care for any man in Poplar who was 9 stone 3lb. weight—after this a wrangle took place between him and me, but it was dropped for some little time, and we afterwards went from the parlour into the tap-room—we still kept wrangling for some time afterwards, and all in an instant he jumped up, and swore d—his eyes if he would not have revenge on me—he got up, and made an attempt to hit me with his hand—I did not notice whether it was shut or open, but I kept it off with my left hand—I then struck him with my right hand, and hit him on the nose, which bled—I afterwards hit at him with my right hand, and I received a pain in my side—the prisoner struck at my side before I felt the pain—at the time I thought it was with his fist—I felt a little pain in my side—after that my father-in-law got up and said, "Don't strike him any more"—I said I would not—we were still quarrelling—I afterwards went out backwards to ease myself, and felt myself very sick—I then returned into the tap-room—he began still rather to wrangle—I drank out of the pot with my father-in-law—he and I went out the front way, and we had a few words out in the street—I went directly to my father-in-law's house, and when we came home I told him I felt rather queer in my side—I remained in an arm-chair, resting, until the morning (I did not live with him) between four and five o'clock I felt myself a great deal worse—I had no waistcoat on, and I looked down, and saw the blood on my shirt—I asked my father-in-law to look, and there was a wound in my side—I looked at it myself, and saw a hole in my side, and a hole in my shirt, and in the waistband of my trowsers—my father-in-law dressed, and went for a policeman—the parish doctor came down and looked at me—they took me to the hospital directly—I remained there until now—no body else had struck me a blow in the course of the day—when the prisoner struck me I felt the pain in the same part as the wound is—I had not got the wound when I went into the Robin Hood and Little John—I had not seen any thing in the prisoner's hand—I had seen him once or twice before.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. How many of you were there in the public-house? A. Five of us—my father-in-law was there—the other persons were not my friends—I had been drinking with Dixon before—Jewell was the fourth person, but I believe he was out the greatest part of the time—I found the prisoner in the house when I went in—he appeared then to have been drinking a great deal, he was not very sober then—he drank beer several times with my father-in-law—Dixon did not use gross language to him in my presence—at first, I had no idea I was wounded, and did not inform the prisoner of it—a bread-and-cheese knife has been found, which is supposed to have inflicted the wound—I do not know if he used it for bread and cheese—(produced)—this is the knife that was produced afterwards—I did not notice any eating going on during the time—there might have been, but I did not see any.
JURY. Q. What time did you leave the public-house? A. I suppose it was between ten and eleven o'clock—I did not discover the wound until after four o'clock the next morning—I was not very sober at night—I was in the morning when I looked at it.
ROBERT AYLIFFE. I am a City policeman. I saw the last witness on the morning of the 5th of August, and saw his wound—his shirt was all over blood with the cutting, and also the waistband of his drawers—I afterwards went to Robin Hood-lane, and there found the prisoner in a house—I took him into custody, and told him he was charged on suspicion of stabbing a man—I did not say what man—he said it was a bad job, he could not help it—I took him to the station, and took the prosecutor to the hospital.
[28 Nov. 1842:]
WOLFE HYAMS was indicted for stealing, on the 26th of Nov., 1 coat, value 125., the goods of Benjamin Clark. BENJAMIN CLARK. I live in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar. On the 26th of Nov. about half-past eight o'clock at night, I left my coat in my cart in Church-street, Spitalfields—in about ten minutes it was missing—this now produced is it.
[27 Feb. 1843:]
JOHN DAVIS (police-constable K 94.) I was on duty at half-past five o'clock this evening—I saw the prisoner coming up Robin Hood-lane—he looked hard at me, and passed me—I heard some one opposite give a sort of whistle—I turned round, and saw the prisoner turn from the door of a marine store shop, to which he had got—I followed, and asked what he had got; he said, nothing—I took him into the marine store shop, and was about to search him—he pulled this out of his right-hand trowsers pocket, and said, this is all I have got—he said he found it—I asked where he worked; he said at Mr. Pitching's—I went, and found it was not true—I afterwards found that he worked for the prosecutors.
[23 Nov. 1846:]
JEREMIAH HOLLAND. I live in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar. I was at the Harrow, standing by Maguire, and saw the prisoner rush into the tap-room, and stab Maguire in the arm—he ran away directly—I saw no quarrel—I just saw the blade of the knife—it might be four or five inches long.
[10 May 1847:]
ROBERT THOMPSON. I am a stoker, and live at No. 2, White Hart-place, Robin Hood-lane. I saw the prisoner in Dellar's custody—I saw him go to a watering-place, and put a small case over the gate—I picked it up and gave it to the policeman—this is it—(produced.) 
[18 Sep. 1848:]
GEORGE. RICHMAN. I am a son of Isaac Richman, of Robin Hood-lane. The prisoner was sitting in the shop, waiting for his wife—she came, went round the counter, and sat down by his side—he spoke to her, and kissed her; then put his left arm round her neck, pulled her head back with his face on hers, and drew something across her throat—she hallooed out, "He has got a knife!"—I saw blood come from her throat—she ran away—he had been in the shop five or ten minutes before it happened—they were talking as if they were friends.
[26 Feb. 1849:]
JOHN HABOOD. I am a dealer in marine-stores; I live in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar. On Wednesday, 31st Jan., I was stopped at the gate of the Docks—I had been on board the Betsy—I saw the prisoner, and no one else—I asked him if he was the person that bad some rope to sell—he said he was—I went to the forecastle with him, and he showed me this lot of rope–he wanted 10s. for it—I gave him 5s. 6d.—I asked him for the Captain's pass to take it out, and he gave me this pass—I was stopped—I went back to the prisoner and said I was stopped at the gate—he went and told the gate-keeper it was all right—he would not allow it to pass—this is the rope—a shipkeeper from another ship had come to me, by the prisoner's orders, and told me there was some rope to sell.
[26 Feb. 1849:]
HENRY WOOD (police-sergeant, K 23). On 10th Feb., at half-past ten at night, I saw Ashton at the door of a marine-store shop in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar, with a piece of lead in his hand; Collins was with him—he ran away—Ashton tried to run, but I caught him—Collins cried out namnus, which I believe means to run—I took Ashton and this lead—I found lead had been cut from a gutter of the Eastern Counties Railway—I measured the lead that I found with Ashton, and it fitted exactly—Ashton said he knew nothing about it—he would not give any address—I had seen them with the lead near where it was missed from, and followed them.
29 Oct. 1849:]
WILLIAM DAVY. I live in Robin Hood-lane. On Monday, 1st Oct, I was in Commercial-street, Whitechapel, about a quarter before nine o'clock in the evening—the prosecutor pointed out the prisoners to me, as the persons he had seen before—I ran after Morriss, and succeeded in taking him—the other ran away—Morriss said, "Who wants me?"—I said, "A friend of mine"—I took him back to Mr. George, and he looked at him, and said that he and the other were two of the five that knocked him down—Morriss said" That has nothing to do with me now."
[25 Nov. 1850:]
ROBERT BACKHOUSE (policeman, K 151). On the night of 30th Nov. I was attracted to a house in Robin-Hood-lane, Poplar, by cries of "Murder!" and "Police!"—I and serjeant Timpson went to the house—I saw a woman's head out of the window—she said, "For God's sake, policeman, don't go away; there will be murder done"—I said, "What is the matter?"—she said, "That man of mine," or words to that effect—directly the prisoner opened the door and rushed out with this short poker in his hand, and struck me three or four blows on my head, cheek, and temple—he said, "You are the b——r that had me before"(I had had him about two years and a half ago)—I became insensible—I did not draw my staff, or speak to him at all.
Cross-examined by MR. PLATT. Q. What sort of a neighbourhood is this? A. Very low—there are a good many Irish there and a good many rows—we did not go with our staves out—there was scarcely a soul in the lane—the woman is the prisoner's wife—she did not say, "Go away; it is only a row"—she was in her night-dress; her upper part was naked— we heard the cries three or four times—I had a staff—the sergeant had his cutlass and truncheon—on my oath neither cutlass nor staves were drawn previous to my being struck; I cannot say what was done afterwards—there was no other policeman with us—I did not hear the prisoner inside, before the door was opened, saying it was only a drunken frolic—I heard a mingling of voices—it is a sort of lodging-house—I never demanded the door to be opened—I had only asked the woman what was the matter, and then the prisoner burst open the door—I think he must have heard what was said—it was about a quarter before twelve o'clock.
JOHN TIMPSON (police-sergeant, K 25). On the night of 13th Nov. I went with Backhouse to 28, Robin-Hood-lane—we heard a woman calling, "For God's sake do not go away, there will be murder"—the prisoner and his brother came to the door—the prisoner said, "You b——r, you had me before"—the brother held my arms while the prisoner struck Back-house—I saw the prisoner take the iron out of his pocket and strike him—I got to him as soon as I could, and found him on the pavement bleeding very fast—I saw only one blow given, as I was grappled by the brother—nothing had been said to the prisoner before the blows were given.
[15 Sep. 1851:]
GEORGE GIBSON. I am an engineer; I live at Woollaston, near Newcastle, On 22nd Aug. I was lodging at the Captain of a Man-of-War, in High-street, Poplar—I had in my possession ten 10l.-notes and fifty-three sovereigns—while I was there I saw the prisoner generally every evening in the public coffee-room, where I used to take my meals—he used to come in to smoke a cheroot and read the paper—I got into conversation with him—on 1st Sept. I told him I wanted to find a Mr. Miller, who lived in St. John's-wood—he directed me, and told me he was going to the Yorkshire Stingo, and to meet him there at 2 o'clock—I went, and found Mr. Miller's, but he was not at home—I went to the Yorkshire Stingo, and met the prisoner soon after 2 o'clock—we had something there, and walked arm-in-arm to Oxford-street—when we got there, I said, "Now I know my way home"—the prisoner said, "I don't feel very well after taking that ale at the Yorkshire Stingo; will you go and have something to drink?"—we went to a house, and had something, and came out again—he then said, "You wait here about five minutes; I have a little business to settle over the way; if I am not back in five minutes, you go away"—he left me to go across the road, and he could not have more than crossed the road when a second man came up and accosted me by name—I had seen that second man that morning at the public-house where I was lodging—he was standing at the bar—when he came to me he asked me if I would go and take something to drink—I told him I was waiting for a friend who was gone across the road, and I should not like to lose him—he said, "Come in here, and we can see when he comes across," and he pointed to the same public-house that I had been in with the prisoner—we went in, and went to a front window in the billiard-room, in order that I might see my friend—I stood there from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour, and did not see him—the second man then said, "Mr. Gibson, you had better sit down; it appears your friend is not coming back"—I sat down, and just as I was sitting down, in came a third man, whom I had not seen before—he said he hoped he did not intrude into our company—I told him, no, we had no private conversation; the room was as free to him as it was to us, and he had a right to sit in it if be thought proper—he sat down, and called for a glass of brandy and water, cold—in about five minutes the second man said to me, "Mr. Gibson, were you ever in America?"—I told him, no, I never was—the third man then said, "I have just arrived from there"—the second man said, "I have an idea of going there myself, and I should like to know what would be the best business for a person to embark in"—the third man said he did not understand anything about trade or business, for he had been living servant with a batchelor gentleman, who was dead; he had lived eleven yean with him; and as he had spent the best part of his time with him, he had left him 22,000l., and in his will he had left directions that he was to distribute 400l. to the poor in different parishes in England, not naming what parishes—he asked me what parish I belonged to—I said, "To Woolaston"—he asked if there were many poor there—I said, "Yes"—he then asked the second man what parish he belonged to—he said, "To Bath"—he asked if there were many poor there—he said, "Yet, a great many"—he said, well, as we appeared to be respectable persons, he would give each of us 20l. for the poor of those parishes, on condition that we could prove that we were respectable persons, and persons not likely to keep this money ourselves, and he said he would give us a new hat a piece for distributing the money—he said he had brought his lawyer over from America with him, and he had left his lawyer that day, not long since—he said he had just come from the Bank, and he pulled out a lot of what I took to be 5l.-notes, and he pulled out a paper, about three or four inches long, with a double row of sovereigns in it, but those he held in his hand; I could only see the end of them—he said the advice his lawyer gave him was that he should be particular who he gave this money to; that he had to distribute, and not to give it to the officers of the parish, as it sometimes was the case that they did not give it to the poor, but put it into their own pockets, and the poor did not get it; but that he should give it to respectable persons, who would give a few shillings to one, and a few shillings to another—the second man then said, "I can show you as much as 50l., to show you that I am a person of sufficient respectability to receive this money;" and he said, "I dare say Mr. Gibson, my friend, can show you as much"—I said, "Yes, I can show you 150l. for that matter, to convince you that I am a person of sufficient respectability"—we all three left the house, and took an omnibus, and came to the Bull's Head, in Leadenhall-street, and we went in, and it was arranged that we should meet there and show our money—I then went to the public-house where I was lodging, to get my money—the second man went with me—he left me at the corner of Robin Hood-lane, and we were to return to the Bull's Head, in Leadenhall-street—I went to the public-house where I lodged, to get my money—I got there about 20 minutes or half-past six—I might be twenty minutes op-stairs gatting the money—I then returned to the Bull's Head, in Leadenhall-street, with the second man—we had gone to Black wall together, and went back together—we went into the Bull's Head, and the third man followed us into the room where we had been sitting previously—when we got in, the second man showed him a lot of notes, and I showed him ten 10l.-notes and fiftythree sovereigns—the third man said he was perfectly satisfied that we had the money—I had counted my money on the table, and put it back again into my purse—the third man then got up to leave the room for some purpose—I supposed he was going to the back-door—as he was leaving, the second man said, "You will not leave us now?"—he said, "No," and he took out those sovereigns that he had in his pocket, and put them into the second man's hat—he came in again in a few minutes, and took the money again—the second man then said to me, "Now we will go and get each a 20s.-stamp to receive this money"—the third man then went to the window, and lifted up the little red curtain—that window looks into the street—he held the curtain up for a moment, and did not stop to look any time—he then came and sat down, and the second man and I got up to go and get the two stamps—the third man said, "But you will not leave me, you will not run away now?"—I said, "No, certainly not"—the second man said, "Of course, Mr. Gibson, you will leave a deposit with him, the same as he has done with us"—I said, "Certainly," and I put my hand into my pocket, and took out my purse, containing the 153l., and put it into his hat, as a guarantee for my returning, leaving the hat on the table—I and the second man then left the room, to get the two 20l.-stamps; and as we got to the door, I happened to meet the prisoner—I stopped, and said, "Halloo, Mr. Smith, what are you doing here?"—he laid hold of me by my left arm—I took it to be in a friendly manner—then the second man, who was a little in front, returned, and held me by my right-arm, and the prisoner by my left—I just turned myself, and I saw the person with the money, the third man, coming walking along the passage—I tried to extricate myself from the other two, but I could not—I said, "Let me go—let me go!"—but they still held me, and I could not get away—I was so petrified and astonished that I had not power to call anybody, or make any alarm—I tried to extricate myself from them—they still held me fast, and by-and-bye they gave me a pull, and pulled me bang off the door-step into the middle of the footpath, and the third man passed me, and crossed the street—I did not see that he had anything with him—he had his hat on, and he ran across the street—I did not know that there was a passage opposite the public-house; I thought he would run up the street—I was then more resolute than I had been, and broke from those men—I ran across the street in a slanting direction, to get before him; but I could not find him—then the thought struck me that I had heard of such passages in London; I came back and found the passage—I went through it, but I could not find him—I came into the other street which, I suppose, is Fenchurch-street—I stood about, wondering which way the man was gone; and the prisoner came to me and said, "What is the matter?"—I said, "I have had a heavy loss"—he said, "What?"—I said, "Ten 10l.-notes, and some sovereigns"—I do not know whether I told him how many sovereigns, but I said I knew the numbers of the notes—he said, "Don't make a noise, come along with me; and he took me to a house and gave me a small glass of brandy—we came out, and he said, "Don't make any noise, but go directly home, and go to bed; and to-morrow morning go to the Bank and tell the numbers"—I took his advice, and went home to my lodging—I went up-stairs and laid down a little while on the bed—I then got up, and went into the street, and told a policeman, and asked him what I had better do; that was about 9 o'clock in the evening—I have not seen the two men since, nor the money, nor any part of it.
[3 Jan. 1853:]
GEORGE CRASKE. I am one of the foremen at the Eastern Counties Railway; on 6th Dec., I asked Pike if he had taken any sweepings from the "D" floor, he said, "No"—I then asked if he had taken from "M" or "N," which are the next to "D," and the floor from which these sacks were missed—he said, "No," he had not been in there since last Friday—I did not give him any authority on Friday to take any sack out—I then asked if he was certain he had not put a sack of grain on a hand cart—he said, "Certainly not"—I told him to be sure about it—he said he had no business to put anything on a truck without my sanction, and he had not done it—this conversation was between 10 and 11 o'clock, and when he went to his dinner I watched him to Robin Hood-lane, which is a quarter of a mile, or more, from the Company's premises; I saw him go into a yard there where the prisoner Samuel's premises are—I left him there—I cannot say how long he remained there, he came back to his work at the usual time—he was taken into custody on the same day, a short time afterwards.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you see him go to Samuels'? A. On the Tuesday, the robbery was on the Friday; no one gives orders for the removal of goods, but me or Dyson—I cannot swear what this sack contained.
Pike. Q. Have you not known that we take sacks on our shoulders when it is wet? A. I have known it, but you never asked me for a sack.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Supposing they ever put a sack over their shoulders, would it be their duty to bring it back again? A. Yes; a full sack would not be likely to keep the rain off their shoulders.
WILLIAM GAVIN. I am an inspector on the Eastern Counties Railway. On 8th Dec., after the examination at the police court, I went with Puddiford to a room I was told was occupied by Pike's wife—I have not heard Pike say where he lived—I had the address from the charge sheet.
GEORGE CRASKE re-examined. I know where Pike lived, but I forget the name of the street—it is No. 81, not far from Gravel-lane—I have only lived six months in London—the street is not far from the Tower, and runs parallel with the dead wall of the docks, which is on one side—Gravel-lane runs into the street, it was the address he had given at the police court—I heard him give it, and saw it taken down.
WILLIAM GAVIN continued. The house I went to was No. 81, Pennington-street, which has houses only on one side, and a dead wall on the other—Gravel-lane runs into Pennington-street at one end, and Ratcliffe Highway at the other—when I opened the door I was followed by Puddiford, and I called his attention to the state of the floor which was covered over with sacks lald edge to edge, and in some places secured to the floor, to form a carpet—I found this sack among them (produced), it is marked, "T. and W. E. Coote, St. Ives"—I went to the top of the house, and found this new plain sack (produced) laid down by the side of the bed—the room was occupied by a lone woman—in the back yard I found a quantity of sacking cut up, and in the back kitchen I found a large box containing two or three bushels of oats.
JOSEPH PUDDIFORD (policeman, K 276). I went with Gavin to Pennington-street, in a little back room I found this sack (produced) doubled up, it is marked, "Eastern Counties Railway Company." On 7th Dec., about 7 or half past 7 o'clock in the evening, I apprehended Samuels at a beer shop in Robin Hood-lane—I told him, I took him for receiving a sack containing grain from the Eastern Counties Railway warehouses—he said, "I do not know where they are"—I said, I meant the old pepper warehouses that used to belong to the East India Dock Company—he said, "I do not know where they are"—I said he must go to the station, he said, "I am your humble servant"—he is a corn dealer—I searched his premises, and found oats, beans, and I think a few peas—I received a description of a truck from Mr. Craske; I searched for it, but it was gone then.
[9 May 1853:]
EMIMA ANN WINCH. My father is a greengrocer, and lives in Robin Hood-lane, Poplar. On Wednesday evening, 6th April, the prisoner came between 8 and 9 o'clock for 2 lbs. of potatoes; she gave me a half crown; I tried it, and sounded it in a money-detector; it was bad; I showed it to my mother and to the policeman—it was not out of my sight—I put it into the hand of James Bousfield, and left him with the prisoner while I went for the policeman—I got the half-crown back from Bousfield—I had marked it before I gave it him—I know it was the same I gave him.
JAMES BOUSFIELD. On 6th April I got a bad half-crown from the last witness—I kept it till she returned, and gave it her again.
CHARLES HUNNISSETT (policeman, K 315). I took the prisoner on 6th April, in Robin Hood-lane—I produce a piece of a shilling given me by Mr. Watkinson, and a half-crown which I received from Jemima Wingh—I asked the prisoner where she got the half-crown; she said she took that and a sixpence for a pledge, at the corner of White-street, Commercial-road—I have made every inquiry, and there is no such place—she said she lived in White-street.
[3 Jul. 1854:]
HOMER MORRIS. I am a seaman, and live in Grundy Ann-street, Poplar. On 19th Dec. I was coming down Ratcliff-highway, in company with a ship-mate named Johnston—we got into conversation with the prisoner—he said he was the owner of a ship—we all went to a public house in Wapping—the prisoner called for a pint of ale, and paid for it—there were three other persons in the room when we went in—shortly after we went in two of them went out, leaving the prisoner and another man there—another man came in after awhile, and he got in conversation about a dog that he had—there were then five of us in company—the last man came in soon after we got there—he said he had come up from the country to receive some money; that he went to an hotel, and had left a favourite dog of his there; that the dog was stolen, and that they had left a little lock and a string—he showed us the lock, and said there was no man in London who could open it—he said he gave a guinea for it—the prisoner was then in our company, sitting alongside of me—the man showed us the lock, and handed it to the prisoner, and then went out of the room—the prisoner then said that we would bet him a glass of brandy and water round that we would open it, and the prisoner and I opened it together—he said to me, "Take hold of it, and see if you can't open it," and between us we opened it—I opened it three or four times after that, and then the prisoner said, "We will bet him a glass of brandy and water round, if it is agreeable to the company"—the man that the lock belonged to then came in, and said, "I will bet you any amount of money that no man in the room will open the lock"—the prisoner took out a sovereign, and said, "There is a sovereign, I will stake this"—he asked me if I would bet anything—I said, "I have only half a sovereign about me, but I will bet that that I will open it"—I took out the half sovereign, and gave it to the prisoner—he handed it, with the sovereign that he had, to the man that the lock belonged to—that was after I attempted to open the lock—I attempted to open it and could not—it was to be opened while the man it belonged to was to count ten—he counted ten, and I could not open it, and the prisoner handed the money to him, and the prisoner then said to me, "Have you any more money? will you bet any more?"—I said, "I have no more money about me"—he said, "Can you get any more?"—I said, "I have a little more money at home, but I am living down at Poplar New Town, which is away from here"—he said that he would go and get some money from a friend of his, it was all in his way—we all five went out together—we went to Blackwall, and I went home and got a 20l. note—I got it cashed at Mr. Luff's, and afterwards joined the prisoner and the others in the East India-road—we went to a public house in Robin Hood lane—the man to whom the lock belonged then said, "Now we will commence"—one of the party that was to open the lock took out a note—there was a bet made—the man that was to open the lock said, "Give me the money, and I will keep it"—I betted 15l. with the man that the lock belonged to—I handed my money in, but the others did not put their money down—the prisoner betted—I do not know how much, he did not produce any money then—I handed my 15l. to the man that was to open the lock, and he gave it to the prisoner, who was to hold the stakes—the man who was to open it said, "Bet any amount of money that you think fit, I will forfeit my head but I will open the lock"—that was the stranger that I had found sitting there when I first went into the public house—I at first offered to bet 10l., but the man that was to open the lock said, "Now bet any amount of money that you have got"—I said, "Well, I will bet 5l. more, that is all I will bet"—he tried to persuade me to bet more, but I would not—he was to open it while the man it belonged to counted ten—he commenced trying to open it, but could not, and when about five had been counted he handed it to me, and said, "Try if you can open it"—I could not—the man that tried to open it then said to me, "We will see you again in a few minutes," and they all three went out—I had paid my 15l.—the prisoner held the stakes—they all three went out together and never returned—I did not see anything more of the prisoner until a Friday in the early part of June—I then saw him in company with one of the other men—the other got away—I gave the prisoner into custody—when we were all in the room, one of the parties put down a note and took it up again—that was the man that was to open the lock—the prisoner was in the room at the time—I did not see what the note was, I do not know whether it was good or bad.
[7 Jan. 1856:]
BENJAMIN SAMUELS. I live in Robinhood-lane, Poplar, and am a corn dealer. On 22nd Dec. Baker came to my house between 11 and 12 o'clock—he said, "I have a sack of old beans to sell"—I said, "What is about the price, Mr. Baker?—he said they were 15s. or 16s., I do not know which—I said, "Do you think my pigs would eat them?"
[1 Feb. 1858:]
CHARLES SWANN. I am a shipwright, of Regent Street, Blackwall. On 4th Jan., about 6 o'clock in the evening, I was in High Street, Poplar, and saw the prisoners and another man and woman opposite the Coopers' Arms, at the corner of Robin Hood Lane—James took something in a paper out of his pocket, gave something out of it to the men, and the two men went across the road into the Coopers' Arms, and called for some gin—I just looked inside the door, and told the barman something—I saw the two men at the bar; they paid with a 2s. piece—I cannot say which laid it down—I did not see it tried or returned to them—they went out, and went across the road to a little beer shop, Taylor's, and the women stood in the road—I went in directly they came out—I found a policeman towards Poplar, and he followed them with me to Shore and Brill's clothes shop—one of the men went in there, and the prisoners were over the road—the man came out, kept on the same side, and walked a little further up—Vernon went towards Commodore Court, and the other man walked towards High Street—I lost sight of the women—Iafterwards saw James coming down to Vernon, but she did not join him, as a constable seized hold of her.
[21 Oct. 1861:]
WILLIAM OSBORN. I am a baker of 114, High-street, Poplar—on Saturday evening, 28th September, about half-past 8 o'clock, the prisoner came into my shop, asked for a half-quartern loaf, and tendered me a shilling—I gave him 6d. and 2 1/2 d. change—as soon as he was gone I found it was bad, and went in search of him—I found him about ten doors off, entering Mr. Hogmire's, a butcher's shop—he bought a piece of meat—I was then in the middle of the road—he came out and joined another man, who was standing outside holding the loaf, while the prisoner went into the butcher's—the prisoner then placed the meat with the loaf in the handkerchief—the other man gave the prisoner something out of his waistcoat pocket—the prisoner then went to the corner of Robin Hood-lane, where I met a policeman and gave him in charge for passing bad money—he said, "I know nothing about it"—he was taken to the station—I went with him, and said to the inspector in his presence, "This is the man who passed one to me on the night of the 14th"—the prisoner then shammed deaf, and never answered—he was silent—I remember the prisoner being in my shop on the night of the 14th—he gave me a bad shilling for a half-quartern loaf—I kept the bad shilling in my waistcoat pocket, and gave them both to the policeman on the 28th—I marked them.
[25 Nov. 1861:]
HENRY WYHES. I live with my father, in High-street, Poplar—on 7th, November, about five minutes past 12 o'clock, I was coming from Brunswick-pier down Bruns-wick-street, and saw the prisoners talking together opposite Mrs. Cox's—Dixon said to Palmer, "Go on, they are busy now," no nodded towards Mrs. Cox's eating-house—Palmer pulled a shilling from his waistcoat pocket, rubbed it with his thumb and finger, went across the road, and got a pennyworth of plum pudding at Cox's—Dijon walked towards Robin Hood-lane where he stopped, and Palmer came out of the shop and they walked on together—I went into the eating-house and said something to Miss Gee, she pulled the till open and pulled out a shilling—I then left and went after the prisoners—I found them still going on together, and followed them to the East India-road and pointed them out to a constable—we followed them and saw them stand talking about three minutes—Palmer then went into Kennedy's, the tobacconists—Dixon walked up and down outside, and was taken in custody.
[22 Sep. 1862:]
JAMES BARRATT. I am a grocer and cheesemonger, at 42, Robin Hood-lane, Poplar—I gave an order to the prosecutor on 26th August—I went and bought the goods there—goods amounting to 4l. 15s. 8d. were delivered by the prisoner to me on the 28th, about 7 in the evening—I paid him that sum—this (produced) is the receipt—it was signed by the prisoner in my presence—he was sober.
[6 Apr. 1868:]
ANN EVANS. I am the wife of John Evans, who keeps the Lord Nelson, Robin Hood Lane—on 11th March, about eleven o'clock in the day, the prisoner came in and tendered me a bad shilling for a glass of ale—I gave it back to her and told her it was bad—she gave me a good one and I gave her the change—she came again next day for a pennyworth of gin—I served her—she gave me a sixpence and I gave her fivepence—I put the sixpence in an empty till—she went out of sight for a few minutes, and presently I went away—I went to get change for the only sixpence I had, and it was bad—next night, March 13th, she came again for a quartern of gin, and gave me a bad shilling—I said this is the third bad coin you have given me—she said—"Oh is it, if it is I will give you another one"—I told her about the sixpence, and she said that she would give me a sixpence, too, but she did not—I gave the bad coins to the constable—her companion ran away directly I said that I would send for a constable.
[28 Feb. 1876:]
220. GEORGE FREDERICK STANHOPE (32), Robbery on Barnabas Riley, and stealing from his person a watch and pocket-book, his property.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
BARNABAS RILEY. I am a tobacconist, of 278, High Street, Poplar—on the 26th February, after 10 o'clock at night, I was at the Iron Bridge public-house, Barking Road, with a friend—I saw the prisoner there doing sleight-of-hand work and different kinds of tricks—I have known him by sight many years; he is what they call a sharper—he is not a particular friend of mine, but he made himself an acquaintance—I serve thirty or forty public-houses—I had had more drink than was quite right—I went out of the public-house, leaving him there, but he was very quick after me—he ran after me as hard as he could with a little man about 5 feet high—I ran into Mr. Forsyth's shop, and remained there till I got him to go home with me and bring a little bit of a truncheon—the prisoner had not spoken to me nor I to him—we had to go 600 or 700 yards to my house—we were talking, and I did not see the prisoner—Mr. Forsyth left me at the bottom of Robin Hood Lane, and I went on alone—I opened my side door with my latch-key, and as soon as I had done so the prisoner said "Ain't you going to bid us good-night, old chap?" and he threw me down with one hand and took my watch and pocket-book—my wife and my boy spoke to me at my door, but I did not go in; I ran to the police-station with as much strength as I had left—I could not speak, but I was told something—my pocket-book was returned to me next morning, but I have not seen my watch again.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I went to my friend to take me home, I being rather in liquor—I did not stop to see whether you were following us—if you stole my watch and pocket-book I cannot say how my pocket-book came to be found at the public-house.
HENRY DIXON. I am a labourer, of 12, Leicester Street, Poplar—on the night of the 6th January, between 12 and 1 p.m., I was standing with Lovesey outside Mr. Townsend's, High Street, Poplar; that is about a mile and a quarter from the Irion [sic] Bridge tavern—I saw Riley pass me, and saw the prisoner and a man with a black eye—I said something to Lovesey and took notice of them—I saw them cross the road—I followed them; they went to Riley's door, and both got close to the door—Riley went in soon afterwards, and then the two men ran away, and Riley came out and holloaed "Stop thief!" and they both ran towards Bow Lane—they might go that way to the Iron Bridge, but it is a long way—when Riley called out a policeman ran up, and I said "You are just too late"—when they ran away I was so surprised that I had not time to do anything.
Cross-examined. You were 20 yards behind Riley on the same side—I saw Riley's Albert chain hanging on his waistcoat; he was smoking a pipe—I might have got stopped myself if I had stopped you.
HENRY LOVESEY. I live at 6, Surrey Place, Poplar—I was with Dixon standing outside a beer-shop, and saw Riley coming along and the prisoner and another man following him behind—they crossed the road after Riley, who unlocked his door and went inside, and the moment he got inside he made some answer—the prisoner then said "Come on," and they ran up Poplar—I was only following them two or three seconds.
Cross-examined. His coat was open and I saw that he had a watch, and thought you were going to steal it—I did not run after you because the last I stopped in Poplar I got my nose broken, but I got a reward of 10s.
HERBERT KERSEY. On 27th February, at 7.25 a.m., I found this pocket-book just opposite the Aberfeldie Arms, in a field—that is near the Iron Bridge—I gave it to Riley, it was open—nothing was in it, but the bills were strewed about by the side of it; I picked them up and put them inside. B. Riley (re-examined). This is my pocket-book—Kersey gave it to me.
GEORGE QUANTRELL (Policeman). On 26th February, about 11 o'clock or 11.30, I was near the Robinhood, Poplar, and saw Riley and another gentleman—the prisoner and another man were following, 20 yards behind them, in the direction of Riley's house—I did not watch them as I had no suspicion—I have been looking for the other man, but have not been able to find him.
[28 Feb. 1876:]
WILLIAM MARTIN. I live at 52, Robin Hood Lane, Poplar, and have carried on business there fifteen months as a corn dealer—I never lived at 137, High Street, Poplar, nor did I ever use that address—this sale note and invoice are not my writing, I know nothing about them—I never had any cards printed in my life—I am the only person in Poplar carrying on business as a dealer in mats, rags, and sweepings.
[23 Oct. 1876:]
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You and I went to the theatre together on 20th September, I picked up a prostitute, we all three went to a beer-house, and then walked with her to the turning of Robin Hood Lane—I did not want to take her home—I did not say that I had got no money; I had money in my pocket—I did not leave my purse on the window ledge—I did not tell you to meet the prostitute next morning at the top of Robin Hood Lane—I said that I had to go to work at 7 a.m. on a tea ship—I had nothing to do with her, and did not want to see her again—I did not tell you to take your clothes and dispose of them for 10s., so that she could go home with me—I could not take anybody to my place.
SAMUEL CLARK. I live at 2, Brown's Road, Plaistow—I went home with the prosecutor when he missed his clothes—I went to public-house, found the prisoner, and gave him in charge.
Cross-examined. I did not give this evidence at Stratford on the 22nd, because I was not called—I paid a visit to you at the police-court—I did not say in the presence of an officer, that I knew nothing about the case, and was only saying what Baldock told me.
WALTER THOMAS BAKER. I am assistant to Mr. Walker, a pawnbroker, of West Ham—on 21st September, about 8.30 a.m., I took those things in pledge from the prisoner, and advanced 20s. on them—he gave the name of Griffiths, Brooks Read—I gave them to the constable on the 22nd.
WILLIAM MAJOR (Policeman). On 21st September, about 8.40, the prosecutor came to the station, and I went with him, to a public-house at Poplar, and found the prisoner, who said that he had pawned the clothes, and got them from Baldock.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "On Wednesday evening last me and the prisoner went to the Albion Theatre together; he there picked up with a prostitute; we waited there till it was all over and then went into a public-house and had some beer. He. then wanted to know if she would accompany him home for the night, she said she would not, because he had no money. He then said "I can get you some money in the morning, "but she would not go with him. He told her then to meet me at 9 o'clock next morning at the top of Robin Hood Lane, that I should take his things to pawn and take her 10s., so as she and her son could get some things to go and live with him.
[24 Nov. 1879:]
BENJAMIN WARREN. I am a shoemaker at 47, Robin Hood Lane, Poplar—the prisoner's house is at the back of our yard—at 11.30 in the morning of the 16th; I found this knife on our fowl-shed, about 6 yards from the prisoner's yard—there as no knife there on the Saturday.
[2 Jun. 1902:]
JAMES MURRAY FLEMING. I am secretary to the Bazaar, Exchange and Mart newspaper, 170, Strand—I produce two instructions for advertisements in that paper (Read): "Lady's Beeston Cycle, 55s. 6d., part exchange, Wilson, 8, Robin Hood Lane, Poplar, E." and "Gentleman's Rover Pneumatic, 25s. 6d., grand order, Burton, 80, Baalam Street, Plaistow, E."—I also produce both those advertisements as they appeared in the Bazaar, Exchange, and Mart on April 4th.
WILLIAM GEORGE WELTON (Warder). I served a copy of this Notice to Produce on Robert Rix on May 20th.
ELLEN ROBINSON (Wardress). I served a copy of this Notice to Produce upon Emily Rix on May 20th.
WILLIAM CRIDLAND (Detective Sergeant K.) I served a copy of this Notice to Produce upon John Morris on May 20th.
NELLIE CARVER. I am single and live at 13, College Street, Swindon, Wilts—I saw the advertisement relating to a lady's cycle in the Bazaar, Exchange and Mart, and I wrote in reply stating that I had a bearskin rug value £5, which I would exchange for that bicycle if it was in good condition—I received this reply (Produced), stating that the bicycle was in first class condition and that my rug should be returned if I was not satisfied with the bicycle—believing the writer to be a lady named Wilson, and that she had a bicycle to sell, I sent this rug (Produced) and received this reply, stating that the writer was very disappointed with it, that it was not worth £1, but that if I would send a sovereign she would send the bicycle or return the rug—I then sent a money order for £1 post dated ten days—I received the money order back with a letter saying the machine would only be sent on receipt of cash—I then wrote and asked for the return of my rug at once, and in the meantime informed the police—I never received my rug back and heard nothing more of it until I heard from the police.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I sent my rug on April 7th.
ANNIE FIELD HOLDEN. I am wife of Albert Holden, of Blackburn, Lancashire—on April 4th I saw the advertisement (Produced) relating to a lady's bicycle, and I wrote offering £1 in cash and a violin and bow in case in exchange for the bicycle, and I received a reply stating that if I sent £1 and the violin and bow, the machine would be sent off at once—on April 10th I sent £1 and the violin and bow in case to Mrs. Wilson, 8, Robin Hood Lane—those are the violin and bow and case (Produced)—I received this letter (Produced) acknowledging the receipt of the violin and stating that the machine would be sent on the following Monday or Tuesday—not having received the machine I wrote again to Mrs. Wilson, but received no reply, and I then informed the police.
FRANCIS KEAST. I live at 445, Battersea Park Road—on April 4th I saw the advertisement relating to a gentleman's bicycle in the Exchange and Mart newspaper, and I wrote offering an air gun and a watch in exchange—I received this letter stating that if I sent them on, the machine would be sent on at once—these (Produced) are the articles I sent believing I should get the machine in exchange—the watch was marked "Glass, with care"—I received this letter stating that the articles were to hand and that the machine would be sent on the following Saturday evening—not having received the machine I wrote a letter to the address given in the advertisement, and it was returned through the post marked "Gone away."
ISABELLA BIGG. I live at 10, Robin Hood Lane, Poplar, and am the wife of Henry Edgar Bigg—my mother lives at No. 8, Robin Hood Lane, and keeps a tobacco and newspaper shop there, and I help her in the business—the female prisoner came into the shop about the end of February and asked if I would receive letters and parcels for which she would pay 1d. for each letter and 2d. for each parcel, and I agreed to do so—she gave the name of Wilson—I remember a parcel coming between February 8th and 10th, with the ends open, and I saw that it contained something similar to the rug produced—it was addressed to Mrs. Wilson—the female prisoner called for it and I gave it to her—I also remember another parcel coming about the same time containing the violin, bow and case produced also a registered letter, both addressed to Mrs. Wilson, and I handed them to the female prisoner when she called—she paid me 2d. each for the parcels and 1d. for the letter, together with the receipt (Produced) for the registered letter, and took them away—she always came alone except that she carried a baby.
[7 Sep. 1909:]
BRIDGET CAREY, 55, Wells Street, Poplar. I have known prisoner all my life and have generally been on good terms with her. On August 13 we had a quarrel about some money she owed me. On August 14, just after five o'clock, as I was walking with Mary Pawling up Robin Hood Lane prisoner came towards me and said, Biddy, I want to speak to you for a minute. I stepped to one side and she took a cup from under her cape and threw it into my face, saying, "Take that." I felt a burning sensation; I screamed out, 'I'm burnt: it's vitriol. I was taken to Poplar Hospital, where I was kept for a fortnight. I am still an out-patient. I gave prisoner no provocation whatever.
MARY PAWLING, who witnessed the assault, corroborated prosecutrix's statement.
Sergeant WILLIAM BRADLEY, K Division. On my charging prisoner, she said, "Thanks; that's good enough. She hurt me, and I hurt her. She has been persecuting me for a long time." At prisoner's house I found the bottle (produced): it had had vitriol in it; it has the label, "Poison—sulphuric acid." In Robin Hood Lane I found broken pieces of the cup.
- Anonymous. The Compleat Compting-House Companion: or, Young Merchant, or Tradesman's Sure Guide (London, 1763), p. 418 s.n. Robin Hood lane
- Anonymous, compil. The New Complete Guide to all Persons who have any Trade or Concern with the City of London, and Parts adjacent ([s.l], 1783), p. 59 s.n. Robin Hood lane
- Dobson, R.B., ed.; Taylor, J., ed. Rymes of Robyn Hood: an Introduction to the English Outlaw (London, 1976), p. 299
- Lockie, John, compil. Lockie's Topography of London, Giving a Concise Local Description of and Accurate Direction to Every Square, Street, Lane, Court, Dock, Wharf, Inn, Public Office, &c. in the Metropolis and its Environs (London, 1810), s.n. Robinhood Lane.
- Gover, J.E.B.; Mawer, Allen; Stenton, F.M.; Madge, S.J. The Place-Names of Middlesex apart from the City of London (English Place-Name Society, vol. XVIII) (Cambridge, 1942), p. 137, and p. xx for source reference.
- Gascoyne, Joel, cartog.; Harris, John, engr. An Actuall Survey of the Parish of St Dunstan Stepney alias Stebunheath ([London], 1703)
- Gascoyne, Joel, cartog.; Harris, John, engr. An Actuall Survey of the Parish of St. Dunstan Stepney, Alias Stebunheath: Being One of the Ten Paryshes in the County of Middlesex Adjacent to the City of London ([London], [1994?])
- British Library: Online Gallery; section, including Robin Hood Lane, as an overlay on Google Maps
- Daniel Crouch Rare Books Eastenders; entire map (reduced size)
- 25" O.S. map London (1869; surveyed 1867)
- 25" O.S. map Essex (1916; rev. 1914)
- 25" O.S. map Essex LXXXVI.9 (1916; rev. 1914) (georeferenced)
- 6" O.S. map Essex LXXXI (1870-82; surveyed 1862-73)
- 6" O.S. map Middlesex XVIII (1873; surveyed 1867)
- 6" O.S. map Surrey III (1880; surveyed 1868-73)
- 6" O.S. map London VIII.SW (1894-96; rev. 1893-94)
- 6" O.S. map Surrey III.NE (1898; rev. 1893-94)
- 6" O.S. map Essex LXXXI.NW (1899; rev. 1893-94)
- 6" O.S. map Kent I.NE (1899; rev. 1893-94)
- 6" O.S. map 'Kent' I.NE (1899; rev. 1893-94) (georeferenced).
- 6" O.S. map London Sheet L (1920; rev. 1913-15)
- 6" O.S. map London Sheet L (c. 1946; rev. 1938).
- Cf. also Gover, J.E.B.; Mawer, Allen; Stenton, F.M.; Madge, S.J. The Place-Names of Middlesex apart from the City of London (English Place-Name Society, vol. XVIII) (Cambridge, 1942), p. 137, and p. xx for source reference.
- Anonymous. The Compleat Compting-House Companion: or, Young Merchant, or Tradesman's Sure Guide (London, 1763), p. 418 s.n. Robin Hood lane.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: Ordinary's Account, 21st December 1739.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 3 Jun. 1772.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 11 Apr. 1810.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: Ordinary's Account, 13th September 1815.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 20 Feb. 1822.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 22 May 1822.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 8 dec. 1825.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 4 Dec. 1828.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 27 May 1830.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 17 May 1832.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 29 Feb, 1836.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 28 Nov. 1836.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 3 Apr. 1837.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 4 Feb. 1839.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 8 Apr. 1839.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 23 Aug. 1841.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 28 Nov. 1842.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 27 Feb. 1843.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 23 Nov. 1846.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 10 May 1847.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 18 Sep. 1848.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 26 Feb. 1849.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 26 Feb. 1849.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 29 Oct. 1849.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 25 Nov. 1850.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 15 Sep. 1851.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 3 Jan. 1853.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 9 May 1853.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 3 Jul. 1854.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 7 Jan. 1856.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 1 Feb. 1858.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 21 Oct. 1861.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 25 Nov. 1861.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 22 Sep. 1862.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 6 Apr. 1868.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 28 Feb. 1876.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 28 Feb. 1876.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 23 Oct. 1876.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 24 Nov. 1879.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 2 Jun. 1902.
- Proceedings of the Old Bailey: 7 Sep. 1909.