Edward Johnson

135

C H on 6th March 2024

Old Bailey Online EDWARD JOHNSON. Theft; burglary. 27th October 1845 Text type Trial account Defendants EDWARD JOHNSON Offences Theft > Burglary Session Date 27th October 1845 Reference Number t18451027-1998 Verdicts Guilty > Lesser offence Punishments Transportation 1998. EDWARD JOHNSON was indicted for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Mary Ann Bain, about two in the night of the 16th of Sept., at St. Pancras, with intent to steal, and stealing therein 9 spoons, value 1l. 8s.; 1 medal, 10s.; 5 rings, 3l.; 1 buckle, 6d.; and 1 pair of tweezers, 1s. 6d.; her property. MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution. MARY ANN BAIN . I am a widow, and keep a house, No. 13, Ampton-street, in the parish of St. Pancras—on the 16th of Sept. I was sleeping in the kitchen under the back parlour—about two o'clock in the morning of the 17th I was awoke by a sound like the falling of a bunch of keys—I got up, went to the stairs, and called—I went up two or three of the kitchen stairs—I had no light—I called to the young person who slept at the top of the house, and asked her if she wanted anything, or whether anything was the matter—there was no answer, and on looking round I discovered that a light which was in the back parlour was put out—I had seen a light in looking up as I came up stairs, I then asked the question, and then the light was put out—I entered the parlour, and saw the prisoner standing at the table; about two yards from the parlour door, and about the same distance from the window, which was wide open—he went out at the window directly he saw me—I called out, "Robbers! thieves!"—I stood at the window and continued calling out—he got over the wall into Frederick-place—there is a washhouse, the tiles of which come up under the window of the parlour I was in, and they would enable a person to get in at that window—there are gardens in the rear of the houses in Frederick-place, and I saw him go along the walls of those gardens—he slipped down from the wall into Frederick-place, and there I lost sight of him—the police then called out, "We are on the look out," and in about five minutes I heard a whistle, and another police-man said, "We have caught him"—the policeman came to my house with a lantern—I shut the window down, and went to the street door and let them in, but previous to that two other policemen had come in at the window which the thief had left open—they looked round, and I saw them find some plate in a handkerchief on the table—there was another handkerchief of mine lying there, but the plate was in one that was not mine—there were two table-spoons, seven tea-spoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, five gold rings, a silver medal, a buckle, and a pair of tweezers, and a parasol was lying near the handkerchief—the plate had been in a box on the drawers in the same room—the value of the things that had been removed was from 5l. to 7l.—they belonged to me—I picked up the bunch of keys under the table where they had fallen, which had awoke me—I had left the drawers unlocked the night before, but the box in the spoons had been was locked—every drawer had been opened and overhauled, and the dress which I have was on the floor—I had left that bunch of keys on the dresser in the front kitchen, and one of the keys opened the box which contained the plate—I had gone to bed about ten o'clock—no one slept in the front kitchen—I found a piece of candle on the mantle-shelf in the back parlour which had not been lighted, and there was another piece produced by the policeman which had been lighted—every room that was not occupied had been entered, and every drawer opened—I was last in the back parlour about seven o'clock the evening before—the sashes were both down, but the shutters were not fastened—I was the last person up in the house—the back parlour is exclusively occupied by me—I have no knowledge of the prisoner—I did not know the piece of candle—a few days after the robbery I found missing a stone, a magnifying-glass, a silk handkerchief, a black handkerchief, and a knife—they have been shown to me since, and I know them to be mine—I could not swear to the prisoner's face—in turning round to look at me his shadow darkened the moonlight, but the height of his figure and his person were the same as the prisoner's. Cross-examined by MR. HORRY. Q. You saw somebody going out, but his face was not towards you? A. Yes, it was, but I could not see it, he was standing at the table—immediately I entered the room he turned and looked at me, then stepped on the sofa, and went out—I saw him going out of the window, over the wash-house, and over the wall—I have three children—I was hearing them their lessons in the back parlour—I then went down to the kitchen—I did not go into the back parlour again—I have one lodger who sleeps in the top room—I had not fastened the back parlour shutters—I can say that no one belonging to me had opened the back parlour window that evening—I had merely drawn it down—there was no violence about the window—I should think it is more readily lifted up on the inside than on the outside—my lodger did not come in till ten o'clock. BENJAMIN SWANSON (police-constable G 172.) I was in Ampton-street, on the morning of the 17th Sept., at half-past two o'clock—I heard a noise as if it was a scraping up against the wall of the back garden of a house in Ampton-street—in a minute or two I observed the prisoner come over the wall, and as he dropped down his boots fell from him—he had them in his hand, and none on his feet—from the place where he came you could get along the walls and over the roof to the prosecutrix's house—I tried that—when he came over the wall, I heard the prosecutrix call out "Thieves! Robbers!"—the prisoner dropped the boots and ran off, and I after him—another officer came up and he took him to the station—I returned and answered the prosecutrix's call, that we were looking out for him—I went over the walls, and through the window, and saw the plate in the handkerchief on the table, near the back window. JAMES WARD (police-constable G 25.) I heard Swanson cry out, and saw the prisoner running as fast as he could down Frederick-street, towards me—when he came within thirty yards of me, I heard something fall from him, which sounded like iron—he tried to pass me—I caught him, and took him to the station—he had no shoes or boots on—he said he had lost his shoes in running after a man who had gone over the wall—I asked what it was that had fallen from him in Frederick-street—he said "Nothing"—I said I was sure there was something fell which sounded like keys—I went to the spot and found this chisel—Swanson came in soon after with the boots—I took them from him, and asked the prisoner if they were his—he said, yes, they were—I found on him a box of lucifer matches, two shillings and three halfpence—I asked where he lodged, he told me—I went to his lodging about five o'clock that morning, and there found this black silk handkerchief, and this knife, wrapped up together, on a ledge up the chimney—they have been identified by the prosecutrix since the prisoner has been committed, but he had no opportunity of going home that morning. JOHN LAWRENCE (police-constable G 61.) At half-past two o'clock in the morning, on the 17th Sept., I went to the prosecutrix's house with my lantern—I found this property on the table in the back parlour, and on the mantel-shelf this piece of candle, which had not been lighted, wrapped in a piece of paper—the prosecutrix said it was not here—I found this other piece of candle, which had been lighted, on the tiling of the wash-house, and a lucifer match. MARY ANN BAIN re-examined. This black silk handkerchief and knife are mine—I had worn this handkerchief on the Sunday previous to the Tuesday of this robbery—I have heard the policeman describe where the prisoner got over the wall—that was the place where I had seen the prisoner go—this property is all mine. Cross-examined. Q. Is there any mark on this handkerchief? A. I hemmed it ten years ago, and I know it—I had put it into the drawer on the Sunday, with this dress which I have on—I did not miss it till after this—this silver medal was given to my husband by the Society of Arts, for his invention of stamps for bookbinders. GUILTY of Stealing only. Transported for Seven Years.