William Burgess

Level 44

John McGowan on 23rd January 2023

In September 1844 William Burgess & Joseph Elder, clerks at the Banking House of Rogers & Co, City of London forged two Warrants to the valued of £8,000 and absconded. The remarkable account of how City of London detective John Forrester tracked both accused to Canada and then Boston and New York before apprehended them in Detroit is given in several publications. Elder committed suicide whilst incarcerated in Boston on the return journey. In December 1844 William Burgess was convicted and received transportation for life - see Scotsman newspaper 18 December 1844 p 4 on 'The Late Bank Robbery by Burgess & Elder'; and John Bull (1844) Volume 24 p764 on 'The Bank Forgery Case'. See also McGowan, John (2022) Policing the Metropolis of Scotland, 1833-1861 (Edinburgh City Archives) Volume 1, p1679 that outlined the detections of John and Daniel Forrester whilst in the City of London Police.

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

FOOTNOTE: William Henry Barber would receive a pardon and compensation. His bio is at https://convictrecords.com.au/convicts/barber/william-henry/51507. For the full text of his published letter, go to https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/8761394.

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

FOOTNOTE: William Henry Barber would receive a pardon and compensation. His bio is at https://convictrecords.com.au/convicts/barber/william-henry/51507. For the full text of his published letter, go to https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/8761394.

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

WAS HIS DEATH AN ACCIDENT? An extraordinary piece was published in the Colonial Times, Hobart, p4, on 24 September, 1847, . Its focus was the plight of William Henry Barber who, along with Joshua Fletcher, was sentenced to life for forgery of a will. Both men were sent to Norfolk Island. However, the contrast in treatment of Barber with the likes of WILLIAM BURGESS and Fletcher, by the Norfolk Island authorities, could not have been greater. An excerpt from Barber's letter and an accompanying editorial, republished in the Colonial Times, is below. It is limited to WILLIAM BURGESS's involvement in the story -- and it raises some questions about the timing of Burgess's death by drowning. -- THE EXTRAORDINARY TREATMENT OF MR. BARBER IN NORFOLK ISLAND. [From the Sydney Morning Herald, Aug. 26, 1847] Shall indignation, or shall pity gain ascendancy? Each strives for the mastery in reading the following narrative of Mr. Barber's sufferings. Such a tale of sorrow and magnanimity rarely occurs in modern times. For the sake of humanity we trust his case is unparalleled; if not, how many men may have been driven to desperation, or have sunk down brokenhearted to the grave, their blood alone appealing to just heaven against their tormentors. But Mr. Barber survives to tell, by his tongue and pen, some of the enormities which are perpetrated under the name of penal discipline. The singularity of his case--the singularity of his endurance, and of the favour of Providence which has carried him through such bitter cruelties, entitle him to a hearing, and is a sufficient reason for the space we appropriate to his narrative, and the patient sympathizing attention we solicit on his behalf. It is a story worth reading. It comes to us in the form of a letter, which he transmitted through a private channel, from Norfolk Island, at the time it bears date. This letter, however, was not posted till March last, so that its contents will probably transpire at opposite ends of the earth at the same moment. And what a revelation! (Extract from a letter to a friend in England.) Norfolk Island, 26th May, 1846. From the first moment of my landing here, everything that was calculated to destroy my mind and body, to drive me to some desperate act, or to break my heart, has been inflicted upon me. The most insulting and exasperating language was addressed to me. I was put to the most laborious, degrading, unwholesome employment, that could be found on the island; nor could the most obedient submission to every order, the most exact observance of every regulation, the most constant endeavours to render myself useful, nor repeated sickness obtain for me the least consideration from those in whose power my extraordinary fate has placed me. Two or three enlightened gentlemen, holding high and responsible Government appointments on the island, having by a minute and attentive consideration of all the circumstances of my case, in connexion with the disclosures made here by Joshua Fletcher, convinced themselves that I was suffering innocently, humanely interceded with the ruling authority in order to obtain for me treatment, at least as mild as that which other prisoners were receiving, some of whom were doubly and trebly transported criminals; but in vain. The authorities of "Government House" were inexorable: not only so, but they were exasperated at what they regarded as an irregular interference with the course which had evidently been predetermined upon, and accordingly the intercession so humanely designed only rendered those who made it obnoxious to the civil commandant, and, drew upon me increased oppressive and personal malignity. I will only trouble you with one or two facts in illustration of the statement I have advanced, and of the rancorous persecution of which I have been the victim. Upon my landing at Norfolk Island, Dr. Fuller, the Surgeon Superintendent of the Agincourt, reported his opinion of me in very favourable terms; accordingly Captain Lavers, a superintendent of convicts, applied for me to be his clerk, this was refused, while another prisoner by the same ship was appropriated to his service, and I was sent to clean the prisoners' wards! A second application was made for me by Lieutenant Lloyd, to be his clerk, but with a similar result, another prisoner by the same ship, and a second transported convict, was appointed to perform the duties which, compared with the loathsome drudgery allotted to me, was an agreeable pastime. For sixteen months I was kept to this disgusting labour, interrupted only by the frequent and severe illnesses which it produced. I was then sent to the fields, placed in one of the heaviest gangs, and compelled to perform a quantum of work equal to men having three times my physical strength, and who had been accustomed to manual labour all their lives. At this time there were, at every station on the island, prisoners (chiefly second transported offenders, and some of whom had arrived much more recently than myself,) employed as clerks, schoolmasters, and in other similar light and intellectual occupations. Several of these had been convicted of serious crimes even on the island whilst undergoing their original punishments. Of the latter class I will mention two instances: "John Swainston", who, at the Assizes held here in 1845, received an additional sentence of fourteen years' transportation, was employed in the chief office at the settlement as a clerk. "WILLIAM BURGESS" [caps are my emphasis], the Bank of England clerk, who, you will remember, robbed the Bank of seven thousand pounds, and absconded to America, was convicted here of conspiring with some of the military for effecting the escape of himself and others from the island; for this he was sentenced to work in chains for eighteen months. Whilst under this sentence he was regularly employed as clerk in the office at Longridge station, whilst I, who have never been accused even of a single infraction of the regulations, and who had been ten months longer on the island, was up to my knees in mud in the field, exposed to the severities of a most changeable climate--one hour exhausted by heat almost tropical, and the next deluged with torrents of rain--and associated with the veriest ruffians that ever disgraced humanity. And how--I think I hear you ask--has Joshua Fletcher been dealt with? You shall hear. [Fletcher had been sentenced to life for inciting a person to forge a Will. He was pardoned in 1856.] It has been the pleasure of "the powers that be," to treat him with the utmost indulgence. With the exception of a few days when he was placed in a light gang, for some insolence to his Superintendent, he has neither performed, nor been required to perform, any manual labour whatever; although, for the last twelve months at least, he has been in robust health. He, the proved and confessed author of the whole plot in which I was so unwittingly involved, has been "Medical Dispensor"--with an apartment appropriated to his private use--superior rations--superior bedding--and enjoying the privilege of sending his fellow-prisoners to light work, heavy work, or no work at all, at his discretion or caprice! Contrast this with my situation--herded with hundreds of my fellow-prisoners, sleeping in a kind of barn, crowded with "two hundred" inmates, with a single blanket to cover me, sometimes fairly washed out of my hammock by a torrent of rain through the sieve-like roof, pacing the floor in the dark at the peril of life and limb, my duty being to watch and preserve order in the ward by night, and to clean it by day; the perilous character of the watching and peace preserving department amongst two hundred convicts, many of whom had been convicted of murder, and nearly all of crimes of the deepest dye, you may in some measure conceive. The cleansing of a dozen stables would have been a wholesome and agreeable recreation compared with the daily purification of this large dormitory. In vain will your imagination try to realize my wretched plight. To render my misery complete, a special order was issued to confine me to the "camp"--a small area in which the barracks are situated, whilst other prisoners were permitted to go from station to station, interchanging visits with relatives or shipmates who might happen to be on the island. In my letter from the Cape you may remember my naming one high-minded and excellent fellow prisoner, with whom I had formed an intimacy. It was no sooner discovered that he occasionally communicated with me in the camp, than he was strictly forbidden to hold any intercourse "whatever" with me. Thus without even a shadow of imputation against either of us, I was denied the one drop of sweetness which I had enjoyed from the conversation of a well-educated, enlightened, and sympathising friend--a privilege not withheld from the worst conducted villains on the island. The police (and a viler set of miscreants than the Norfolk Island police could scarcely be collected from the regions of darkness) were instructed to have their eyes constantly upon me, in the hope, as I conscientiously believe, that some pretext might be afforded for the persecution which I had endured. These facile instruments of cruelty seeing me thus a marked man, a proscribed being--harassed and annoyed me under every conceivable pretext--and it is almost a miracle that I have so far escaped their fangs that to this day they have been unable to trump up a single accusation against me. In September, 1845, one of the chaplains (the Rev. T. Rogers), struck with my emaciated appearance, conceived the idea of engaging me as his domestic servant. This humane application was refused on the pretext that I was ineligible, not having served "two-thirds of my detention on the island." A few days after this gentleman applied for a prisoner by the same ship as myself, named Ball, (a second convicted man.) This application was at once complied with! But to expose still further the heartless mockery of this technical opposition to the claims of justice and humanity, I must select one more case out of very many. It is that of the late hospital clerk. He was a London solicitor, convicted upon his own confession, of a forgery on the Bank of England, whereby he defrauded the proprietors of about £2000, which he applied to his own purposes. He was brought to this island by the Maitland, in which the present Civil Commandant came out to succeed Capt. Maconochie. Immediately upon the prisoner's arrival he was made hospital clerk. In that situation he served the whole of his two years and a half's detention. Not one hour's manual labour did he perform; his employment being in a comfortable office, and having a private apartment for living and sleeping. From the alternate extremes of heat and cold, and wet, and hunger and thirst, and the revolted feelings to which my position constantly exposed me, this proved and confessed offender was permitted to enjoy a complete exemption. About a month after the application of the Rev. Mr. Rogers for me, I was taken to the hospital with a dangerous attack of dysentery, mainly superinduced, as Dr. Graham considered, by the nature of my employment; upon my being discharged, the Doctor recommended my removal to Cascade, the opposite extremity of the island, as a locality better suited to my constitution, and that I should be employed in some lighter and healthier occupation. This recommendation was doggedly resisted, although another prisoner named Clarke had been removed to the same station with the like object shortly before, without the slightest objection being raised. I was ordered back to Longridge; and when Dr Graham next visited the station, and found that I was returned to my old duties, and was in consequence suffering a relapse, he entered in the visiting book a most indignant protest, and ordered me back to hospital. Still my oppressors were obdurate. It was not until the chaplain (Mr. Rogers--Mr. R. succeeded Mr. Naylor) visited my bedside, and was constrained to wait upon the Commandant and expressed his opinion that if something were not speedily done to promote my recovery, the grave would soon close over my sorrows --that he yielded to the recommendation and the remonstrances of the medical officer. How I have borne all this--and how little I have deserved it--you will see by the accompanying certificates of the Rev. Mr. Naylor, the chaplain of the island, and other gentlemen (all Government officers too) who have been eye witnesses of my conduct and sufferings. Well may Mr. Naylor, who as a clergyman and a magistrate, has had ten years' experience of convicts in those colonies, and four on this island, say he "had never known a prisoner of the Crown exposed to greater wretchedness,"--to which he is pleased to add--"I rejoice to be able to declare that I have not seen an instance of more dignified suffering accompanied by invariable consistency of conduct." I cannot make this statement without acknowledging, which I do with heart-felt gratitude, the humane exertions of several gentlemen to obtain for me a participation in the privileges enjoyed by other prisoners, whose claims (quite irrespective of my innocence) were indisputably inferior to my own. Those benevolent persons remonstrated, but they only jeopardised their own appointments without benefiting me. One of them, the superintendent of agriculture, whilst I was at work in the field, covered with dirt, drenched with rain, and half starved, said, "Barber, I am really sorry to see you so long continued in this wretched situation, especially as your services would be so valuable to Government in a more suitable employment, but it seems, though I cannot conceive why it should be, a crime for any one to attempt to ameliorate your condition; you see how Mr. Rogers has been treated." The reason assigned for thus singling me out as an object upon whom to inflict, in a concentrated and aggravated form all the horrors of Norfolk Island was, that I was a prisoner of "great notoriety." But had not Joshua Fletcher acquired "notoriety?" Surely, if a wretched policy could have afforded a colour of justification for making me an advertisement of the miseries of penal discipline, consistency would have required a similar course towards that treacherous and heartless man. But to this enlightened " reason" another was added, namely, that my treatment was in pursuance of "instructions"! To show further the hollowness of this pretext for cruelty, as cowardly as it is tyrannical, I may, to the cases of BURGESS [my emphasis] and Fletcher, add those of Winterbottom and Dalmas. The former was the eminent solicitor, twice Mayor of Stockport, and he, though in robust health, has ever since his arrival been employed as a clerk. Augustus Dalmas, to whose crime I will not advert [it was murder], has, though perfectly sound in mind and body, never performed but one day and a half of real manual labour; his task has been to make chymical [sic; chemical] experiments, men being placed under his directions to perform whatever might be irksome to himself. He was also allowed from the first the indulgence so obstinately denied me, of sleeping apart from the mass of prisoners..." --00--

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

DEATH: On his Conduct record is the entry "Supposed to have been drowned at Norfolk Island on 15th March 1847". Below that it reads: "Vide Commandant's letter dated 17th March 1847". --0--

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

VDL & NORFOLK ISLAND: On arrival, William Burgess was listed as convict #18499, single, 23 years old and was assigned to the Station gang at Norfolk Island for 2 years and 6 months. 27 October, 1846: He was punished for "disobedience of orders" with 1 month's hard labour in chains. On a separate occasion, for neglect of duty, his term of punishment was to be extended by 3 months (https://stors.tas.gov.au/CON33-1-80$init=CON33-1-80p3 --0--

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

JOHN FORRESTER. I am chief officer of the City of London, stationed at the Mansion-house. I received a warrant for the apprehension of two persons, named Burgess and Elder, and, in consequence of instructions, ac­companied by Mr. Bord, from the Bank, I proceeded to America—I arrived at Halifax, and traced the parties from one place to another, till I arrived at Boston, where I found a person answering to the name of Elder—he was going by the name of Ellis there—on the 31st of Oct. I got into the house where he was lodging, and awaited his arrival, and on his coming home, about one o'clock in the day, 1 apprehended him—I told him I had a warrant against him, and showed it him—I said, "Your name is Joseph Elder "—he said, "It is"—Mr. Bord saw him, and recognised him as soon as he came in—after placing him in a place of security, I searched his lodging, and found 400 sovereigns in this black portmanteau, and some clothes in a cupboard, which I did not take away then—the portmanteau I brought away directly—I found in it some cards, with the name of Ellis on them, and a plate with it—these are some of the cards, and he had some of them on his person—I found letters in the portmanteau addressed to him in the name of Elder, and this discharge under the Insolvent Act—I brought some linen here, which is marked "J. E."—I took him before a justice, and proceeded with Mr. Bord and officers from Boston, in search of the prisoner, to Nahant, which is a small peninsula, I think, about fourteen miles from Boston—there is an hotel there—I went to the hotel—the American officer who was with me showed himself at the hotel—I did not see the prisoner there—I stopped there all that night, Thursday, the 31st, and part of the next day—I was about different parts of the island on Friday, and on Friday night I returned to Boston—before that, I saw this carpet-bag at the hotel at Nahant, and left it there—on Saturday I went to a place called Brewsters's Island, which is up the river, about eleven miles from Boston—I had an American officer with me—I went to a kind of wooden hut, or cottage there, and found the prisoner there—he knew me before, and I was acquainted with his person—the officer went in first—I followed, and the prisoner was by the fire—at that time he was without whiskers—when I knew him at the Bank I think he used to wear a little whisker, but I am not positive—I went up to him, and he said to me, "How are you, John?"—I said, "I am very well, but am very sorry to see you in such a situation"—he said, "So am I, but it can't be helped now, old fellow"—we came away together in a boat, and in the boat he asked, "Where Is Elder?"—I said he had made away with himself, which was the fact—I knew it from what I was told—I did not see him dead; he was buried when I came back—the prisoner said, "Well, I think he is a fool for that, he might as well have seen it out"—I searched him, but found nothing particular—I found some bags at Nahant—I brought the prisoner to Boston—he was locked up, and sent before a Ma­gistrate on Monday morning—after the prisoner was secured I got the carpet bag from the hotel at Nahant—it is the one that has been' produced—130 sovereigns were found at Nahant, and handed over to me by the American officer—I did not see them found—after taking the prisoner before the Magistrate in America, he was entrusted to me to bring to this country—before I came away I obtained possession of £6,500, which I brought over and delivered to the Governor of the Bank of England—I got it from Mr. Blatchford, agent for Mr. Freshfield, at New York—I had heard the prisoner say there was money in the Bank—he said the money was in the Merchants' Bank at Boston, and be should be very glad to sign it over, for the Bank of England to have it—I think that was before I had got it, but I do not recollect at what part of the transaction—I had no further conversation with him on the subject of the money—I did not go to Nahant with him—I brought him to Boston—I saw Mr. Blatchford long before 1 apprehended the prisoner—I had caused notice to be given about the money being taken—I went with Mr. Bord and a Judge Warren to the prison the prisoner was in, but what passed I do not know—I went to identify Mr. Bord as the gentleman representing the Bank of England, and after that I received from Mr. Blatchford the £6,500, which I brought to England with the 400 and 120 sovereigns. Cross-examined. Q. You were examined before the Lord Mayor? A. Yes—I believe I did not speak there of any conversation. ERNEST SHARP. I am a clerk in the Consol-office, in the Bank of England; my department is to post the ledger. (Looking at the transfer of the £6,305,) I posted that; here are my initials—I have the ledger here—that sum appears posted in the ledger to the credit of George Shum Storey, John Petty Musprat, William Cotton, and Matthew Whiting—I also debited William Oxenford with that amount—(the transfer-ticket, the forged transfer, the stock-receipt, the check for £8,000, and the eight Banknotes, were here read.) (William Goodrich, painter, 21, Great Ormond-street; Alexander Maisters, keeper of an ale and stout-house, Mile-end-road; and William Parish, lodging-house-keeper, Great Ormond-street; deposed to the prisoner's good character.) GUILTY. Aged 23.— Transported for Life. --00--

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

JAMES WILKINSON. I am a stable-keeper at Portman-mews, Portman street, Portman-square—I let out carriages. On Monday, the 2nd of Sept., between seven and eight o'clock in the evening I think, the prisoner applied to me for a horse and phaeton, or a cart, or anything I could let him have, as he wanted to do a little business in the City—I had seen him about there before—he mentioned a fishmonger in George-street, who came with him as knowing him—I had not known him long—he had a gig of me some time before that—he went away in the morning by himself, in the phaeton—I saw Elder at the corner of the street at the time—I had known Elder some time—he had recommended me to Elder for a character when he hired the gig.—Elder was between forty and fifty, rather nearer forty—Burgess started in the phaeton by himself; but when he got to the top of the mews, Elder walked towards him in Portman-street—he walked across the square to him—I did not see him get into the phaeton—he apparently got into it; but I could not see so well, as I was round the corner; but Burgess turned round towards where Elder was, and pulled up, as if for him to get in—he said he was going to do a little business in the City, and bring something in the phaeton—he wanted something with plenty of room in it, something strong—that he should be some hours absent—the phaeton came back, but I was not present. JOHN WARREN. I keep the General Townsend, in Oxford-street; it it also called the George Townsend—Joseph Elder lodged at my house for three years, till Sept. last—the prisoner was in the habit of visiting him—towards the last two or three months previous to Sept., his visits became rather more frequent—he sometimes came to Elder before he was up in the morning, and went into his bed-room—I remember Elder coming in on the 3rd of Sept., about three o'clock in the afternoon, and taking leave of me—he shook hands with me, said he was obliged to me for all favors, that he was going out of town, and he might be gone a fortnight or six weeks—about two hours after that, I was in the passage of my house, and saw Elder there—it was about five o'clock—he was in front of the bar—that was the last time I saw him. WILLIAM DRAKE. I have been a groom, employed at the stables in Portman-mews. On Tuesday, the 3rd of Sept., between two and three o'clock, I was at the corner of Portman-street and Oxford-street—I saw a one-horse open phaeton coming up Oxford-street from the City, and come to the corner of Portman-street—the prisoner was driving it—he asked if I could go along with him—he said he wanted some one to bring his horse and chaise back to Mr. Wilkinson's—I went with him to George-street, and several places—he brought a parcel out of George-street, put it into the bottom of the carriage, then drove back to Portman-mews, to Leonard's, the Three-tuns, Portman-mews; he then went to Shackell's-in Bryanston-street; then went into a public-house, and came out with a soldier—he went into different houses, leaving me to take care of the horse—there was a large parcel in the phaeton, wrapped up in a coat, and a carpet-bag full, and two parcels, which he brought from Shackell's; it was two bundles of clean linen—I went with him to Caunt's, in St. Martin's-lane—he had the soldier on the box with him then—when he got to Caunt's, he took the things out of the phaeton himself, left me there, paid me, and sent me back to Mr. Wilkinson's with the phaeton—I took it there. GEORGE ARLIS. I am a coachman, and live in Park-street, Grosvenor-square—I know the prisoner and knew Joseph Elder. In the first few days of Sept. last they came to my mews—I cannot tell the day—I only know it was the beginning of Sept. by this letter, which I afterwards received, the post-mark of which is the 4th of Sept.—it was two or three days before I received the letter—it must have been the 1st, 2nd, or 3rd of Sept.—I have every reason to believe it was the 3rd—they came to me in a four-wheeled phaeton with one horse—Elder came into my stable, and spoke to me—I went out, and the prisoner was standing on the curb-stone with the reins in his hand—I took a saddle and bridle out of the phaeton, and I believe they went away together—Elder owed me 10s., and left the saddle and bridle with me for sale—I was to return his wife the difference of the money—this was as near ten o'clock as I can recollect—(looking at a letter)—I believe this to be Elder's writing—I never saw him write. BENJAMIN CAUNT. I keep the Coach and Horses, St. Martin's-lane. I know the prisoner by his coming to my house previous to this robbery—I did not know Elder—the prisoner was at my house four or five times during a fortnight before that—he came in a grey coat, which he gave my brother when he went away—he was dressed as a horse-dealer, in boots, coming up to the knees, and spurs—I should think it was about a week before the 3rd of Sept.—he showed me his spurs, and said he was a horse-keeper, and his stables were in Oxford-street; that he had five large hay-ricks down in the country, and also a large farm; that if he knew I kept a horse he could have kept it for me, and would not have charged me anything for it for a considerable time—I said, "I am much obliged to you, my mare stands in Regent-street"—he said, "I think I shall sell my farm and five hay-ricks, make what I can of them, and go and buy a farm in America"—he said, "Can you let me have a private room here for a week or so? I will pay you well for it"—I said, "I will if possible"—he said, "I shall have £8,000 or £9,000 with me, and shall have six soldiers with me to guard me," and that he was going to deposit the money in the bank at Newcastle-on-Tyne—he came in a day or two after with a portmanteau, and said, "Caunt, will you lend me half a sovereign to deposit on this portmanteau till I fetch it," and he had three bags—he came to me inside my bar, which does not look into the street—he asked me to lend him 10s., or pay 10s. for the portmanteau, and keep it as security—I said, "I don't know you, the man can leave the portmanteau, and I will be answerable for the money; and if you don't want the portmanteau, the man must fetch it back"—the man was there with it on his back—he left it—I ordered it to be taken into my bed-room, and not delivered up till the money was paid—this is the portmanteau—he said, "When I come I shall have the money, and will pay you before I take it away; I shall have £8,000 or £9,000, and then I will pay you"—I was not at home on the 3rd of Sept. ROBERT CAUNT. I am the last witness's brother, and am his waiter and barman. On Tuesday afternoon, the 3rd of Sept., the prisoner came to the house in a four-wheeled phaeton, drawn by one horse—a soldier came with him, and Elder came a few minutes after—they had a carpet-bag with them—the prisoner and the soldier carried the carpet-bag between them—it was very heavy indeed—they carried it with difficulty—the prisoner asked me for a private room—I said, "There is the bar-parlour you can walk into." which they did-the prisoner ordered refreshment, and while I was getting it ready in the bar, I heard a noise in the bar-parlour—it was like jingling of gold—I looked through the curtain which divided the bar from the parlour, and saw gold in the carpet-bag, which was open—there were two canvas bags in it—the prisoner was handling the gold—one bag had burst, and some gold got loose into the carpet-bag—I believe the prisoner put some of the gold into his pocket—I saw him do so—I asked the pri­soner where he was going with that gold—he said he was going to the Edinburgh bank, and said, "I have two soldiers to guard me"—I asked him to let me lift the bag for a reason of my own—I tried, but could not, on account of its weight—while Elder was there, the prisoner asked me where my brother or his mistress were—I said they were both out—he asked me if there was not a portmanteau of his here—I said I believed there was, but he could not have it, as it was locked up in their bed-room—Elder said, "If money will get it we must have it"—I called the pot­ boy to the bar, and Elder sent him for a locksmith—the servant went up stairs with him—he picked the lock, and brought the portmanteau down—I gave the prisoner the bill for it, and he paid me £1.10s. for it—he said that was all right—Burgess put both the canvas bags, with their con­tents, into the carpet-bag—about seven o'clock Elder went for a cab, and brought it to the door—the prisoner was still sitting in the bar-parlour—Elder came to the bar, and pressed on him to go, or he would go without him, he could not wait any longer, his time was expired—I got down everything that was owing, and they paid my bill, £2 or £3—they had port and sherry, and beef-steaks—the prisoner paid it—the portmanteau was locked up—the prisoner and the soldier carried it out of the bar parlour to the cab—Elder was before the bar—he and the prisoner got into the cab, which went off, and 1 saw no more of them—I did not hear them direct where to drive. Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. No, nor was my brother—I first told this story last week—I believe I heard of the robbery a fortnight after it took place—I was in the country at the time—the officer came to my brother's house, and I told him of it. JAMES GINGLE. I am a soldier in the Foot Guards; I know the prisoner, by being in company with him seven or eight times, but did not know his name. On the morning of the 3rd of Sept., between eleven and twelve o'clock, I saw him driving a phaeton with one horse, opposite the Sigger's Head, Tower-hill—I was quartered at the Tower—he cut me with his whip, and asked me for Randle, another soldier—I said he was in the Tower, he would find him in the barracks—he asked where I was going—I said 1 had leave till twelve o'clock, and was going to the Three Tons, near Portman-barracks, to meet a friend—he said there was going to be a supper at Caunt's, and asked me to meet him there—I said I should not be able—he had somebody in the carriage with him, who appeared between forty and fifty, a very stout man—between three and four that afternoon the prisoner came with the carriage to the Three Tuns, where I was, and asked me to come into the carriage, and go to Caunt's—I did so—Drake was in the carriage when I came out—when I got to Caunt's, I helped him to carry the carpet-bag out of the carriage, it was very heavy, and was like the bag produced—I cannot swear to it—I helped him to put it into the little room next the bar—it was getting rather dark, it was near five o'clock—I remained at Caunt's till he went away, about a quarter or twenty minutes past seven—during that time, I saw two canvas bags inside the carpet-bag—he took them out of the bag, when a person came to inquire for him just before he went away—I saw him put them on a chair—I did not see what he did with them afterwards, as I left the room—there were three of us together—he said he would trouble us to walk into the other room—there was a civilian with me—I do not know who—it was after we had had beef-steaks and wine that he desired us to go into the other room—before he went away another person came—I think it was the same person I had seen in the morning—I had never seen him before that morning—he came into Caunt's, and asked the prisoner if he was ready to go—I carried the portmanteau into the cab, and the prisoner carried the carpet-bag—the portmanteau was rather heavy—I saw the prisoner carry the carpet-bag—it did not appear so heavy as when I had carried it—the prisoner and the other man went to the cab—one got inside and the other out—I do not know who the other man was. Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. No, JOHN HUGHES. I am a paper-stainer. I was at Caunt's public-house on the night of the 3rd of Sept., and saw the prisoner there—I was one of the party—we had four bottles of wine and some beef-steaks—I saw the soldier there—I knew Elder before, I had seen him scores of times—he came there about twenty minutes after seven o'clock—he said to Burgess, "I want you to go directly "—he said, "I am coming in five minutes". Elder said, "If you don't come I shall go; I have a cab ready at the door"—the prisoner went away with him in a cab—one Grinham was there that night. Cross-examined. Q. You were not before the Magistrate? A. No. GEORGE BENBOROUGH. I am a porter at the Mersey-hotel, at Liverpool. At half-past five o'clock on the morning of the 4th of Sept., two persons arrived at the Hotel by the London-railway, in a rail way-carriage—the prisoner is one of them—the other was a stout, ruddy-complexioned gentleman, from forty-five to fifty years old I should think—one of them, I do not recollect which, asked me if they could have a private room to take breakfast in, also a place to put their luggage—I noticed none of their luggage except a heavy portmanteau of a dark colour, which I took on my shoulder—it was extremely heavy—I showed them to a private room—I afterwards heard the prisoner ask Mr. Home, the landlord, if he would give him notes for sovereigns—he could not do it, but desired me to show the prisoner to a bullion-dealer—I offered to go with him, but he declined going—he went out by himself—that was about nine o'clock—I did not see what became of his companion—I saw the prisoner again between ten and eleven—his companion was then with him—the prisoner asked me to take his luggage into the boat, to go on board the Britannia steam ship—took his things down—I do not recollect anything particular, but the port­manteau—I noticed that, owing to the weight of it—I do not remember whether I took anything else or not—I put them on board a small boat, to take them to the Britannia—I saw the boat go out towards the vessel. JOHN HEWITT . I am commander of the Britannia steamer—she was advertised to sail from Liverpool to America on the 4th of Sept.—we sailed about half-past two o'clock, that day—we had nearly one hundred passengers on board—I was not aware that the prisoner was a passenger for three or four days—I saw an elderly gentleman, a stout man, with a ruddy complexion, in his company—he appeared about forty-four or forty-five years of age—they both went by the name of Ellis on board, and passed as uncle and nephew—the prisoner called the other man his uncle—I landed them at Boston, on the 16th of Sept.—the prisoner is the man who came in my ship in the name of Ellis. Contd...6 --

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

WILLIAM BEST EDE. I am a clerk in the Sorting Department it the Bank. On the 3rd of Sept. I received from the witness eight £1000 banknotes, and signed my name for them—they were Nos. 22201 to 22208 inclusive. LEONARD DEAN. I am porter at the Bank, and remember this occurrence on the 3rd of Sept., when 10,000 sovereigns were brought into the teller's office—I laid eight bags of 1000 each on the counter myself for the gentleman to receive—he emptied those eight bags into two larger bags which he brought with him, and put those two larger bags into a carpet-bag—I was afterwards called in with Aston, and assisted him in carrying the bags to the outside the Bank—there was a dark green open carriage, like a phaeton, outside the Bank, drawn by one horse—I put the bag into the bottom of the carriage—I had a very slight knowledge of the prisoner—there was a driver on the box of the carriage—I did not notice him sufficiently to say whether it was the prisoner—the carpet-bag was like the one produced. JOHN RAY. I am a clerk in the Power of Attorney-office, and know the prisoner. On Tuesday, the 3rd of Sept., I saw him in the middle of the day—I cannot tell the hour, but I met him in a phaeton, near Birchin-lane—it was a one-horse carriage, and the prisoner was driving—it was a dark-green coloured carriage—he was turning out of Cornhill into Birchin-lane—there was a person in the carriage, older than the prisoner, about forty-five years of age, of a ruddy complexion, and stout—I did not know Elder—they went down Birchin-lane, away from the Bank, towards the river. SOPHIA COHEN. I am married, and live with my father, Mr. Soloman, in Vinegar-yard—he keeps a general dealer's shop. On Monday, the 2nd of Sept., I remember the prisoner coming to our shop—I was present—my brother, who is since dead, served him—he asked for a portmanteau—there was one at the time standing at the door—he asked to see it down, and when it was shown to him he asked to have it blackened over—my brother undertook to have it done—he asked if he could have three bags made to fit the bottom of it—they were to be made very strong indeed, and of brown holland—he said they were to be sent to Mr. Caunt's public-house, at the corner of St. Martin's-lane, the Coach and Horses—my brother asked for a deposit—I did not hear what the prisoner said in reply—it was after that he said it was to be sent to Caunt's, and Caunt would pay for it—the portmanteau was blackened—I think it was about three o'clock, and it was sent home between four and five, the same evening—(looking at a portmanteau)—I believe this to be the same—it has got white edges inside, as the outside was blackened—it had been white—this is the same portmanteau. THOMAS PASTILL. I am a boot and shoemaker, and live in George-street, Portman-square. I knew a person named Joseph Elder for three or four years—I did not know his business—I believe he was a dealer in horses—I know the prisoner—I first became acquainted with him about the same time as Elder—they went to the same house as I was in the habit of using—I first met the prisoner at Mr. Warren's, the George Townsend public-house, Oxford-street—Elder, I believe, lodged there—I knew but little of the prisoner till September, 1843, when I met him at Margate—he was then in company with Elder—I had seen him previously at the George Townsend in company with Elder—about three or four months after I came from Margate, Elder and the prisoner called at my house one evening—Elder asked if I knew any one who could accommodate the pri­soner with board and lodging, or if I could myself—I said I did not know any one, and had not room myself, but if I had a vacancy I would let him know—in July last I had a vacancy, and left a letter at hit lodgings—he afterwards came to lodge at my house in July—I had seen him and Elder together at other places after they applied about the lodg­ing—after the prisoner came to lodge at my house, Elder called to see him several times—I remember Sunday the 1st of Sept.—I saw Elder there about a quarter to one o'clock in the day—the prisoner and Elder were sitting just within my shop door—as soon as I opened my parlour door, and went into the parlour from the passage, they rose up and said, "Let us go up stairs"—the shop door was open, and they were sitting in the shop—it is a back shop door, leading into the parlour—Burgess's lodging was up stairs—they remained up stairs about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—I rung the bell for Burgess to come down to dinner—he knew what the bell meant—they both came down together—Elder was going away—I asked him to stop dinner, which he did—after dinner I laid down on the sofa, and while lying there I heard the prisoner mention the word "power of attorney"—Elder said, "How is it to be done?"—Burgess replied, "It is like placing two boxes on this table, take it out of one, you put it into the other"—there was then some conversation which I did not hear—the next I heard was Elder say, "Is it to be Tuesday or Wednesday?"—Burgess replied, "I do not know, I will tell you to-morrow"—Elder then said to Burgess, "What clothes do you mean to travel in, for I have got no great coat?"—Burgess replied, "No more have I"—Elder said, "I shall wear my loose one" (I had seen him wear a loose coat)—Burgess replied, "I shall wear this over my black one"—he had a loose coat on at the time, a kind of wrapper, which he used to wear—I went out at about half-past three o'clock in the afternoon, and left Elder there—while I knew him he went by the name of Joseph Elder—the prisoner knew him by that name—I returned to my house about ten o'clock at night, and found the prisoner there, but did not see Elder—on the Monday, Elder was at my house three times—he called a fourth time, but I did not see him then—he called first about twelve in the day for a bird that Burgess had, but did not take it then—Burgess was not there—he came a second time for the bird, and took it away—he came a third time, in about ten minutes—he had left his umbrella, and returned for it—I saw him and Burgess together that day at the George Townsend in Oxford-street, about ten o'clock at night—I did not hear anything pass between them—Burgess was sitting by my side—Elder came to the door and beckoned him out—he went out, they returned in about twenty minutes together, and remained together about an hour—Burgess left with me and went home—I did not see Elder the next day—while the prisoner lived with me I had some money to put in the funds, and got him to bring me home the price of stock—he once told me he had £2000 in the Bank—he borrowed £2 of me about a week after he came to lodge with me, and on the 2nd of Sept. he borrowed a sovereign—he went out in the morning of the 3rd of Sept.—he was gone out when I came down stairs—I saw him again a little before nine o'clock—I had been out, and found him in the parlour at breakfast—he went out about half-past nine or ten o'clock, and came in again about half-past three o'clock in the afternoon—he then had a coat on similar to the one he has now, and a blue handkerchief round his neck—he walked to my house—I saw no carriage whatever, but when he went out in the morning he had a driving whip in his hand—when he came in the afternoon he paid me £7 in gold, which he owed me—they appeared new sovereigns—he left between half-past three and half-past four o'clock, I believe—I never saw him again till he was at the Mansion-house—when he left my house, he said he should be back that night, he should not be late—he had three sovereigns in his hand—he showed them to me, and said, "This is all I have got, I shall not be late." Q. He said once that he had £2000? A. Yes; that was when I asked him the price of stock—I think it was in Aug.—he said he was going to sell out some money—that was on Sunday, the 1st of Sept., when I came home—he said he had no money, and should get some next week, that his friend George was going to sell out, and he would let him have some—I should say Elder was about fifty years of age, about five feet six inches, rather stout, with rather grey hair and whiskers. Cross-examined. Q. You were not examined before the Magistrate? A. No—I first heard of this forgery on Monday, the 9th of Sept.—I communicated this to Forrester that afternoon—I was before the Lord Mayor, but not examined. Contd...5 --

Level 218

Dianne Jones on 23rd May 2022

HON. STUART WORTHLEY. Q. Is the attesting witness to the identity generally the broker? A. Yes; I have frequently seen a clerk of the Bank an identifying witness—I knew the prisoner's person, but had no acquaintance with him beyond knowing him in the establishment—I think my attention was called to this transaction on the Monday after, the 3rd of Sept—the facts were fresh in my recollection at that time. THOMAS TOKELEY. I am a stock-jobber, and have been so for nearly forty years. I know the prisoner, by his entering my tickets in the Three and a Half Reduced—I know nothing more of him than as a Bank clerk—he called on me when I was standing in the Bank, at the latter part of Aug., and said that he had a friend who wanted to raise £8000, and he had £8200, stock—I do not think a word passed beyond that—I had no further conversation with him at that time—he left me immediately—on Tuesday, the 3rd of Sept., I saw him in the street, at the foot of the Bank steps—he brought me a ticket, filled up in the regular way, for the purpose of the sale of £8200 stock—it was a ticket of this sort, the ordinary transfer ticket that is used at the Bank—I did not notice what name it was in—I noticed the amount in figures—I immediately passed it to Clement Smith, who is a stock-jobber, and we agreed as to the purchase, at, I think, at 98 7-8ths, the price of the day—I calculated the amount that would be in money—it was £8107.15s.—I afterwards received from Mr. Smith, in the course of the day, two receipts—this is one of them—it was not then signed—I gave them to the prisoner, to go into the Consol-office, to make the transfer—I believe at the time I gave him the receipts I was standing at the bottom of the Bank steps, in Bartholomew-lane—there was a crowd of persons about there—I do not know that any party was in his company—he took the receipts from me—when he came back from the Transfer-office he brought me the same two receipts—I was then standing on the Bank steps—they were then regularly signed and witnessed by the clerk—I believe at that time he had a friend with him, but I never spoke to him—I saw a person with him—nothing passed—the prisoner gave me the receipts, and I passed them to Henry Smith, the son of Clement Smith, to go and fetch me the money—the prisoner told me he would wait at the Auction-mart Coffee­ house for the money—I afterwards received this check (looking at it) for £8,000; from Clement Smith, also a £100 note, a £5 note, and £2.15s. in cash—I took them to the Auction-mart Coffee-room—I there found the prisoner sitting down with the same man that was with him when he brought me the receipts—I put the money on the table before them—his friend took up the £8,000 check, and the prisoner took the cash and the Bank notes—he never told me who the other person was—I had no conversation with him whatever. Cross-examined. Q. As far as anything appeared to you, it seemed a regular transaction? A. I had no reason to doubt it at the time—there was nothing unusual in it, or in the mode of conducting it—I had no reason to suppose there was anything unusual at the time. CLEMENT SMITH. I am a stock-broker and jobber. Mr. Tokeley applied to me, on the 3rd of Sept., to purchase of him 8200l. stock, Three per Cent. Consols—I was to give 8107l. 15s. of it—the transfer ticket was made, and the thing done all regularly—the name of William Oxenford was on the ticket, as the party making the transfer, and he was described as of the custom-house—I had not the money at that moment, and applied to Mr. Mortimer—I had one ticket given to me in the first instance by Mr. Tokeley for 8200l.—Mr. Mortimer afterwards gave me one sum of 6305l. 3s. 5d., and the balance was to go in his own name, and my clerk, by my instructions, wrote these tickets—I made it into two sums, one of 6305l. 3s. 5d., to George Shum Storey, John Petty Muspratt, William Cotton, and Matthew Whiting, all of the Pelican-office, Lombard-Street, and the balance 1894l. 16s. 7d. in Mr. Mortimer's Own name—I do not Know what became of the original transfer ticket for the 8200l.—we had no occasion to keep it, and it must have been destroyed—I cannot say that I did destroy it—I have looked for it—it has given me a deal of trouble—it is not a document that I am in the habit of keeping—I know the prisoner—I went to the power of Attorney-office to inquire if he was there on Tuesday morning, the 3rd of Sept., after Mr. Tokeley had spoken to me about the business—I should think it was about a quarter to eleven o'clock—I heard he was not there, and was not likely to be there—this is the check by which the purchase of the stock was made—gave it to Mr. Tokeley, and afterwards gave him a 100l. note, a 5l. note, and 2l. 15s. in cash, the balance of the money. Charles Chatham Lawrence. I am one of the cashiers at the banking-house of Sir John Lubbock and Co. On Tuesday, the 3rd of Sept. last, about twenty minutes before two o'clock, this check for 8000l. was brought to me by two persons; the prisoner was one, the other was a person of about forty-five or fifty years of age—the prisoner had a carpetbag, on which he was leaning on the counter—it appeared to me to be empty—we always ask the name of parties presenting checks—I did so on this occasion, and the name of "Oxenford" was given—it was the prisoner's companion who presented the check to me, and who gave that name—I asked how he would like it, and he replied, "Part or all in gold "—I said, "If you want part or all in gold, you had better have large notes, and get the whole of it at the Bank of England"—I eventually gave them eight notes of 1000l. each—I put them into the hands of the person who accompanied the prisoner, in his presence—these eight cancelled notes are the notes I paid on that occasion—(these were Nos. 22201, to No. 22208, all dated 13th May, 1844)—the prisoner's companion counted over the notes in his presence, and before he left the counter, I saw him write something in the corner of the notes, in the prisoner's presence—I did not see what he wrote—to the best of my recollection, it was his companion who counted the notes and wrote in the corner of them—(looking at a carpet-bag produced)—the bag on which I saw the prisoner leaning was such a one as this; that was the prevailing colour and pattern of the bag—I do not speak to its identity, but it was that sort of colour and pattern—the prisoner's companion was a man I should judge about my own height, about 5ft. 9in.; but being on the other side of the counter, I could not exactly judge of his height; he had a ruddy complexion, and was a well-looking man—I did not observe particularly whether he was stout or thin. WILLIAM HIGMAN. I am one of the superintendents of the issue department of the Bank. On the 3rd of Sept. last, about two o'clock in the afternoon, a man presented eight 1000l. notes at my counter for cash—it is necessary, according to the practice of the Bank, to have the name and address of the party presenting notes for payment—when these notes were handed to me, there was some writing in the comer which I could not decipher, and I asked the party presenting them his name—he said, "Oxenford"—I observed that there was only "Brixton" put as the address—in consequence of that I put a question to him, gave him the pen, and requested him to write—he wrote "Vassal-road" on them—after being inspected by the inspectors, they were handed to Mr. Ager, one of the tellers—I gave him the order for the gold, and Mr. Ager got it—I saw Dean, the porter, bring 10,000l. into the office, in bags of 1000l. each—I did not see the bags given to the party, as my duty took me to another part of the office—I afterwards saw the man emptying the gold from our 1000l. bags into two canvas bags, which he put into a large carpet-bag that he had in his hand—it was such a bag as the one produced, about that size and description—I cannot say that I saw him attempt to lift it—I after wards saw Aston and Dean, two Bank porters, each with a bag on his shoulders, go out of the hall—they were the two canvas bags that the man had brought with him—I did not see him put the two canvas bags into the carpet-bag—I saw him with the two canvas bags—I have heard Mr. Lawrence's description of the party who presented the notes to me—it is quite correct—he was a stout ruddy man, about forty-five years of age—I can speak to the first of these notes (looking at it) being one that I cashed on that occasion—I saw him put "Vassal-road" on it. THOMAS AGER. I am teller in the Issue Department of the Bank. On the 3rd of Sept., between one and two o'clock, I received directions from Higman to get some gold—it was near two o'clock—I accordingly got 10,000l. in gold—I assisted Dean, the porter—it was in separate bags of 1,000l. each—I brought them from the Treasury, and desired Dean to give the person I believe to be Elder, eight of the bags—I saw eight bags put on the counter, and saw a person there who, I believe, had presented the notes—that person took them away—he had a carpet-bag, and two canvas bags—the canvas bags were on the counter—the carpet-bag answered the description of the one produced—he put them into the canvas-bags, and then into the carpet-bag, but both the canvas bags were taken out and carried away by two porters—I delivered the gold in the Issue Department, which is in the hall—there is a passage through the hall—on crossing the hall you get to the out-teller's office—between the hall and the out-teller's office there is a passage which is darker than the rest of the Bank—the drawing produced (looking at it) is a correct plan of that part—I should think that a person standing where this blue mark is, could see me place the gold on the counter—this pink mark is where 1 was standing—a person standing at the blue spot could see me pay the money, and if he was familiar with the Bank, he could leave the building without passing through the hall. MATTHEW GIBBINS. I am a bookseller and stationer, and deal in patent blacking. On the 3rd of Sept. I had occasion to go to see a gentleman at the Bank, on business—I had passed through the hall—when I got to the out-teller's office, it wanted four minutes to two o'clock—I observed that by the clock, as I had made an appointment to be there at two—I passed through the passage which runs outside the out-teller's office, and saw a person there who was always represented to me as Mr. Burgess—I believe it to be the prisoner—he was standing, looking towards the hall—I have seen this plan—he was standing at this blue spot, or perhaps within afoot or two of it—he was on the right hand side of the passage—I have been to this place since, and looked towards the hall, and found a person might see what passed at the part marked pink, which is the second desk—the hall is very light, but this passage is darker—I said to him, "How do you do, Sir," and believe I said, "Burgess," but he did not answer—I left him there. Cross-examined. Q. You were not examined before the Magistrate? A. No. Contd...4 --