"Hereupon, a number of persons in the room, which was crowded to excess, exclaimed, 'Bravo, jurors; you have done your duty nobly, the country is indebted to you;' which was followed by vociferous cheering in the room, re-echoed with prodigious vehemence by the crowd outside. As the jury withdrew, numbers of persons pressed forward and shook each of them eagerly by the hand. In the streets, as they passed, they were cheered by name, while the police were hooted.
"On May 29th, the Solicitor-General moved the Court of King's Bench for a writ of Certiorari to remove the inquisition into that court, for the purpose of having the verdict quashed. The verdict, he said, was bad in point of law. The conclusion at which the jury had arrived was not only unwarranted by the facts given in evidence, but directly contrary to those facts."
The verdict was quashed, and a man named George Nursey was charged with the policeman's murder, but the prosecution failed in getting a conviction.
Here is a somewhat curious police report treating of an extinct industry. Indeed, I doubt whether it would have obtained in 1833, had not tea been so dear. Times, May 14th—
"Union Hall.
"Yesterday, in the course of examination of two boys, who were brought from Camberwell, before Mr. Chambers, for gambling on Sunday, some disclosures of importance respecting the extent to which the suspected adulteration of tea is carried on in this metropolis were made.
"In the possession of one of the juvenile defendants a policeman found two shillings upon taking him into custody, and when the boy was asked by the magistrate where he got that money, he immediately replied, 'Not by gambling, your Worship, but by picking tea leaves.'
"Mr. Chambers (smiling): The tea plant does not happen to grow in this country, my lad; therefore you are adding a falsehood to the offence for which you were brought here, and that offence is always sure to lead to crimes of more magnitude.
"The defendant still persisted in the truth of his assertion, relative to the picking of tea leaves; and when asked to explain the manner in which he did it, he replied, 'Why, your Worship, I am employed by a cowkeeper at Camberwell, who sends me into the fields to gather sloe leaves and black and white thorn leaves, and he pays me so much a pound for all I picks. I works hard, and sometimes earns a good bit of money at the job.'
"Mr. Chambers inquired what the cowkeeper wanted with sloe and black and white thorn leaves; it could not be for the use of his cows.