From the Dover Express and East Kent Intelligencer, 19 May, 1860.

INFRINGING LICENSE

Joseph Birch, landlord of the “Princess Alice” Snargate Street, was charged on the information of Sergeant Geddes with infringing his license on Sunday the 13th inst. by unlawfully opening his house for the sale of beer at ten minutes to midnight. To pay the costs.

From the Dover Express and East Kent Intelligencer, 27 January, 1866.

MALICIOUS DAMAGE

John Foord, a labouring man having the appearance of a bricklayer, out of employ, was charged with maliciously breaking a square of plate glass, value £3, at the "Princess Alice Inn," Snargate Street, on the previous Saturday night.

Elily Gilles said she was servant to Mr. William Henry Styles, landlord of the "Princess Alice" public-house, in Snargate Street. The prisoner came down Snargate Street about eleven o'clock on Saturday night, and. deliberately picking up a stone, shied it through the window. She asked him why he had broken the window, and he replied, "To get a night's lodging; I have been begging for two hours, and have not been able to get anything." It was a plate glass window, and worth £3.

The defendant had no questions to ask the witness and all he had t say in his defence was that he was in drink, being "well on," in his own phrase, at the time he did it.

The Magistrates said they supposed he could not pay the damage he had committed?

Defendant said he could not.

Sir Luke Smithett: Then you must suffer in another way. You are fined 1s., the amount of the damage (£3), and the costs 6s. In default, you will go to prison for a month, with hard labour.

From the Dover Express and East Kent Intelligencer, 15 September, 1871. Price 1d.

ROBBING A WORKMAN OF HIS TOOLS

Alfred Moat, a seaman, was charged with stealing from the premises of the “Princess Alice” public-house, Snargate Street, on the previous day, a plane, a chisel, a square, and a pair of pincers, value 5s., the property of William Caister.

Sarah Palmer, residing in Snargate Street, said: My husband, Henry Palmer, is the landlord of the “Princess Alice” public-house. Yesterday afternoon, between twelve and one, the prisoner was at my house. I had a carpenter work on the premises, and he had been using the tools produced, which he had with him in a bag. I heard the prisoner doing something, and on going to see I found him at the carpenter's basket. I went away fro a few minutes, and, as I found him there on returning, I called my husband. My husband came and met the prisoner in the passage, when he stopped him. He asked him what he had been doing at the workman's basket. I did not hear the prisoner's answer. My husband endeavoured to detain him, whereupon the prisoner attempted to strike him, and broke three glasses, which were standing on the bar. He then ran away from the house, and my husband followed him.

Henry Palmer, the landlord of the “Princess Alice,” said: A carpenter named Henry Caister, was at work in my house yesterday. In consequence of something my wife said to me I went to look after the prisoner, and I met him in the passage. I asked him what he had been doing with the carpenter's tools, and he said, “Nothing.” I then asked him if he had any of the tools, and he said. “No.” I thought that he might have some in his pockets, so I felt them, and they seemed to me to have something in them. The prisoner thereupon tried to strike me, and he knocked three glasses off the bar, breaking them. He then ran out of the house, down the street, and I followed him until I saw a constable , when I gave him into custody.
By the prisoner: You did not offer to give me any of the tools.

Police-sergeant James Johnstone said: Yesterday morning, about half-past twelve, I was on duty in Snargate Street and I met the prisoner. He was running down the street and Mr. Palmer was running after him, crying, “Stop thief.” I stopped him, and Mr. palmer gave him into my charge for stealing some carpenter's tools. The prisoner said he had no tools about him; but on his being searched tat the police-station the plane, the square, the pair of pincers, and the chisel produced were found in the shirt pocket of his coat. The charge was read over him by the Superintendent, and he made no reply to it. The prisoner offered a great deal of resistance on the way to the Police-station, and in order to handcuff him I was obliged to obtain the assistance of another man, whom the prisoner kicked, causing him to fall down.

William Caister, the prosecutor, said: I am a carpenter. I was at work at Mr. Palmer's house in Snargate Street yesterday. I had a basket of tools with me. The tools produced are the same, and they are my property. They were in the basket which I left behind me when I went to dinner. The value of them is 5s.

The prisoner desired to have the case dealt with summarily, and, in answer to the charge, pleaded “guilty.”

Superintendent Coram said that the prisoner had been before the Magistrates on one previous occasion, for an assault on the police; but never before for felony.

The Magistrates told the prisoner that he had pleaded guilty to a very aggravated offence, rendering him liable to three months' imprisonment, with hard labour. To rob a man of his tools with which he earned his daily living was a cruel offence, and could not be passed over lightly. He would have two months' imprisonment, with hard labour.

The prisoner pleaded that he was drunk when he stole the tools.

The Magistrates considered that circumstance, supposing it to be true, no excuse, and refused to mitigate their sentence.

From the Dover Express and East Kent Intelligencer, 9 February, 1872. Price 1d.

TRANSFER

Mr. Coleman applied for the "Princess Alice" public-house to be transferred from the present licensee, Henry Palmer, who was going to leave the town, to Henry Thomas Allen.

There being nothing against the house, the application was granted.

From the Dover Express and East Kent News, Friday 14 November, 1873.

LICENSING BUSINESS

Mr. Thomas Fox appeared to apply on behalf of Mr. Alfred Pope, that the license of the “Princess Alice” might be transferred to him. Mr. Pope had kept a licensed house at Folkestone for some time, and could produce excellent testimonials.

Mr. Stillwell said his attention had been drawn to a police report in a Folkestone paper, from which it appeared that the wife and a woman staying at applicant's house had been convicted of drunkenness and misconduct by the Folkestone Bench, on the 8th of July last.

Pope said it was merely a family quarrel about some flowers.

Superintendent Sanders said he had been informed that defendant had conducted his house well of late.

Mr. Fox said he did no think that any venial offence on the part of defendant's wife would deter the Bench from granting the application.

The application was granted.

Dover Express 02 October 1874.

A HUSBAND IN DISTRESS.

A man named Charles Nichols, formerly landlord of the "Princess Alice," applied to the bench for advice. A little while ago his spouse sold the furniture and had been living on the proceeds. She had now returned to him. Was he obliged to maintain her?

The bench said of course they sympathised with Nichols, but they could not help him in the matter.

From the Dover Express and East Kent Intelligencer, 18 December, 1874. Price 1d.

TRANSFER

John Berac, who produced a discharge-paper from the Army, date a considerable time since, applied for the license of the "Princess Alice" to be transferred to him.

The Bench declined to act without a more recent testimonial.

From the Dover Express and East Kent Intelligencer, 17 March, 1882. Price 1d.

INFRINGING THE LICENSING ACT

Theodore Henry Nave, landlord of the “Princess Alice,” Snargate Street, was charged with allowing drunkenness on his premises.

Superintendent Sanders said: On Sunday evening at eight o'clock I was in Snargate Street, when I saw two seamen drunk refused admittance to the “Duke of York,” and were afterwards refused at two other public-houses. They then went to the “Princess Alice,” kept by the defendant and were admitted. Ten minutes later I went with Police-sergeant Harman to the house. The two sailors were in front of the bar, very drunk, with two pints of beer before them. The bar was full of soldiers and civilians. The landlady was behind the bar. I went in the back room and sent for her to some to me. I asked her why she had served the two sailors, and called her attention to their drunken condition. I received no reply, but while talking to her I found that she was quite as drunk as the sailors, as she fell down in the corner of the room. The sergeant picked her up, and we found that she could not stand. I asked her where the landlord was, and she said that he had gone for a walk. I then asked one of the customers where the defendant was, and he said that he had gone to bed. Five minutes later the landlord came down, and he was also drunk. It was the time of leaving church. I cleared the house, put out the gas, and shut the door up, and sent for a relation of the defendant, who came and took charge of the house.

The bench fined the defendant the full penalty of £10 and costs 8s. 6d. which amount was not then forthcoming. The license was ordered to be endorsed.

From the Dover Express and East Kent Intelligencer, 8 September, 1882. Price 1d.

THE LANDLORD WHO LOVED HIS OWN LIQUOR

The Superintendent of Police said he had a complaint to make against H. T. Nave, the landlord of the “Princess Alice,” Snargate Street, first on the ground that he had been fined £10 and costs on the 17th of March last for permitting drunkenness in his house, and secondly that he was not a fit person to keep a public-house. In support of the charge Superintendent Sanders said that on the 17th of March, being Sunday night, he went into the house, and found drunken persons in front of the bar, and the landlord's wife was serving them. He went into the back room, and called the landlady, but she was so drunk that before she could get to him she fell down. He asked for the landlord and learned that he was in bed, drunk. There was so much drunkenness in the house that he cleared it, and kept possession of the house until a relative of the man came in to take charge of it. He had previously seen the man drunk, and when the licence was granted to him it was ascertained that owing to drinking he had determined to commit suicide, but he for some time after that led a sober life it was thought that they might trust him. It appeared now, however, that he was not a fit man to keep a public house.

Mr. Worsfold Mowll pleaded that the magistrates would not inflict on the man the great pecuniary line of refusing the licence, which was worth £200 or £300. The man would undertake not to open the house himself, and let the licence be taken out in the name of the property agent, Mr. Hayward, and the house would be closed until a suitable tenant was found.

The Magistrates agreed to that.

From the Dover Express and East Kent News, Friday, 8 April, 1887. Price 1d.

MITCHELL v. WATKIN

The defendant in this case was the landlord of the “Princess Alice,” Snargate Street. He was indebted to the Dover Brewery Company. The claim was for the board of a child.

Mr. Martyn Mowll appeared for the plaintiff.

No order was made.

From the Dover Express and East Kent News, Friday, 3 May, 1889. Price 1d.

ABDUCTION AT DOVER

At the Dover Police Court on Wednesday, James Forbes, of no fixed residence, was charged with enticing Bessie Elwin Chard, aged 10 years and 9 months, from her home, 37 High Street, with intent to deprive her father of her services.

Mr. Gabriel Chard said: I am a furniture dealer carrying out business at 37, High Street. I have known the prisoner about three years; when I first became acquainted with him I kept the “Princess Alice Inn,” Snargate Street. He was then a private in the Middlesex Regiment stationed here in Dover, and he used to frequent my house then. His regiment went away nearly three years ago, and he went with it, and I have not seen him since Monday evening last. He came to my house on Monday afternoon, but I was out then, and he promised to call again in the evening. He came again about half past seven; a little conversation was started when he came in about where he had been to, and how long he had left the army, and he said he represented the firm of Peter Robinson, in Regent Street, London, as a commission agent to sell bankrupt goods. I asked him what business he had come down this way, and he said he had business in Shepheredwell, and had some goods to show, but I did not see them as he had not got them in the shop. I asked him into the room and he sat down and had a cup of tea. My wife and two of the girls – Bessie Elwin, aged 10 years and 9 months, and Florence, between 12 and 13 years of age – were present. He talked and played with the children, and went out and bought some sweets and I gave them to them. He stayed till about 10 o'clock. He said he had to got to Shepherdswell the next day, and expected to be back between four and six o'clock, and I told him if he should come back to come and have a cup of tea with us. He called back again about half past six on Tuesday, and my wife made him a cup of tea – he did not have his tea with us, as we had had out tea. He came into the room, and the children were there then; and he stayed till about eight o'clock, talking about the toys he had bought them when he was a soldier. He began by saying he should like to give the children something before he left, as he expected to return to London the following day, but he said it depended upon the replies he had from his employers in London. He said he had seen a locket and chain in the town – I understood him to say Snargate Street, but he would not buy it, thinking my daughter would not like it after he had bought it. He gave Florence a purse on Monday evening. He asked my wife and me if we had any objection to Bessie going with him to select what she would like out of the shop down the street, and promised to return in about twenty minutes. I said I had no objection so long as he did not keep her out over that time, as it was her bed-time; and he promised he would not exceed that time. The child put on her hat, and the prisoner advised her to put on her jacket, as it was cold, and she did so. Finding they did not return, in about half an hour I sent Florence down the street to see if she could find them, and as my eldest daughter did not return I put on my hat and coat and went down the street, and in the Market Square I found my eldest daughter and sent her home. I looked in most places I thought it possible she might be. After looking in all the houses in the Lanes and round the Market Square, I went to the Grand Shaft, and called there to see if they were there. I then went to the Harbour and South eastern stations, and afterwards to the Soldiers' Institute, where he had slept the previous evening. I returned home about eleven o'clock and gave information to the Police. I had been home once or twice to see if they had come back. Acting on the advice of the Police I walked to Folkestone about four o'clock, and there met Police-constable Knott. I went with a sergeant of the Folkestone Police to all the lodging houses. We went to the “Edinburgh Castle Coffee House” in Tontine Street, and ascertained that the prisoner and my child were there. I remained at the coffee tavern, while the Police sergeant went away and Police-constable Knott came to me. The manager went up to the prisoner and told him that he was wanted, and he sent word that he should be down presently. About twenty minutes afterwards he came down, leaving the child upstairs. The manager told me he was down, and I asked him what he meant by taking away the child. The prisoner said he was very sorry, and asked me to look over it, if I could, and not get him into trouble; and I told him the matter was in the hands of the Police. He said something about being on the drink when he took the child. He was not drunk last night at my house. On the way to the Folkestone railway station he said “This is a bad job, but it might have been worse,” and I said “What do you mean?” He said “I might have taken her up town,” or to London – I forget which. Continuing, prisoner said “God knows what might have become of her.” He asked me two or three times to look over it. He was brought here to the Police station.

Prisoner: Were not the words I said “It's a good job, in the state I was in, that I did not take the girl to London, where she might have been lost?” – Mr. Chard.

No.

Prisoner: Was I not favoured at your house, and you knew me to be a heavy drinker?

Yes, at times.

Prisoner: Do you really believe that I intended to keep her?

Yes, I do positively.

What reason do you have for thinking so?

By your contradicting yourself. I think you took my daughter Bessie out once when you were a soldier in uniform three years ago.
The children always like your company, didn't they?

Yes.

And did I not tell you my reason for taking Bessie out was to but her a present, as I had given the other girl a purse the previous night?

Yes. You had nothing to drink at my house, and you were quite sober when you left it.

Didn't I appear to have been drinking?

No, I didn't notice it.

Bessie Elwin Chard said: I live with my father and mother at 37, High Street. I am eleven years old in July. I remember a soldier coming when my father kept a public house and bringing me presents. I should not have known this was the man without being told. He came to our house last Monday and had some tea, and got talking and laughing with me and my sister. I think he gave my sister a purse, but he did not give me anything that night. He came again the next day, Tuesday, and had tea. My father and mother and sister and myself were there, and he laughed and talked again with us till he went. He bought us some sweets when he went out on Monday evening. He said he had seen a locket and chain in a shop window, and should very much like to give it to me, and I told him I should like to have it, but he said it was not big enough. He asked my father and mother if I could go out with him for about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes to buy something. Mother said she did not object to it, and I put on my hat. The prisoner told me to put on my jacket, as it was cold, and I did so. We left the house together, and went down the street as far as the “Prince Albert Inn,” into which we went, and the prisoner had a glass of beer. We then went down Snargate Street to the South Eastern station. He said he saw a beautiful thing in a shop at Sandgate, and that he would take me there. I said mother and father would be cross, but he said they would not – he would make that all right. He asked the porter at the station when the next train to Sandgate would go, and the porter told him at a quarter past ten. It was either twenty minutes past nine or twenty minutes to ten by the railway clock when we got to the station. We went to a public house opposite, and prisoner had two half pints of ale and bought me a sponge cake. He took the tickets at the station for Shorncliffe – I heard him ask for one and a half tickets to Shorncliffe. We got out at Shorncliffe and walked to Folkestone. He went into a public house and asked whether they would let him have a bed, but he could not get a bed there. On the way from Shorncliffe to Folkestone the prisoner told me to say if I was asked that I was his daughter. We then met a Policeman, and he asked him if he could tell him where he could get a bed, and the Policeman told him an hotel – I don't know the name of it, but he said he could not get a bed there. We then met two men and asked them, and they told us the place where father found us. The prisoner asked for a room with two beds in it. He had a cup of tea, but did not give me any supper. I think it was a servant who showed us into the room. He pointed out to me which bed I was to sleep in, and he got into the other bed. I lay in bed awake some time, in the morning when it was light, the prisoner was still in bed I saw him get up and go down, and he said he was going to get a shave. The servant called me after he had gone down. When I got down I saw my father, and the prisoner was there then. I came home to Dover. When we were walking from Shorncliffe he said he would take me to London one day, and I said I did not think mother would let me go. He said he would take me to Sandgate this morning when he was in bed.

Cross-examined by the prisoner: Did you think I had been drinking a good deal?

Yes: I mean you had one glass of beer at the “Prince Albert” and two glasses of ale opposite the South Eastern station.

I did not say I wanted you to go with me, did I now?

No.

Did you have any fear that I was going to take you right away?

No, I had not.

The prisoner was remanded till today (Friday).

From the Dover Express and East Kent News, Friday, 5 July, 1889. Price 1d.

STEALING A CHILD

James Forbes, 46, was charged with taking away Bessie Elwin Chard, a child of 10 years and 9 months, with the intent to deprive the father of the custody of the said child.

The prisoner pleaded “Not Guilty.”

Mr. Croft appeared for the prosecution.

Gabriel Chard, the father of the child, carrying on business as a furniture dealer in High Street, said he formerly kept the “Princess Alice” public-house. When he was there, the prisoner, who was then in the Middlesex Regiment, made his acquaintance, and soon became an intimate friend of the family. The prisoner left the town with the regiment some years ago, and they lost sight of him until the 29th April. He then told them he was a traveller for peter Robinson, and he had been discharged from the Army some 15 or 18 months back. He made himself friendly with the two girls, Florence and Bessie. He was also invited to come to tea on the next day, Tuesday. He came in on Tuesday afternoon and had tea, and about eight o'clock he asked Bessie if she would like to have a locket and chain which he had seen in a window in Snargate Street. He obtained permission to take the girl out for about 20 minutes. As the girl put only her hat on to go out, he told her to put her jacket on, as the night was cold. As the child did not return the father sent her elder sister to look for her, and she not being able to find her he went out himself, and at length went to the Police station. In the morning he went over to Folkestone, and from enquiries made he discovered the prisoner at the “Edinburgh Castle Coffee Tavern.” He was met there by Police-constable Knott, and after visiting a little time the prisoner came down partially dressed, and having caught a glimpse of the Policeman he hurried back and finished dressing himself, and then came down again and tried to get out of a side door, but was stopped. Witness said, “What sort of business do you call this, taking away my child?” The prisoner said he was very sorry, and asked him to look it over, but he refused to do so. On coming down to the station prisoner said it was a good thing that he had not taken the child to London, as she might have got lost there.

Bessie Chard, the next witness, was the child who was stolen. She said she remembered the prisoner asking her on the 30th April to go with him to buy a locket and chain in Snargate Street. After leaving the house he went down the town. On the way down he went into two public-houses, and when they got to the South-Eastern Station he went into another. He told her at the station that he was going to take her to Sandgate, where he had seen a nice locket. They went to Shorncliffe by train, where the prisoner tried to get a night's lodging at a house, but not being successful they walked to Folkestone, and prisoner went to the Police station, where he was recommended to go to the “Edinburgh Castle.” He had previously told her to say that he was her father. On arriving at the house they found it was locked up. They were let in, and after a few questions had been asked they went to bed. They had at the suggestion of the wife of the landlord separate beds. She went to bed in her clothes.

Abel Howard, the landlord of the “Edinburgh Castle,” corroborated the evidence of the last witness. He did not think that the prisoner was unconscious of what he was doing.

Police-constable Knott was then called, and he corroborated the evidence of the father about what the prisoner said concerning the girl being taken to London. He found 6s. 9d. and a few odds and ends on the prisoner.

This closed the case for the prosecution.

The prisoner made a long statement in his defence, which took him over three-quarters of an hour to deliver. He pleaded that he was under the influence of drink, and had no knowledge of what he was about. He had to go to Sandgate on some business, and had mixed that up with the child, and had taken her there. When he was under the influence of drink he very often did not outwardly show it.
He called Mr. E. Brown, landlord of the “Grand Shaft Inn,” who said that the prisoner came into his house in the afternoon and had some whisky.

The Jury retired to considered the verdict, and in about five minutes returned a verdict of Guilty.

The Superintendent of the Police said that the prisoner had been discharged from the Army with ignominy in October, 1887, for theft and desertion. He had also been before that Court in 1880 for breaking into Mr. P. O. Potter's and stealing umbrellas. He was drunk at the time, and was acquitted. The man went out to India with the 77th Regiment, and returned in 1885. He could not find out what he had been doing since he left the Army.

The Recorder said that the case was an embarrassing one, because the section of the statute under which the prisoner is indicted and found guilty deals with offences of this kind as very serious. He had spoken privately to the father, and was satisfied from what he said that the child had not been molested in any way. In consequence of that he was disposed to treat the case as rather an exceptional one. According to the statute he could sentence the prisoner to seven years' penal servitude or two years' imprisonment. The prisoner had been in custody since the 3rd May, and he would be sentenced to four months' hard labour.

This concluded the business of the Sessions, and the Court rose at 1.30.