The Sun. — 1842-03-16 (London, England)

POLICE INTELLIGENCE.  BOW-STREET.-(TIIIS DAY.) A sturdy-looking man, named Rowell, whose appearance was decidedly foreign, was cha'ged with the following assault.— Thomas Helbourne, the complainant, a young man, who bore evident marks of ill-usage on his face and person, commenced— " I was a going through the cuurt and I meets Mr. Rowett— " Stop, atop," said Air. TWYFORD, " tell us first who you are, and what court you are alluding to ?" Complainant-I'm a labouring man, Sir, 20 years of age ; Rowett's a shoemaker ; its the court where he and me lives, Angel-court ; well, as I was going up the court I meets Mr. Rowett, he comes up to me and axes me what I had to do with his daughter, 1 told h m if his daughter bothered me I'd kick her ' • he ups with his fist, km,cks me down, and jumps on my belly, and bites a hole in my breast, which (unbuttoning his waistcoat, and exposing a broad hairy chest) I've got it here to show. Mr. TwvFown—Well, but have you had anything to say to his daughter ? Complainant—Why, about a fortnight ago I was a going through the street, and whenever I goes thro' the street this here gal tails arter me wherever I goes, and says, " There goes Irish Tom," vich I arnt no Irish at all. The gal she's about fourteen years of age. I told her if she did not take care, I'd kim k her.  The prisoner, who, we learnt from his speech was a Welshman, and had formerly been in the I.' division of police, said, " Tat is te trut ; I meet him last night, and I say what tat'tween you and my daughter tat Sou say you kirk her. He say, Yes, and I'll do to you te same.' He then struck me, and I hit him again in my own defence, and peing te strongest man, I knock him down, but not kick him a pile—pon my word and hnn-nare.  Mrs Mary Anne Sales, a comfortable-looking matron, "fat, fair, and forty-five," said she had gone to call upon Mrs. Gibbons, the lady where the poor young manlodged. She was up stairs in the first pair back, a partakin' of a very nice cup o' green tea and a muffin, with nice salt butter on it, when they heard screams and cries of " murder" proeceding from down below. Aim Gibbons says, " !suppose that's Rowett a beatin' his wife again ;" so we went down into the court, and there we see him, his two daughters, and his wife, all a ill-using the poor fellow, and his hair was standing all on end, " like quills upon the fretful porcupine." They call him Irish Tom, because he lodges with Irish people; but he arnt no Irish, he's a west of England lad. It's a dreadful thing, Sir, and worry cruel for the father of a family of children, to hit a young man of twenty years of age, and bite his chest. I'm the mother of a family myself, and I should not like to see one of my children used in that way, poor things. Mr. HALL imagining, we suppose, that Mrs. Sales had gone on quite long enough, here somewhat abruptly interrupted her by askiag the prisoner if he had anything more to say ? The prisoner slid he could say noting more, only that the last witness was not in a place at all to know nothing about it. If the Magistrate would look over it this time, such a thing should not occur again. Mr. Twvroan—You did not fight like an Englishman, in a fair way, but you must throw the complainant down, kick him, and kneel on his belly. I should have committed you for assaulting him in a brutal manner, if you had not expressed some penitence at the circumstance ; as it is, I shall fine you is., or commit you for seven days.—The fine was immediately paid.