Chapter III: Introduction (2)

This is a most revolting Murder. It appears Jane Williams was keeping company, and was shortly to be married to William Edwards, who was in the employment of Farmer Hodges. For some time a jealousy existed in John Hodges, who made vile proposals to the young girl, who although of poor parents was strictly virtuous. The girl’s father also worked on farmer Hodges’s estate. On Thursday last she was sent to the farm to obtain some things for her mother, who was ill; it was 9 o’clock in the evening when she set out, a mile from the farm. Going across the fields she was met by the farmer’s son, who made vile proposals to her, which she not consenting to, he threw her down, and accomplished his vile purpose. In the meantime her lover had been to her house, and finding she was gone to the farm, went to meet her. He found her in the field crying, and John Hodges standing over her with a bill-hook, saying he would kill her if she ever told. No one can tell the feelings of the lover, William Edwards. He rushed forward, when Hodges, with the hook, cut the legs clean from his body, and with it killed the poor girl, and then run off. Her father finding she did not return, went to look for her; when the awful deeds were discovered. Edwards was still alive, but died shortly afterwards from loss of blood, after giving his testimony to the magistrates. The farmer’s son was apprehended, and has been examined and committed to take his trial at the next Assizes.

Thousands of persons followed the unfortunate lovers to the grave, where they were buried together.

Copy of Verses.

Jane Williams had a lover true
And Edwards was his name,
Whose visits to her father’s house,
Had welcome now became.

In marriage soon they would be bound,
A loving man and wife,
But John Hodges, a farmer’s son,
With jealousy was rife.

One night he met her in the field,
And vile proposals made;
How can I do this wicked thing;
Young Jane then weeping said.

He quickly threw her on the ground,
He seized her by surprise,
And did accomplish his foul act,
Despite her tears and cries.

Her lover passing by that way,
Discovered her in tears,
And when he found what had been done
He pulled the monster’s ears.

Young Hodges with the bill-hook,
Then cut young Edwards down:
And by one fatal blow he felled
Jane Williams on the ground.

There side by side the lovers lay
Weltering in their blood:
Young Jane was dead, her lover lived,
Though ebb’d away life’s flood.

Old Williams sought his daughter dear,
When awful to relate,
He found her lifeless body there,
Her lover’s dreadful fate.

Now in one grave they both do lie,
These lovers firm and true,
Who by a cruel man were slain,
Who’ll soon receive his due.

In prison now he is confined,
To answer for the crime.
Two lovers that he murdered,
Cut off when in their prime.

J. Catnach, Printer, Monmouth Court.

FULL PARTICULARS OF THIS DREADFUL MURDER.

A scene of bloodshed of the deepest dye has been committed in this neighbourhood, which has caused a painful and alarming sensation among all classes in this place, in consequence of its being committed by an individual that is well known to most of the inhabitants who are going in great numbers to the fatal spot where the unfortunate and ill-fated victim has met with this melancholy and dreadful end.

On the news arriving at our office, we at once dispatched our reporter to the spot, and on his arrival he found the place surrounded by men, women, and children, gathered around where the vital spark had fled, which was never to be regained on the face of this earth. Deep was the conversation among the accumulated persons, as to how a fellow creature could be guilty of committing such a revolting and diabolical act upon one, who, it appears, was much respected in this neighbourhood.

The reporter states that on the police authorities arriving at the place, they had some difficulty in preserving order; but after a short lapse of time this was accomplished. They then proceeded to the spot where the lifeless corpse laid, and took possession of the same, and which presented one of the most awful spectacles that has been witnessed for many years.

What could have been the motive for such a cold-blooded and wanton murder being committed we are at a loss to conceive; without it was in consequence of some disagreement having taken place between the unfortunate victims and their assailants, and then ending in the depriving their fellow-creatures of life, which we are forbidden, according to the commandments, to take away; but this seems to be entirely violated in many instances by our dissipated and irregular habits which tends to the committal of such serious things, and through disobeying the scriptural advice brings the degraded creatures to an untimely end. According to the Scriptures, “He that sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed,” which we entirely agree with in these instances, and fully acknowledge the just sentence that is often obliged to be carried into effect; and certainly must say, that were it not for the rigidness of those laws, many of us would not be able to proceed on our journey at heart. So, therefore, we are in duty bound to call upon those laws being fully acted up to, for it is our opinion that those crimes are very seldom committed without there is some disregard or ill feeling towards their unfortunate victims, and thereby end their days in a dreadful manner.

The unfortunate persons being so well known and so much respected, every one feels anxious to know all particulars, and it is the constant enquiry amongst them to know if there is any one apprehended for the murder, or if there is anything more known as to lead to the suspicion who it has been committed by, all being very desirous to hear of the perpetrators of this diabolical and horrid deed. We feel much for the family, who are thrown into the greatest affliction through this dreadful circumstance, and which has cast a gloom over the circle of friends in which they moved.

As a member of society, there will be no one that we know of who will be more missed; one who was often known to relieve the wants of his fellow creatures as far as his circumstances would permit, and whose society was courted by all. As a member, of the family to which they belonged, none will be more deeply regretted, but those who are now remaining will feel the loss and deplore the lamentable death of their respected and worthy friends.--Just as we are going to press, we have received information from our reporter, that something has been elicited from a party that has thrown a light on this subject, and which has led to the apprehension of one of the principal offenders, and who, if proved guilty, will, we hope, meet with that punishment due to his fearful crime.

London: J. Lucksway, Printer and Publisher, High Street, Westminster.

THE COMMITTAL OF W. THOMPSON,

To the County Gaol at Oxford for the

MURDER OF HIS WIFE AND THREE CHILDREN,

On the 12th instant.

This morning, the 12th inst., the neighbourhood of Queen-st., Banbury, was thrown into a state of excitement at hearing the cries of murder between the hours of 12 and 1, at the house of Wm. Thompson. Several of the neighbours arose from their beds and knocked at, and tried the door, but all was silent, when Sarah Cope said, some efforts must be made to enter, and two Policemen were quickly on the spot, and about 2 o’clock they forced the door open, when a most awful sight presented itself. The wife lay weltering in her blood and with her head literally knocked to pieces, and the prisoner, who was drunk, was quickly apprehended. Up stairs the two youngest were found lying in a pool of blood on the chamber floor, and the eldest boy, Thomas, four years old, was found a lifeless corpse on the bed, and the clothes covered with blood.

Two surgeons pronounced life to be extinct. An inquest was held at the Blue Boar, and after a post-mortem examination of the bodies, and the whole of the Evidence heard by the Jury, a Verdict of Wilful Murder was returned against William Thompson.

The Prisoner was calm during the whole of the proceedings, and did not attempt to deny his guilt. Since his committal he has made the following Confession.

THE CONFESSION.

On the 12th ultimo, I left my wife and family and went to the house of Sarah Potts, and during the day when we were drinking, she asked me to leave my family and live with her; I gave her no decisive answer at that time. At midnight I returned home and found my wife and children were gone to bed, but she got up and let me in without speaking an angry word; but I got hold of an iron bar and struck her a fatal blow on the head, and repeated the blows until she was dead. I then proceeded to the bed-room, where the children were. My eldest son, Thomas, four years of age, begged for mercy, but I was deaf to his cries and tears; I then raised the bar of iron and struck him three times on the head; the two youngest are twins, I beat their heads against the chamber floor, and I hope the Lord will forgive me.

A COPY OF VERSES.

All you that have got feeling hearts, I pray you now attend,
To these few lines so sad and true, a solemn silence lend,
It is of a cruel murder, to you I will unfold--
The bare recital of the tale, must make your blood run cold.

’Twas in the town of Banbury, all in fair Oxfordshire,
One William Thomson did reside, by trade a Carpenter,
He had a kind and loving wife, likewise three children dear,
Who victims fell unto his rage, as shortly you may hear,

The one it was a little boy, just turned two years old,
The other two were lovely boys, the truth I now unfold,
Long time he kept his family, in credit and renown,
Until he was led astray, by a woman on the town--

One Sarah Potts it was her name, who first did him betray,
And from his wife and children, caused him to go astray,
At rest from her he ne’er could be, by day nor yet by night,
Until her false deluding tongue, had proved his ruin quite.

It was on the 12th day of the month, unto her house he went
A drinking, for to spend the day, it was his chief intent;
She says, come leave your house and home, your family also,
And to some other country, along with you I’ll go.

About the hour of twelve at noon, he homeward did repair,
And found his poor deluded wife, waiting his love to share--
One angry word she never spoke, though he unkind had been
But with the meekness of a lamb, she rose to let him in.

Soon as the house he entered, he straightway locked the door,
Soon seized upon an iron bar, and threw her on the floor;
With which he beat her on the head, as she lay on the ground,
Her brains most awful for to view, lay scattered all around.

Oh then he seized those lovly twins, whilst sleeping on the bed,
Now with your mother you shall die, the wretched father said--
He seized them by their little legs, and dashed them on the floor,
And soon their tender lives were gone, alas! to be no more.

The eldest child seeing what was done, upon his knees did rise,
And loud for mercy he did call, whilst tears were in his eyes--
Oh, Dadda dear, oh, Dadda dear, and asked me for a kiss,
Why are you going to murder me, what have I done amiss?

Again for mercy he did plead whilst pearly tears did fall,
The cruel father’s hardened heart, was deaf unto his call--
Again took up the iron bar, and beat him on the head,
And soon the blood of the dear boy, was spilt upon the bed.

It was early the next morning, before the break of day,
He by Policemen taken was, and to prison sent straightway,
Where till the Assizes he must lie, his trial for to stand,
When blood for blood will be required, by the laws of God and man.

[Smith, Printer, High Street, London.

A REMARKABLE PUNISHMENT OF MURDER.

The following melancholy account was given by a very worthy man, Mr. Thomas Marshall, a Church warden well-known and respected by all.

Some years ago, a young gentleman and lady came out of Scotland, as is supposed, upon a matrimonial affair. As they were travelling through the country, they were robbed and murdered, at a place called the Winnetts, near Castleton. Their bones were found about two years ago, by some miners who were sinking an Engine-pit at the place.

One James Ashton, of Castleton, who died about a fortnight ago, and who was one of the murderers, was most miserably afflicted and tormented in his conscience. He had been dying, it was thought, for ten weeks; but could not die till he had confessed the whole affair. But when he had done this, he died immediately.

He said, Nicholas Cock, Thomas Hall, John Bradshaw, Francis Butler, and himself, meeting the above gentleman and lady in the Winnets, pulled them off their horses, and dragged them into a barn belonging to one of them, and took from them two hundred pounds. Then seizing on the young gentleman, the young lady (whom Ashton said was the fairest woman he ever saw) entreated them, in the most piteous manner, not to kill him, as she was the cause of his coming into that country. But, notwithstanding all her intreaties, they cut his throat from ear to ear! They then seized the young lady herself, and, though she entreated them, on her knees, to spare her life, and turn her out naked! yet one of the wretches drove a Miner’s pick into her head, when she dropped down dead at his feet. Having thus dispatched them both, they left their bodies in the barn, and went away with their booty.

At night they returned to the barn, in order to take them away; but they were so terrified with a frightful noise that they durst not move them: and so it was the second night. But the third night, Ashton said it was only the Devil, who would not hurt him; so they took the bodies away and buried them.

They then divided the money: and as Ashton was a coal carrier to a Smelt Mill, on the Sheffield Road, he bought horses with his share; but they all died in a little time. Nicholas Cock fell from a precipice, near the place where they had committed the murder, and was killed. Thomas Hall hanged himself. John Bradshaw was walking near the place where they had buried the bodies, when a stone fell from the hill and killed him on the spot, to the astonishment of every one who knew it. Francis Butler, attempted many times to hang himself, but was prevented; however, he went mad, and died in a most miserable manner.

Thus, though they escaped the hand of human justice (which seldom happens in such a case), yet the Invisible Hand found them out, even in this world. How true then it is, that He art about our path, and about our bed, and spiest out all our ways!

Evans, Printer, Long Lane.

THE LIFE, TRIAL, CHARACTER, AND CONFESSION OF The Man that was Hanged IN FRONT OF NEWGATE, AND WHO IS NOW ALIVE!

WITH FULL PARTICULARS OF THE RESUSCITATED.

“There are but two classes of persons in the world--those who are hanged, and those who are not hanged; and it has been my lot to belong to the former.”

There are few men, perhaps, who have not a hundred times in the course of their life, felt a curiosity to know what their sensations would be if they were compelled to lay life down. The very impossibility, in all ordinary cases, of obtaining any approach to this knowledge, is an incessant spur pressing on the fancy in its endeavours to arrive at it. Thus poets and painters have ever made the estate of a man condemned to die one of their favourite themes of comment or description. Footboys and prentices hang themselves almost every other day, conclusively--missing their arrangement for slipping the knot half way--out of a seeming instinct to try the secrets of that fate, which--less in jest than in earnest--they feel an inward monition may become their own. And thousand of men, in early life, are uneasy until they have mounted a breach, or fought a duel, merely because they wish to know, experimentally, that their nerves are capable of carrying them through that peculiar ordeal.

Now _I_ am in a situation to speak from experience, upon that very interesting question--the sensations attendant upon a passage from life to death. I have been HANGED, and am ALIVE--perhaps there are no three other men at this moment, in Europe, who can make the same declaration.

Before this statement meets the public eye, I shall have quitted England for ever; therefore I have no advantage to gain from its publication. And, for the vanity of knowing, when I shall be a sojourner in a far country, that my name--for good or ill--is talked about in this,--such fame would scarcely do even my pride much good, when I dare not lay claim to its identity, But the cause which excites me to write is this--My greatest pleasure, through life, has been the perusal of any extraordinary narratives of fact. An account of a shipwreck in which hundreds have perished; of a plague which has depopulated towns or cities; anecdotes and inquiries connected with the regulations of prisons, hospitals, or lunatic receptacles; nay, the very police reports of a common newspaper--as relative to matters of reality, have always excited a degree of interest in my mind, which cannot be produced by the best-invented tale of fiction. Because I believe, therefore, that to persons of a temper like my own, the reading of that which I have to relate will afford very high gratification;--and because I know also, that what I describe can do mischief to no one, while it may prevent the symptoms and details of a very rare consummation from being lost; for these reasons I am desirous, as far as a very limited education will permit me, to write a plain history of the strange fortunes and miseries to which, during the last twelve months, I have been subjected.

I have stated already, that I have _been_ hanged and _am_ alive. I can gain nothing now by misrepresentation--I was GUILTY of the act for which I suffered. There are individuals of respectability whom my conduct already has disgraced, and I will not revive their shame and grief by publishing my name. But it stands in the list of capital convictions in the Old Bailey Calendar for the Winter Sessions of 18--

Hodges, Printer (from the late J. Pitt’s) Wholesale Toy Warehouse, 31, Dudley Street, 7 Dials.

THE LIVERPOOL TRAGEDY.

Showing how a Father and Mother barbarously Murdered their own Son.

A few days ago a sea-faring man, who had just returned to England after an absence of thirty years in the East Indies, called at a lodging-house, in Liverpool, for sailors, and asked for supper and a bed; the landlord and landlady were elderly people, and apparently poor. The young man entered into conversation with them, invited them to partake of his cheer, asked many questions about themselves and their family, and particularly of a son who had gone to sea when a boy, and whom they had long given over as dead. At night the landlady shewed him to his room, and when she was leaving him he put a large purse of gold into her hand, and desired her to take care of it till the morning, pressed her affectionately by the hand, and bade her good night. She returned to her husband and shewed him the accursed gold: for its sake they mutually agreed to murder the traveller in his sleep.

In the dead of the night, when all was still, the old couple silently creaped into the bed room of their sleeping guest, all was quiet: the landlady approached the bedside, and then cut his throat, severed his head from his body; the old man, upwards of seventy years of age, holding the candle. They put a washing-tub under the bed to catch his blood. And then ransacking the boxes of the murdered man they found more gold, and many handsome and costly articles, the produce of the East Indies, together, with what proved afterwards, to be a marriage certificate.

In the morning, early, came a handsome and elegantly dressed lady and asked, in a joyous tone, for the traveller who had arrived the night before. The old people seemed greatly confused, but said he had risen early and gone away. “Impossible!” said the lady, and bid them go to his bed-room and seek him, adding, “you will be sure to know him as he has a mole on his left arm in the shape of a strawberry. Besides, ’tis your long lost son who has just returned from the East Indies, and I am his wife, and the daughter of a rich planter long settled and very wealthy. Your son has come to make you both happy in the evening of your days, and he resolved to lodge with you one night as a stranger, that he might see you unknown, and judge of your conduct to wayfaring mariners.”

The old couple went up stairs to examine the corpse, and they found the strawberry mark on its arm, and they then knew that they had murdered their own son, they were seized with horror, and each taking a loaded pistol blew out each other’s brains.

Printed by J. Catnach,--Sold by Marshall Bristol. Just Published--A Variety of Children’s Books, Battledores, Lotteries, and a quantity of popular Songs, set to Music. Cards, &c., Printed cheap.

THE MASSACRE OF THE WHOLE OF THE PASSENGERS AND PART OF THE CREW OF THE SEA HORSE,

On her Homeward Passage from Sydney, and the Plunder of 18,000 ounces of Gold by the Murderers.

We have just received intelligence of one of the most daring cases of plunder and wholesale murder on the high seas that it is our duty to make public for many years. It appears that the crew and thirteen passengers of the ill-fated ship, the Sea Horse, some of whom had been seeking to better their condition by toiling at the diggings of Ballarat, Bendigo, and the several numerous diggings of the surrounding country, whilst others had gained a respectable position in life by mercantile and other pursuits, all returning light-hearted and elated by their good success to the land of their birth, and to look on the dear faces, and gladden the hearts of the dear ones they had left at home, but whom they were doomed never to meet no more on earth. Among the crew was a Spaniard known by the name of Digo Salvesata, and three others, who were tempted by a love of gold to gain possession of the valuable cargo, to do which, they conceived the horrid idea of putting the whole of the passengers and that part of the crew who would not join them to death. The following are the facts of this demon-like outrage:--It appears that the Sarah Ann, of North Shields, on her passage home, was driven by the gales into the German ocean, and it was in sight of the white cliffs of Old England that these horrible murders were committed. As the Sarah Ann was laying at anchor on the morning of the 12th, at day break they saw through the fog the ill-fated vessel, and not seeing any one on deck they hailed her, and on receiving no answer a boat was immediately lowered, and they went on board, and on getting below a shocking sight met their gaze, with one exception the whole of the passengers and the remainder of the crew were in their berths stiff and cold, with their throats cut, and otherwise dreadfully disfigured. One poor man had a piece of dirty sheet tied tightly round his throat, and about eight inches of it stuffed tightly into his mouth. On this being removed, there was a large wound in the throat four inches in extent from right to left; there were five incisors on the right side ending in one deep one on the left. The windpipe was cut through and the muscles of the neck on the left side; the forehead was contused and scratched. The hair was covered with blood. On the back part of the right hand there were several scratches. Most of the victims were more or less mutilated. On going to the Captain’s cabin another shocking sight presented itself, he was laying completely hacked to pieces, his tongue was completely cut out at the root, and his entrails strewed on the cabin floor, showing that there had been a terrible struggle; it appears from the statement of a man who had stowed in the hold to escape the slaughter, that the second mate, who is one of the murderers, treated the passengers and the rest of the crew with some grog in which some laudnum was mixed, which rendered them senseless, and while in that helpless state murdered them in the manner described, they afterwards went to the Captain’s cabin, who fought bravely but was overpowered by numbers, they then took all the gold they could find and lowered the long boat and made off with their ill-gotten gains. The tiller of the boat has been found, so whether they have escaped and sent the boat adrift is not known, but search is being made after the murderers, and we hope they will soon be taken, and meet with their just reward.

COPY OF VERSES.

You landsmen and you seamen bold,
Attention give to me,
While I a tragedy unfold,
Upon the briney sea;
In the German ocean it occurred,
Near the sight of land,
Twenty-eight fell victims
To the cursed murderers hands.

The Sea Horse it from Sydney sailed,
Bound for Old England’s shore,
With crew and thirteen passengers,
Whose fate we now deplore;
Returning home with hard earned gold,
Across the briney main,
But alas! the ones they loved at home,
They ne’er will see again.

Four of the crew they laid a plan,
The passengers to slay,
And with the gold they dearly earnt,
O’er the seas to bear away;
These murderers were led away,
All by their thirst for gold,
And their victims they did cruelly slay,
Most shocking to unfold.

In some grog they mixed some laudanum
And soon they fell asleep.
And then these wretched monsters
To their victim’s berths did creep;
Then to the Captain’s cabin,
Intent on blood did steer,
And mangled his poor body,
How dreadful for to hear.

The Sarah Ann from North Shields,
As by the facts appear,
Saw the poor ill-fated ship,
And boarded it we hear;
And found the gory victims--
How shocking for to read,
May the murderers soon be taken
And suffer for their deeds.

Walton, Printer, Mary Street, Limehouse.

FULL PARTICULARS OF THE HORRIBLE & DREADFUL GREAT FIRE IN LONDON.

[Few public calamities recorded in our annals can bear a comparison, in point of distress, with the tremendous conflagration which reduced the greater part of the British metropolis to ashes, in the 1666. Of this dire catastrophe, all our histories give a general, and some of them a detailed, account; but no relation hitherto published is so minutely descriptive as that written at the time, and as it were on the smoking embers of the city, by the ingenious John Evelyn; from whose memoirs we have therefore extracted the whole narration.]

September 2. This fatal night about ten began that deplorable fire near Fish Street, in London.

Sept. 3. The fire continuing, after dinner I took coach, with my wife and son, and went to the bank side in Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful flames near the waterside; all the houses from the bridge, all Thames street, and upwards towards Cheapside down to the Three Cranes, were now consumed.

The fire having continued all this night (if I may call that night which was light as day for ten miles round about, after a dreadful manner), when conspiring with a fierce eastern wind in a very dry season; I went on foot to the same place, and saw the whole south part of the city burning from Cheapside to the Thames, and all along Cornhill (for it kindled back against the wind as well as forward) Tower street, Fenchurch street, Gracious street, and so along to Bainard’s Castle, and was now taking hold of St. Paul’s Church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that from the beginning, I know not by what despondency or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it, so that there was nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures, without attempting to save even their goods, such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned both in breadth and length, the Churches, Public Halls, Exchange, Hospitals, Monuments, and ornaments, leaping after a prodigious manner from house to house and street to street, at great distances one from the other, for the heat with a long set of fair and warm weather had even ignited the air and prepared the materials to receive the fire, which devoured after a most incredible manner, houses, furniture, and every thing. Here we saw the Thames covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on the other, the carts, &c., carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strewed with moveables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as haply the world had not seen the like since the foundation of it, nor to be outdone till the universal conflagration. All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, the light seen above forty miles round about for many nights. God grant my eyes may never behold the like, now seeing above ten thousand houses all in one flame; the noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches, was like a hideous storm, and the air all about so hot and inflamed that at last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forced to stand still and let the flames burn on, which they did for near two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds of smoke were dismal and reached upon computation near fifty miles in length. Thus I left it this afternoon burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or the last day--London was, but is no more!

H. Jones, Printer, Smith Street, London.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE FATAL THUNDERSTORM,

Which happened in these parts, and the

SINGULAR DREAM OF A YOUNG MAN,

Well known in this Neighbourhood.

On the first day of this month there was a dreadful storm of thunder and lightning in these parts. Its most fatal effects occurred about three miles from this town. There was a young shepherd, about twenty-three years of age, who had always entertained a remarkable dread of such storms; on that day, as it began to grow cloudy, his mother would have dissuaded him from going out, but he said he must go, as certain of his sheep absolutely required his attendance. This was agreeable to a tenderness of temper which, from his childhood, had been remarkable in his character. Quickly after he got into the fields, the storm arose; he was then in an open valley of greensward, and upon the neighbouring land there were two places of shelter equally distant; the one a stack of beans where some men were employed in thrashing, the other a rick of hay where nobody was. Humanly speaking, his life depended upon the choice he made between these two places, and he unhappily chose the rick. Quickly after, the thrashers at a small distance saw it take fire! They immediately ran to extinguish it, which they did without any great difficulty, as stacked hay burns but slowly; but they found the shepherd dead! His heels were stuck up, and his back rested against a part of the rick which had not been on fire. On a more careful examination, they found that his coat was singed on the right shoulder; his waistcoat did not appear to be burnt; but his shirt was reduced to tinder, not only on the shoulder, but all over the back. The skin under it appeared a little blistered, but the flesh not at all torn. His right leg was blistered round the outer ankle, and his shoe-buckle shattered almost to perfect powder. There was no wound on any part of the body which could be thought the cause of his death. About a month before this accident he told his mother a dream which struck deeply upon his imagination for a considerable time. He said he fancied himself surprised by a storm of thunder, and that he fled for shelter to the wall of a house, when a great flash of lightning came directly upon him, and that immediately he fancied himself strangled for want of breath.

About three months previous to this melancholy occurrence the same young man, who is well known in these parts, and whose name and address we withhold out of respect to his surviving relations, dreamt that as he sat on a fragment of St. John’s Castle, romantically situated on the shores of Loch-Ree--one of those many ruins that are to be found in desolated parts of this county! The scene around him was one of age and sublimity: he felt its imposing effect and was filled with the solemnity of its aspect! The winds were sweeping their sullen murmurs through the broken walls of the gigantic pile; the “voice of Time-disporting towers” fell with a sad sound upon the ear, and he could fancy, in the pauses of the hollow blast, that he saw spectral shapes of other days peeping from the dark passages and broken windows, and then suddenly disappearing like night-birds, that, having wakened too early for their dusky evening flight, shrink back aghast to their gloomy bowers, from the offensive glare of a lingering sunset! Melancholy and romance were in the hour, and he insensibly yielded to their powerful influence.

As his half-closed eyes were carelessly fixed upon a little chasm in the vaulted floor, that lay some fifty feet beneath him, he perceived, with a surprise not unmixed with terror, that the long grass which partly concealed it began to move with more than the wind-motion. He thought a thin blue smoke issued from the widening aperture, and a confused murmer of hollow voices arose. He would have fled from the place, but his companions had, at his own request, left him to indulge in melancholy, and had taken his boat for a short sail to some islands farther up the lake; besides, he had no means of quitting the almost insulated ruin, but by passing the mysterious vapour, which crossed the only path to a strip of land that connected the basement of the castle with the main shore. This he was determined not to do. He therefore quietly remained in the watch-tower with mingled feelings of curiosity and dread!

The blue mist at length disappeared--the murmur of hollow voices died away--all was silent again save the beach-wave and the moaning of the wind through the caverns of the ruin. He began to think he had imagined the scene, and was just about to quit his hiding-place, when suddenly the vapour issued again, and, thunder-struck with astonishment and admiration, he beheld a female figure slowly rising from the vault like a spirit from earth’s tomb on its way to immortal blessedness! she was lightly clad--lightly enough to betray a form of beauty, half-woman, half-child, that he had never before contemplated, even in his dreams! It was loveliness even beyond his ideal conceptions, and seemed to be of that age when childhood usually gives her last portion of innocence to youth, and fearfully resigns her little charge to approaching maturity.

She ascended, with the rapidity of a winged creature, up a curtain-wall that shut out the northern view of the lake from the interior of the castle, when, having gazed long and wistfully (as he thought) upon the dim sail of his little bark in the hazy distance, she descended with the same careless activity, to a mound of ivy and wild flowers that sprung up spontaneously in the ruin, like sweet, but unbidden recollections of happy days gone by in a broken heart.

THE SCARBOROUGH TRAGEDY.

Giving an Account how Susan Forster, a Farmer’s only Daughter, near Scarborough, was seduced by Mr Robert Sanders, a Naval Officer, under promise of Marriage. How she became Pregnant, and the wicked hardened, and cruel Wretch appointed to meet her at a well-known retired spot, which she unhappily did, and was basely Murdered by him, and buried under a Tree, and of the wonderful manner in which this base Murder was brought to light, and he was committed to Gaol.

Young virgins fair of beauty bright,
And you that are of Cupid’s fold,
Unto my tragedy give ear,
For it’s as true as e’er was told.
In Yorkshire, liv’d a virgin fair,
A farmer’s only daughter dear,
And young sea-captain did her ensnare,
Whose station was her father near.

Susannah was this maiden’s name,
The flower of all that country,
This officer a courting came,
Begging that she his love would be.
Her youthful heart to love inclin’d,
Young Cupid bent his golden bow,
And left his fatal dart behind,
Which prov’d Susannah’s overthrow.

Ofttimes at evening she would repair,
Close to the borders of the sea,
Her treach’rous love would meet her there,
The time it passed most pleasantly,
And while they walked the sea-banks over,
To mark the flowing of the tide,
He said he’d be her constant lover
And vow’d that she should be his bride.

Within the pleasant groves they walk’d,
And vallies where the lambs do play,
Sweet pleasant tales of love they talk’d,
To pass away the summer day.
My charming lovely Susan, said he,
See how the pleasant flowers spring,
The pretty birds on every tree,
With melody the groves doth ring.

I nothing want for to delight
My soul, but those sweet charms of thine,
My heart is fix’d, therefore my dear,
Like the turtle-dove let us combine,
Let me embrace my heart’s delight,
Within this pleasant bower here;
This bank of violets for our bed,
Shaded with these sweet roses fair,

She said, what can you mean, I pray,
I am a farmer’s daughter born.
What signifies my beauty bright,
A trifle, when my honour’s gone.
My parents they will me disdain,
Young virgins they will me deride,
Oh! do not prove my overthrow,
If you love me stay till your bride.

Sweet angel bright, I here do vow,
By all the powers that are divine,
I’ll ne’er forsake my dearest dear,
The girl that does my soul confine.
And if that you will me deny,
This sword shall quickly end my woe,
Then from her arms he ran straightway
In fury, out his sword he drew.

Her hands as white as lilies fair,
Most dreadfully she then did wring
She said, my death’s approaching near,
Would I pity take and comfort him
It only brings my fatal fall,
’Tis I who must receive the wound
The crimson dye forsook her cheeks,
At his feet she dropp’d upon the ground.

Thus innocence he did betray,
Full sore against her chaste desire;
True love is a celestial charm,
The flame of lust a raging fire.
But when her senses did revive,
He many vows and oaths did make,
That he’d for ever true remain,
Her company would not forsake.

Now virgins in the second part,
Observe this maiden’s fatal end,
When once your virtue is betray’d,
You’ve nothing young men will commend.
After the traitor had his will
He never did come near her more,
And from her eyes both day and night,
For his sake the crystal tears did pour,

Into a mournful valley she crossed,
Would often wander all alone,
And for the jewel she had lost
In the bower would often mourn.
Oh! that I were some pretty bird,
That I might fly to hide my shame;
O silly maid, for to believe
The fair delusions of a man.

The harmless lamb that sports and plays,
The turtle’s constant to his mate,
Nothing so wretched is as I,
To love a man that does me hate.
I will to him a letter send,
Remind him of the oaths he made
Within that shady bower, where
My tender heart he first betray’d.

Her trembling hand a letter wrote,
My dearest dear, what must I do?
Alas! what have I done, that I
Forsaken am now by you!
I could have wedded a worthy farmer,
Who little knows my misery;
I did forsake a wealthy grazier,
All for the love I bore to thee.

And now my little infant dear
Will quickly spread abroad my shame,
One line of comfort to me send,
E’er I am by your cruelty slain.
This answer he to her did send,
Your insolence amazes me,
To think that I should marry one
With whom, before, I have been free.

Indeed I’ll not a father be
Unto a bastard you shall bear,
So take no further thought of me,
No more from you pray let me hear.
When she this letter did receive,
She wrung her hands and wept full sore:
And every day she still would range,
To lament within the pleasant bower.

The faithless wretch began to think,
Her father’s rich, as I do hear,
He said, I sure shall punished be,
Soon as the story he does hear.
The devil then he did begin
To enter in his wretched mind;
Her precious life he then must have,
Thus he to act the thing did find.

He many times did watch her out,
Into the pleasant valley, where
One day he privately did go,
When he knew she was not there.
And privately he dug a grave
Underneath an oaken tree.
Then in the branches he did hide,
To act his piece of cruelty.

Poor harmless soul she nothing knew,
As usual she went there alone,
And on a bank of violets
In mournful manner sat her down.
Of his unkindness did complain;
At length the grave she did espy,
She rose indeed to view the same,
Not thinking that he was so nigh.

You gentle gods so kind, said she,
Did you this grave for me prepare?
He then descended from the tree,
Saying, strumpet now thy death is near.
O welcome, welcome, she replied,
As long as by your hand I die,
This is a pleasant marriage bed,
I’m ready, use your cruelty.

But the heavens bring to light
Thy crime, and thus let it appear,
Winter and summer on this grave,
The damask rose in bloom spring here.
Never to wither though ’tis cropped,
But when thy hand do touch the same,
Then may the bloom that minute blast
To bring to light my bitter shame.

More she’d have said, but with his sword,
He pierc’d her tender body through;
Then threw her in the silent grave,
Saying, now, there is an end of you.
He fill’d the grave up close again,
With weeds the same did overspread;
Then unconcerned, he straight went home,
Immediately went to his bed.

Her parents dear did grieve full sore, at
The loss of their young daughter,
Thinking she was stole away, as
To all their riches she was heir to.
Twelve months after this was passed,
Thousands for a truth do know,
According as she did desire,
On her grave a damask rose grew.

Many wonder’d at the same,
For in the winter it did spring,
If any one did crop the rose,
In a moment it would grow again.
The thing it blazed the country round,
And thousands went the same to see,
This miracle from heaven shew,
He ’mong the rest must curious be.

To go and see if this was true,
But when unto the plant he came,
The beauteous rose he saw in bloom,
And eagerly he cropp’d the same.
The leaves did fall from off the bush,
The rose within his hand did die,
He cried, ’tis fair Susannah’s blood,
That spring up from her fair body.

Many people that were there,
Took notice of what he did say,
They told him he’d a murder done,
He the truth confess’d without delay.
They dug and found the body there,
’Twas but this month that it was known.
Before a magistrate he went,
And now in prison lies forlorn.

Till he his punishment receives,
No doubt but he will have his due;
Young men by this a warning take,
Perform your vows whate’er ye do.
For God does find out many ways,
Such heinous sins to bring to light,
For murder’s a most horrid sin,
And hateful in his blessed sight.

TRAGIC VERSES.

Come all fair maids both far and near and listen unto me,
While unto you I do relate a dreadful Tragedy,
A deed of blood I will unfold which lately came to light,
When ’tis made known, you’ll surely own you never heard the like.

’Tis of an honest farmer’s child, a damsel fair and young,
Who was in tender years beguil’d all by a flattering tongue,
The finest lady in the land could not with her compare,
Her dimpled cheeks and rosy looks how charming sweet they were.

Crowds of admirers flocking came, to gain fair Susan’s love;
But none her favour could obtain, nor her affections move,
Till by mischance a youth she met, as fate would have it so,
Who caught her heart in Cupid’s net and prov’d her overthrow.

A naval Captain of renown, beguil’d her tender youth,
Deceit and lies he did disguise with air of seeming truth,
He prais’d her looks, her shape, her air, vow’d she should be his wife,
And thus did vilely her ensnare--then took her precious life.

When he had thus her ruin prov’d by many a solemn vow,
The very maid he vow’d to love was hateful in his view.
With bitter tears she did implore that he’d his vows fulfil;
But all in vain--she charm’d no more now he had had his will.

She wrote a letter which she thought would grieve his heart full sore,
And tenderly she him besought, to mind the vows he swore,
T’was you that did my heart trepan, which now in tears I rue--
Slighted many an honest man all for the love of you.

I wish that my young babe was born and on the nurse’s knee,
And I myself was dead and gone and the grass grown over me.
When he this letter through had read, which expos’d his villainy,
A deadly thought came in his head her butcher for to be.

With seeming kindness in his face which made poor Susan gay,
He did appoint a lonely place to meet with her next day.
The hour arriv’d, she hasten’d there to the appointment true,
Where the deceitful murderer the lovely damsel slew.

When she beheld his deadly knife she rais’d her lovely face,
Crying, Oh! spare, Oh! spare my life and leave me to disgrace,
Have pity on your unborn babe tho’ you have none for me;
Alas! a dark untimely grave, my bridal bed will be.

Her lovely face, her beauteous eyes, for mercy plead in vain,
Of no avail were tears or cries unmov’d he did remain,
He rais’d his arm,--a deadly plunge, and down she weltering lay,
And while her heart’s-blood stain’d the ground, with dying breath
did say.

“Monster, the fearful crime you’ve done heaven’s LORD will bring to
light,
“No human eye is looking on--none sees the cruel sight.
“Yet righteous KING of heaven and earth my blood doth cry to thee,
“To visit my untimely death that all mankind may see.”

Now when this deed of blood was done he dug a hole so deep,
And thrust her murdered body in, then homeward did retreat,
But vengeance did his crime requite for to his great dismay,
The horrid murder came to light all in a wond’rous way.

He did confess--they dug the ground while hundreds came to view.
And here the murder’d corpse they found, of her who lov’d so true,
In irons now in Prison strong lamenting he does lie;
And, by the laws condemn’d ere long, most justly he will die.

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth-court, 7 Dials.

THE NAKED TRUTH, OR DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND,

BEING THE FULL ACCOUNT OF AN EXTRAORDINARY WAGER OF £5000, Laid between Lord ---- and the Duke’s Son, TWO MEN OF FASHION.

To Miss C----

=When=--fiercest storms are gone to rest,
=Shall=--mild and gentle calms succeed,
=I=--’m told, to ease the heart opprest,
=Sleep=--is the only balm we need.
=With=--these few lines, by nature taught,
=You=--will a simple question find;
=My=--meaning’s plain, so find it out,
=Love=--will direct you, tho’ he’s blind.

Miss C----’s answer.

=To=--bless you is my soul’s desire,
=Night=--brings in dreams my flame,
=If=--you can feel an equal fire,
=You=--’ll find me still the same.
=Will=--you be still of tender mind;
=Bring=--love not light, but constant kind,
=The=--world would ne’er see such a couple;
=Parson=--’s can conquer every scruple,

A few nights since, at a fashionable _hell_ in the western part of this _well policed_ metropolis, the following extraordinary wager was laid and decided. Lord -------- bet £5000 with the eldest son of the Duke of -------- who had frequently distinguished himself by his eccentricities, that he would carry him on his shoulders nine times round St. James’s square after the business of the house was finished. At three o’clock in the morning, the parties, attended by their friends, repaired to the spot; but here Lord ------- observed that his bet was to carry his opponent, but _not his clothes also_. However, the young hero of joking and smoking celebrity, was not to be done by his cunning adversary, and he actually, at that hour of the morning, with the wind sharp as a “serpent’s tooth,” stripped himself to the _buff_. Yes, gentle, refined, or rheumatic reader! he, this son of the Duke of --------, divesting himself of shame (if ever he had any), stripped himself of _all_, even to the most minute parts of his dress, and won £5000. And then covering himself, not with glory, but his clothes, went to finish at a bagnio, with the notorious and accommodating Miss C-------- of -------- Square, not a hundred miles off.--=“These are the Men of Fashion!!”=

Batchelar, Printer, Long Alley.

EXTRAORDINARY & FUNNY DOINGS IN THIS NEIGHBOURHOOD.

It is ------ is a comical place,
And you’ll find from one end to the other,
And all classes of persons through life,
Can daily find fault with the other.
Some can gossip and tattle about,
And fill every person with dizziness,
What an excellent thing it would be,
If people would mind their own business.

Did you see Mrs Bubble-and-squeak,
Walk out with her young daughter Sally,
She has got on a new bonnet and shawl,
And a nice handsome gown on the tally.
Such a bustle, oh! dear, she does wear,
Why cut up with pride I am sure she is,
Some can always see other folks’ faults,
But they never can mind their own business

Mrs Stradle has just gone along,
Don’t you think she’s a queer sort of creature
She owes tenpence for chandler’s shop score,
Besides eighteen pence for the baker.
And she can drink gin like a fish,
Which oft fills her head with dizziness,
But you know that, is nothing to me,
For I always do mind my own business.

Mrs Thingembob, what do you think,
You know Mrs and Miss Carbuncle,
Last night took the pillows and sheets,
Their flat irons and gowns to my uncle.
I think between you and me,
It can be nothing more than laziness,
I wish you’d take my advice,
Look at home and mind your own business,
And we shall all find enough for to do.

Madam,