Monmouthshire Merlin

THE SECOND SIEGE OF CAWNPORE. The following extracts from a letter from an eye- witness of the events which have recently occurred at Cawnpore will be found interesting :— "Cawnpore Camp, Dec. 3. "The 12 o'clock gun struck as I reached the in- trenchment, and this was followed by a general cannonade. Captain Morphy advised me to take up quarters at the hotel. As I sat there, after a com- fortable breakfast, a doolie was brought up to the verandah. The man in it had his head shattered, and was roaring. It was a horrid spectacle—my first glimpse of military glory. The roar of artillery and the sharp crack of rifles continued, and I proceeded to the gate of the Fort to see why my baggage had not come after me. Between the Fort and the hotel the garrison provost (who told me he had had the pleasure of flogging and superintending the hanging of several miscreants concerned in the massacre) showed me the house and verandah bespattered with blood where the ladies and children were murdered by order of Nana Sahib—the tree against which the poor children were dashed—and the hideous well, now closed up into which the mutilated and reeking bodies were thrown. On the wall of the house I found an in scription with a pin by one of the murdered women I copied it' Countrymen and women, lemember the 15th of July, 1857. Your wives and families are here in misery and at the disposal of savages, who has [sic] ravished both young and old, and then killed them Oh, oh! my child, my child. Countrymen revenge it The underlining is in the original. On arriving at the gate of the Fort I found that the people, civil and military, were rushing from their houses and tents with whatever clothes aud furniture they could snatch up. "nuuic "3.20 P.M.—Saw our troops retreating into the outer intrenchment. A regular panic followed. Trains of elephants, camels, horses, bullock-waggous, and dooliesc ame in at the principal gate, laden with stuff. The principal builiings in the Fort are the General Hospital, the Sailors' Hospital, the Post-office, and the Commissariat Cellars. Around these houses, which are scattered, crowds of camels, bullocks, and horses were collected, fastened by ropes to stikes in the ground, and among the animals piles of trunks, beds, chairs, and miscellaneous furniture and baggage. There was scarcely room to move. The Fort may cover three or four acres, I should say. Met one of the chaplains hastening into the entrenchment He had left everything in his tent outside. The servants almost everywhere abandoned their masters when they heard the guus. Mounted officers were galloping across the rough ground between the inner and outer intrenchments, and doolie after doolie, with its red curtains down, concealing some poor victim, passed on to the hospitals. The poor fellows were brought in, shot, cut, shattered, and wounded in every imaginable way; and as they went by, raw stumps might be seen hanging over the sides of the doolies, literally like torn butchers meat. The agonies which I saw some of them endure during the surgical operations were such as no tongue or pen can describe. The surgeons, who did their utmost, were so overworked that many sufferers lay bleeding for hours before it was possible to attend to them. Here and there, both outside the hospitals and within them, a man lay on his bloody litter breathing out his life. The groans and cries were heartrending. I saw one sailor carried in a litter on the shoulders of four men; he was severely wounded but kept up his spirits amazingly, and spoke to his comrades as he passed quite jocularly. "But I must be brief, else I shall lose the mail. The retreat is thus explained. General Windham, who repulsed the enemy yesterday, went out to-day about noon to attack the three divisions of the Gwalior rebels under Nana Sahib. Windham was routed, I regret to say, and lost his camp with 500 tents, the mess-ptate of six regiments, no end of tents, saddlery, and harness in an untinished state, and private property valued at £ 50,000. So it is said. He left his flank exposed, and made no provision for the safety of his camp. This has been a most disastrous affair. SATURDAY, NOV 28. "11.15 A.M. Brigadier Wilson has been carried into his tent mortally wounded, shot through the back and left lung. He lived for two hours, and then calmly sunk to his rest. His last moments proved him to be a hero and a Christian. The chaplain re- mained with him till he died. The conduct of the G-lth Regimeut this morning has justly excited admiration. Brigadier Wilson asked General Wiudham to allow him "to charge the enemy with the 61th, of which he was colonel. Per mission was grautcd. The regiment advanced in tile lace o the enemy, and under a murderous fire, u! l!Ta iai-1 llfalf"mlc» UP a ravine commanded by V bfi ™n, as weU as on the right and left. S,lAin t fIndse ,u fr°nt, four 9-poundcrs played upon them as they went forward. The left flank of the Gwalior rebels rested on the Ganges, and their guns were protected by dense columns of troops who lay under cover, and were strongly supported by cavalry on their left. After disputing every inch of the ground, their front line was driven back by the steady and determined fire of the 64th. It then appeared that overwhelming numbers of the hostile force lay con- cealed in three or four parallels behind. These rose and met the 64th as soon as the foremost officers, Major Stirling, Captain Saunders, Captain Morphy, Captain Macrae, Lieutenant Parsons, Lieutenant O'Grady and others reached the crest on the ridge, and charged upon the guns, followed by the column. Major Stirling fell gloriously in front of the battery, fighting hand to hand with the enemy, of whom he killed several. Captain Morphy was shot through the heart and seemed to bound from his saddle, falling heavily upon his head Captain Macrae also met his fate like a soldier, with his face to the foe. Captain Saunders commanding the leading division, dashed forward, followed by Parsons and O'Gradv. Parsons instantly received a severe wound in his sword arm. O'Grady cheered the men on, waving his cap in the air until he had the honour of laying his hand on one of the guns. The regiment took up the cheer, and hurried on to the support of Saunders and O'Grady, now fiercely engaged in personal conflict with the Gvvaliors. The hue old Brigadier (whose horse, wounded in two places carried him with difficulty over he rough ground) was pushing on with all possible speed to the front, shouting, Now, boys, you have them when he received hS mortal wound. fome'orhisT,!6 llis «»* « the saddle, while he rontiS <• °WS Carried to the rear, honour of the corps Iffis 1UM?PS t?,maiataia fu Wlr on tliPi'i. vJ, Juncture the enemy fell uar^lela behind TT' Ch J*y concealed in tlie parallels behind. 1 hen occurred one of those blunders which neutralize the effect of the bravest actions. 1 wo of our own guns opened fire on the 64th Regi- ment from the left, and at the same instant the enemy, cavalry, together with the overwhelming force of infantry in front, poured down upon the right, and compelled our troops to retire. Strange to say, Captain Saunders, and (I believe) Lieutenant O'Grady, escaped unhurt. After the death of Brigadier Wilson and Major Stirling, Capt. Saunders became the senior officer present, aud his conspicuous gallantry to-day deserves not only honourable mention, but such a reward as a soldier covets. The hospital to-day is a perfect Aceldama SUNDAY, NOV. 29. At dawn great guns began to play upon us. Soon afterwards the cannonade became general, and by 7 a.m. it was something tremendons-shot and shell flying over us in all directions. 8.30 A.M.—Good news Sir Colin Campbell, with a strong reinforcement, and 4-70 women and children from Lucknow, are on the other side of the Ganges, which flows under the northern parapet of our in- trenchment. The troops with the Commander-in- chief, said to number 3,000, are much needed here to-day. Looking over the wall for an instant (it is not very safe to show one's head) I see two bodies of horsemen in advance, and an extended line of troops, elephants, camels, bullock-waggons, and camp fol- lowers, stretching far away into the horizon. The bauging of our own guns just under at our ears is most deafening. Grape and shot have been falling on the tree close to our tent. Some shells, I believe have fallen on the hospital, which is unfortunately much exposed. Every square foot of the verandah of the floor and verandah of the General Hospital is covered with wounded officers and men. 11.40 A.M.—Horse Artillery, 8th Lancers, 32nd, 53rd, and 93rd Regiments have crossed the bridge of boats below our Fort. Heartily glad to see the kilt, the plumes, and the tartan. May God defend, direct, and bless my brave countrymen Such a Sunday Two shells have just whizzed over heads. Fall in 82nd is the cry. We hope the advance with bayo- nets is now to be made, as the rebels are taking shel- ter under some ruined houses. The hotel is in flames. 12 N OON.-Grape, round shot, and rifle bullets rushing over us in slight showers. A round shot has crashed through the big tree beside us. 1 p.M.-This is exciting. Another large round shot over our heads. They have not quite got our range. Fortunately the parapet protects us in some degree. Bang! another over us! Again—again— again (a shell this time, and burst). Our guns on ""i..1 the parapet are answering them, so that the earth trembles. A person has come into the tent saying, 44 We have killed loads of the enemy." The more the better, we all think. The artillery is beautifully directed by Captain Dangerfield and others on the parapets. 2.15 p.M.-The cannonade has paused for half an hour. I hear Lucknow soldiers and their old com- rades exchanging greetings and congratulations in their rough but hearty style, and counting over the dead and wounded of their acquaintance. 0 2.35 P.M.—Cannonade commenced again. The Rifles have not ceased all day. Colonel Fyers and his men have done good service. They went into action on Friday as soon as they reached Cawnpore, although they had marched 48 miles almost without halting, and some were lame, many footsore, and all weary. Their arrival seemed to be the means of saving the Fort, when our other troops were in full retreat. Colonel Woodford, an excellent officer, with whom I came from Benares to Allahabad, was killed in a hand- to-hand fight in the field yesterday. There is a dense column of smoke ascending from the town about half a mile off. 4 P.M.—One of the ladies from Lucknow has come in, and M- and I have given up the tent to her. She has a most touching story to tell, and she tells it most effectively. She gave us in half an hour what might be the substance of an iu- terestmg volume. She and tier husband itarv iott their all. 5.30 P.M.—The scene from the verandah of the General Hospital is at this moment one never to be forgotten. A procession of human beings, cattle, and vehicles, six miles long, is coming up to the bridge of boats below the Fort. It is just about sunset. Ihe variety of colour in the sky and on the plain, the bright costumes and black faces of the native ser- vants, the crowd of camels and horse, and the piles of furniture, and so forth, in the foreground at my feet -all seen between two pillars of this verandah, which is raised some eight or ten feet from the ground- produce a very remarkable effect. But the groans of the poor fellows on charpoys and on the floor, behind and around me, dissolve the fascination of the scene."

THE INDIAN NATIVE CHARACTER.—Nothing so thoroughly manifests the generous credulity of English- men as the extent to which the cruelties practised throughout the Bengal insurrection everywhere filled them with astonishment or took them by surprise. Blindly and cordial by nature, irascible and violent at times, but never cruel or vindictive, the Englishman forgot the lessons Oriental history had taught him, or believed that, if such barbarities as we have just seen had once prevailed, they had long since ceased to be possible. Told hourly by the native that Hindooism was unchangeable, himself continually in the habit of asserting that the Brahmin must remain through all time that which through all time he had been, he forgot that the fundamental feature of the Brahmin character had been that very peculiarity which he now imagined to have disappeared. The frightful change of relations that has within the last six months occurred betwixt the native and the English- man arises from this—that we now for the first time perceive what we all along ought to have known, that cruelty and caste are synonymous, and that the on, must remain as long as the other endures. The native. too, feels that he has found that he has heretofore got credit for virtues to which he could lay no claim and that what were wished to be considered venerable preju- dices or harmless peculiarities, furnish the rudiments or the elements of the darkest and foulest crimes. We have now the key to the domestic slavery, the torture, the suttee, and infanticide, the widow and child murder -for these are the names by which they ought to be called-which, for 20 centuries at least, have been native usages. We suppressed by the strong arm of authority the external embodiment, and fancied that when we had plucked the leaves or struck down the twigs, the tree was dead. The summer of its strength returned, and its luxuriant shoots sprang out in their freshest vigour at Meerut, Delhi, and Cawnpore.-Bom- bay Times. POWER OVER THE HORSE.-On Wednesday morning Mr. John S. Raney, from the United States, America, had the honour of exhibiting before her Majesty, the Prince Consort, and the Royal family and suite, in the riding-house, his miraculous power over the horse or various subjects selected for the occasion. He com- menced with a wild colt, 18 months old, belonging to the Prince Consort, which was brought from Shaw Farm, and which had never been handled except by halter and selected by Colonel the Hon. A. N. Hood for the occasion. After being alone with the animal about an hour and a half the Royal party entered, and found Mr. Raney, sitting on its back without holding the rein, the horse standing perfectly quiet. Mr. Raney then made a few remarks in regard to his great experience in the treatment of this noble animal. A drum was after- wards handed to Mr. Raney, which he beat with fury whilst sitting on the horse's back, without the colt exhi- biting any signs of fear. The Royal party afterwards withdrew for a few minutes, and on their return found the animal lying down and Mr. Raney knocking its hind legs together, one of which he put against his face. Afterwards a restive horse selected from Mr. Andersen's I stables in London was brought, which Mr. Raney said he had before handled. This horse was placed at one end of the riding house alone. Mr. Raney went to the other end, and at his command the horse walked quietly up to him. He then made the horse lie down in the presence of the Queen, when Mr. Raney crawled between his hind legs, and over him in various ways. Mr. Raney then rolled the horse on its back the horse afterwards was placed in various positions, in which it stood without holding, and without a bridle. A third horse, selected by Mr. Meyers, the riding master, as a very nervous animal, was then brought in, and in a few minutes after- wards it was made by Mr. Raney to do all that had been done by the other horses. At the conclusion of this exhibition of Mr. Raney's wonderful power over the horse, his Royal Highness the Prince Consort expressed to Mr. Raney his gratification and thanks. The secret has been entrusted to Major General Sir Richard Airey in confidence, who has pronounced that there is nothing in the treatment hut what any horsenaa would approve of

DEATH OF THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, K.G. The Duke of Devonshire died suddenly at an early hour on Monday morning. The Duke's relatives were much affected on the receipt of the mournful intelligence as the demise of his Grace was most unexpected, letters I having been received by post on Monday morning which led to the supposition that the noble Duke was in the en- enjoyment of his ordinary health. The Duke was seized by paralysis about five years since, from which he had long since partially recovered, so much so, that he was able to receive company, and during the past season had large parties at Bolton Abbey for grouse shooting. The noble Duke had been staying several months at Hard- wick-hall, and having enjoyed such good health had not, as usual, during the autumn gone to his marine residence at Brighton. His death will be deeply regretted by a large circle of friends in the higher circles of society, as well as his numerous tenantry and dependants, to whom he was a liberal and considerate landlord. The late William Spencer Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire, Mar- quess of Hartington, county of Derby, Earl of Devon- shire, Baron Cavendish of Hardwick, county of Derby, and Baron Cliff,)rd, in the peerage of England, was the only son of William, fifth Duke, by his first mar- riage with Lady Georgiana Spencer, eldest daughter of John, first Earl Spencer. He was born May 21, 1790, and was unmarried. Shortly after he attained his majo- rity-namely, July 11, 1811, he succeeded to the duke- dom and the princely estates of the family. The late Duke held the traditionary politics of his ancestors, but, like his father, assisted the Whig party by his influence and his silent vote in the House of Lords more than by other means, for he never spoke in that assembly on any of the great political questions advocated or opposed by the Whig party. His Grace was more calculated to charm the social circle than to engage in the turbulent arena of political strife. He was sent on a special em- bassy to Russia, in May, 1826, as ambassador extraor- dinary at the coronation of the late Emperor Nicholas. His Grace's retinue was of the most superb character, and cost him a very considerable sum of money-it was said over J650,000 beyond the allowanoe made by Go- vernment. The late Emperor, in acknowledgment of the magnificence of his embassy, and out of personal regard to the Duke, conferred on him the Russian orders of St. Andrew and St. Alexander Newski. The inti- macy engendered on the Duke's visit to St. Petersburg was never relaxed, and on the Emperor of Russia's last visit to this country he was entertained by his Grace with princely hospitality. In the year following his mis- sion to St. Petersburg be was made a Knight of the Order of the Garter, of which illustrious order of knight- hood he was the senior knight. He was made a Privy Councillor the same year, 1827 and in May that year was appointed Lord Chamberlain of George IV.'s House- household, which he held up to February, 1828. The noble Duke was again appoited Lord Chamberlain of the late King William IV.'s Household in November, 1830 —an office he held up to December, 1834. The de- ceased Duke was Lord-Lieutenant aud Custos Rotulorum of Devonshire, and High Steward of Derby. His Grace was a D.C.L. and President of the Horticultural Society. His Grace leaves two surviving sisters, the Countess of Carlisle (mother of the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland), and the Countess Dowager Granville (mother of the Lord President of the Council). The deceased Duke is suc- ceeded in his family honours and great landed estates in Derbyshire and Yorkshire, and in Ireland, by his kins- man the Earl of Burlington, grandson of Lord George Cavendish (afterwards Earl of Burlington), son of William, fourth Duke of Devonshire. The families of the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland, the Duke of Port- land, Sir Augustus and Lady Elizabeth Clifford, Hon. Mrs. George Lamb, General the Hon. Henry Cavendish, the Earl and Countess Granville, the Hon. and Lady Fanny Howard, Lady Dover, Hon. and Rev. Mr. and Eacty Elizabeth Gray, the ilight Hon. Henry and Lady Mary jEtabouchere, the Earl of Carlisle, Lord and Lady Bagot, the Hon. George and Lady Louisa Cavendish, Loid and Lady Rivers, Lord and Lady Charles Fitzroy, the Hon. Charles C. and Lady Catherine Cavendish, and many others are placed in mourning by the lamented de- mise of the noble Duke. The Dukes of Devonshire are descended from William, second son of Sir William Cavendish, gentleman usher to Cardinal Wolsey, by Elizabeth, the celebrated Countess of Shrewsbury, who built the fine old Elizabethan hall at Hardwick, where the Duke expired. William Caven- dish obtained a peerage through the influence of his niece, Lady Arabella Stuart, in 1605, being made Baron Cavendish of Hardwick; and in 1618 was further raised by being created Earl of Devonshire.

A PROPRIETARY PRISON. A Proprietary Prison—a prison held in seigniory by a noble Duke under a charter bearing date in the reign of James 1., and confirmed in the reign of Charles II.— a prison perched in the ruined keep of a feudal castle—a prison in which no food, no fuel, no water, no medical attendance, and no religious instruction is supplied to the unfortunate inmates-all this would sound absurdly in- credible in fiction, but is neither more nor less than a literal matter of act. The prison in question is the Debtors' Gaol at Swansea—its noble owner is the Duke of Beaufort. For the last fourteen years successive Secretaries of State have been memorialised on the sub- ject, and in the 18th Report of her Majesty's Inspectors of Prisons we find the most recent of these unheeded complaints. The prison," reports the persevering and unregarded Inspector, consists of the ruined keep of the Castle of Swansea, divided into four rooms. These rooms consist of the mere walls, no furniture whatever being allowed to the prisoners. They are very cold in winter, but no fuel is furnished for warming them. No food is allowed; but the prisoners's friends, if they have any, are permitted to feed them. If" however, they are not so fortunate, they must depend upon the intercession of some person with the parish to procure for them a pit- tance for their maintenance, and their chance of medical attendance in sickness depends on the same precarious assistance, There is not even any water within their reach, the supply of this necessary of life being entirely dependent upon the occasional visits of a gaoler residing in a distant part of the town. I have not been able to learn that any religious instructor has ever been seen within the prison. The prison is the property of his Grace the Duke of Beaufort, who has the custody of all debtors, except those committed by the County Courts, by virtue of his lordship of the seigniory of Gower and Kilvey." A further light was thrown upon the attrac- tions of this pleasant spot by an investigation which took place one day last week before the Commissioner of the Bankruptcy Court at Bristol. An unlucky linen- draper of Swansea—one Evan Davies—-who had spent about six weeks in this manorial stronghold of the Fitz- roys, was examined with regard to the alleged misappro- priation of a couple of sovereigns, which had been fur- tively brought to him in the Keep by a trusty shopboy. The money clearly belonged to his creditors, and as clearly had been expended by the bankrupt on his own account. It became necessary to see under what circum- stances this was done. The bankrupt's short and some- what forcible justification was, that if he had not spent this money he must have starved. He had laid it out in procuring the barest necessaries of life. After receiving this 40s. I had to pay for fetching food and water. There was no allowance whatever made to the prisoner; not even straw to lie upon. My friends afterwards sent me a bed. The part of the gaol where I was confined had several broken panes in it. It was in a very filthy state, and was never swept except by myself. Ihe ram came in through the roof." When the messenger of the court came to discharge the prisoner, under an order of release, he had some difficulty in discovering the place of the man's confinement. It was approached by a plank across a sort of ditch." "Though I knew Swansea well I was about three hours finding it out." It with- out exception, the most wretched and miserable place one could ever dream of. It is nothing but a ruin." There, my Lord Duke of Beaufort-there, Mr. Secretary for the Home Department, are a few plain facts for you. How long is this to last ?

The greatest marriage which, in point of fortune, can take place in Europe, is about to be contracted in Paris. A Princess Troubetzko'i is about to marry her cousin, and each of the parties is entitled to a fortune of a huu* dred thousand pouuds per annum. The bridegroocp-a young officer wounded in the Crimea, being left tot dead upon the field-has come to Paris for medico advice. He is fast recovering from an almost hopeless condition, with the loss, however, of the left eye, anil the amputa- tion ot the left arm just above the elbow. Ihe mutila- tion has in nowise affected sentiments of the fais intended, who insisted upon accompanying her fiance to Paris, in order to comfort and attend him during hir convalescence,-—Court Journal.

DREADFUL MURDER AT DARWEN. Some time on Wednesday afternoon a murder of the most shocking description was! perpetrated at the large manufacturing village of Over Darwcn, near Blackburn. The victim was an elderly man named Robert Kershair" and there is but too much reason to suppose that he met his death at the hands of his eldest son, with the know. ledge and complicity, perhaps at the instigation of iiii own wifj, On Wednesday evening the body of the deceased was found by the police buried under a heap of coals in the cellar of his own house, his forehead gashed with repeated wounds, and still covered with blood. The old man, who was in his 60th year, is known to have remained at home for sometime past, it being consi9eio&-<t,.Jt necessary that some one should always be in the r with Mrs. Kershaw. For some years she has beer: flighty," if not insane, in her talk, though usually ablo to attend to her household duties. On Wednesday morning all the children went to their work as usual, but Thomas, the eldest, loft Mr. Grimes's factory, whera he was employed, at 9 o'clock, saying he was going to Blackburn, and did not return during the day. All thn family, except Thomas, were at home to dinner at noon, and when they returned to ivork their father aud moth r £ appeared well and comfortable. About three o'clock iu aS the afternoon Thomas was seen to enter his fath«ti,ft house. One of the girls, a child about 12 years of a^tfv was the first home from work in the evening, and camdi^l in between 6 and 7 o'clock. She found her mothei alone, and on asking about her father was told aC had gone out. Soon afterwards Thomas came in, and (as tlie child says) at once went down to the cellar anc, began to shovel the coals." The other son, who<y» ■?$ name is Robert, came home about 7 o'clock, and not seeing his father made some inquiries, but says neithaf ^^g his mother nor Thomas would say nothing about him atflfB first. Afterwards, when he again asked, because hx& 3F father's absence was something so unusual as to give him i'" great surprise, Thomas replied that he knew nothill about his father except that, he went out long since. 'i Robert's further statement is, that Thomas afterwards pressed him very much to go to bed with him, and when he had slept a short time Thomas roused him and said, I've something horrible to tell thee but thee mustn't tell nobody about it." Robert asked what it was, and Thomas said, When I came home I found father dead in the house. Mother did it, but we'll all get taken up for it." Afterwards he added, I took the body downstairs and buried it in the coals." Then he asked Robert, Don't you think, about 4 or 5 o'clock in the morning, we could bury him in some place where ha he won't be discovered ? Then our best plan would be to make for Liverpool, and there we can and a ship to go to America." Robert jumped out of bed, saying, Stop where you are a bit," and ran down to the coal cellar,, where he found that the story was true." Instead ei returning to his brother, however, he says he slipped out ■% at the back door and ran to his uncle's, not far off, and knocked him up, asking him to send some one for the > polic". His uncle, whose name is Kearsley, sent his son •• to the police-office, where Mr. Inspector M'Donald in charge of the police at Over Darwen, was alone. After *■ answering a few questions the lad, who was much excited, ran away, and Mr. M'Donald went to Kershaw's house. He found tho sons and some other persons there. Thomas was leaning against the fireplace, with nothing on him except his shirt and trousers. Looking round, Mr. M'Donald suspected he saw marks of blood on the floor, but, being alone, he sent a man to collect four or five constables, and then locked all-the doors. His assistants having arrived he took a candlewent-to-> the coal-cellar, calling to Robert to come and show him the place. The officcr seeing something which appeared like the elbow of a man protruding from the heap of coals, Mr. M'Donald assisted him in an attempt to pull the body out. They were obliged, however, to shovel away about 2 cwt. of coals before the body could he removed. The old man's head presented a horrible sight, for it was apparently one mass of blood and wounds, each of them deep enough to be fatal, and of course it was frightfully blackened with the coals. The body was taken upstairs and washed as soon as possible, Mr. S. 11. Wraith, surgeon, being sent for to supprin- w tend and make an examination. In the meantime Xr: M'Donald observed that Thomas Kershaw appeared much agitated, and seemed watching for an opportunity to make his escape from the house. Mr. M'Donald told him he should take him into custody on suspicion of being the murderer, on which the prisoner cxclaimed Before I'll be charged with that I'll hang myself." Having secured him. Mr. M'Donald went upstairs, where he found Mrs. Kershaw in bed. On his asking her whelheif she knew anything of the death of her husband, she replied, "I've nothing to do with it." Being reminded that there could have been no one else in the house but herself and Thomas, she said her husband and son had commenced a scuffling that she went out, was away- for about 20 minutes, and when she came back saw no one, but heard a noise in the cellar as if the moving of coals. She called out, but could get no answer. To further questions she gave excited and incoherent replies, and mentioned that she had seen some blood in the place." Mr. M'D maid ordered. h"r also into custody, I, and both the prisoners were taken to the police-station. The struggle would appear to have taken place near the fireplace, which is in tho gable wall, the house being the end one of the row, and this may account for there being no noise heard by the neighbours. Tho traces of blood are near the fireplace of the "housf-part." The deceased was a stour, heavy man, but the body appears, nevertheless, to have been carried across the floor, down a flight of 10 or 11 steps, and into the dark, small cellar, where it must have bjen almost doubled up to allow of being covered with the coals. A largu heavy sp-ule found in the cellar is the weapon presumed to have been used in the infliction of several of the wounds on the head. By one of them the skull is shattered for several inches, t completely across the line of the right eyebrow, and that 8 wound must have been instantly fatal. On the left part Jk of the forehead there are three great wounds extending n from the hair to the eyebrow, the skull appearing to be iP fractured in each instance. Under the right eye and across the cheek bone another deep gash was inflicted, and the eye was almost forced out and destroyed. No trace of blood has been found on the spade, which hast however, been used in shovelling the coals. Another heavy blow under the left side of the jawbone is supposed to have been dealt with a poker from the grate in the house-part." The collar bone is also broken on the right side. There are contused wounds in the neck, and there are five or six other wounds in the face, sharply incised. It is possible that these were inflicted with a razor belonging to the old man, which was missing from its case on Thursday, and has not yet been found. The poker is stained with blood. No adequate motive for the crime has been suggested. Mrs. Kershaw is regarded as partially insane, and the sons have also been considered singular in their habits and their talk. They were, however, as well as the old man, sober and quiet in their conduct. Mrs. Kershaw is & said to have alleged that her husband ill-used ber when they were alone, but the neighbours believed himtô' De- a good, kind husband. She had been heard complaining that her husband taunted her with not being properly married to him, but it is not known that there is any foundation for this, even supposing her statement to be u omaa is understood to have always taken the mother's part, against all the other children, in believing •" her accounts of the deceased's ill-usage, but it is not supposed that be was on bad terms with his father, or f: that there were any serious disagreements in the family. 'c. Thomas Kershaw himself, who is about 20 years of age, has boine a really good character. He was neither tur- bulent nor dissipated. lie has been a member of the Over Darwen Mechanics' Institute for a long time, and was considered studious, having books of his own. After his apprehension he was, or pretended to be, demented he talked much rambling nonsense, and asked for pen, ink, and paper, that he might write to the Emperor Napoleon. On Thursday he asked for Robinton Crusoe from among his books. He is kept locked up in a cell, and watched. Mrs. Kershaw is also watched, but is placed in one of the rooms of the police-office. There is strange, rather wild look in her eyes, and she is aometimes much. excited. On Thursday she was asked by one of the officers when she was seated by the."fire, If she felt pretty comfortable," and replied. well; better than might be expected, I think."

In an affiliation case heard at Whitehaven last we*d £ > the mother was stated by her solicitor to be only thirteen years of age. Mr. Binney, the celebrated Independent ^preacher, has sailed for Australia, with Mrs. Binner, and several friends. Mr. Binney is voyaging for his health, and contemplates not more than a year's absence.