The Sun. — London, England, 1863-12-18 00:00:00

TILE CRAWLEY COURT-MARTIAL. The court-nartial on Lieut.-Colonel Crawley was resumed yest erday . morning at the Club-house, Aldershot, aftkn- an adjournment of a week to enable the prisoner ..to prepare his defence. However much public interest may have flagged during the course of this lengthened inquiry, the appearance of the court indicated that no such feeling was to be evinced by those who were able to gain admission to its precincts. Nearly' the whole of the space hitherto devoted to the general public was appropriated to. rows of reserved setts, duly numbered, which, long before the opening of the court, began to be filled - oy distinguished visitors, together with many officers and ladies. Amongst those present were Lord and Lady Chelms'!ord, Sir W. Hayter, Calouel AP.Murdo and lady, Mr. Headlarn, M.P., Judge Advocate- General, Sir E. Lugard, Sir Harry Jones, General Brook Taylor, General Aitchinson, Colonel Scott, Colonel Luard, !onel Knox, 18th Hussars, Colonel Bentiock, Colonel Napier, &c. On the Court re-ossembling, Colonel Crawley soid—May I ask at this stage to introduce to the court the letter which I wrote in application to the Horse Guards for the production of the historical memoir of the 6th Dragoons men tioned by Sir Hugh Rose, and also to read the reply to my application ? The President—Certainly. Colonel Pipon then read the letter of application from the prisoner for the production of the memoir In question, and the reply of the Adjutant-General, Sir James Yorke Scarlett, informing him that the Field-Marshal Commanding-in-Chief considered that tlse production of that document would be detrimental to the public service, and was, there fore, unable to consent to its production. A copy of an address delivered by Colonel Crawley to the officers of the Inniskillings, on the 2d March, 1863, shortly after the Meow court martial, and also verified extracts from the court martial books of the regiment, were put in as evi dence and attached to the proceedings. The former inculcated good feeling amongst the officers, declaring that two parties no longer existed in the regiment ; and the object of the latter was to show that a far smaller number of courts-martial took place during the time he commanded the regiment than in any preceding period. Having obtained leave to postpone ceiling the witnesses to character until after the conclusion of his statement, Colonel Crawley then proceeded to read the fol lowing address: —At last, Sir —at last —the hour has arrived when I am permitted t o speak i n my o wn defence. It might be supposed that, for an officer who has the honour to command a regiment secon d to none in her Majesty's servi ce —i t m i g ht have been supposed, I say, that the day upon which such a man was arraigned as a prisoner before this tribunal would have been to him one of bitter humi liation and unmixed regret. Strange, indeed, must have been the combination of circumstances and cruel the caprice of fortune, by which to me, who for 30 years have faithfully served my country and my Queen, the prospect of this trial has been that to which alone for many a dreary month I have been able to look forward with comfort and satisfac tion. I speak in the presence of men—of men of honour and of gentlemen—who are cspabie of ap preciating that which I have had so long to endure. To have been for months the mark of public scorn and the object of popular execration ; to know that my name had become a byword and a disgrace in the remotest corners of that country which it was my pride and my pleasure to serve in distant lands, where in dangerous climates I daily perilled a life held upon no tenure but that of England's need; to have felt that I had been made hateful to men of my own nation whom I had never known, and that Englishwomen I had never seen heard my name with horror; to have become in those English homes whose good esteem is the great reward of a soldier's arduous and ill-requited life a proverb of cruelty, cowardice, meanness, and false hood,—to know this, and to know that it is false, is an existence which might have been endurable to the monster I am sup posed to be, but which, being what I am, has all but crushed me beneath the overwhelming sense of unredreesed injustice. If any of those in whose presence I now speak should ever know—which God forbid—the bitterness of such a life, they wiil then understeed that nothing can enable a min to bear up under so great a load of misery but the con sciousness of his own innocence and the hope of a fair trial. lip to this time I have kept silence, though I was assailed by calumnies of the foulest kind, spread abroad by every artifice of unscrupu lous enemies, who have found others to repeat them, either knowing that they were false, or, what is little less culpable—not caring to learn whether they were true. What answer I have had to give I have given to my military superiors—the only tribunal to which a soldier is accountable, or before whom he is at liberty to plead. I, for one, what ever I may have sufferad, or whatever I may have yet to suffer, have resolved not to make the disci pline of her Majesty's army a topic of newspaper recrimination. I therefore held my peace till 1 was commanded by those who alone had the right to un close my lips. I have endured too much from the efforts I have made in teaching others the lesson of subordination to permit myself to transgress the first duty of a soldier—that of military obedience. _How in the dark and dreary night of calumny and / 2 : ai r nit have I longed for the day when the truth li u t be legitimately known, and when the foul v a a P e of malice and falsehood would dissolve like morning mist before the sun ! Punishment, it is said, coule e limping late behind, but, alas . I know by a terrible „ trience that justice , too, halts upon both its feet, thought of this 1 : 1 , 1 i lael the darkest hour of calumny the has sustained and comforted me, for with it I deliverance must arrive. I have yearned even ir lfor this painful remedy, as the ma n suffering under some foul corroding disease we lcomes the knife which is at length to restore him to health and to life, gut, sir, will it be be lieved that the insati a b le malice of my enemies has grudged me eve n this tardy but in evitable redress ? Can i t e credited that in tr a country England, Proverbial r for its love been it the to e me ' an ad on the eve of a judicial investigatio n t .O prisoner of the chance s of a fair trial? es The seeds of calumny a nd falsehood had been sown broadcast in the furrows of the press, and the rank crop had fructified under the congenial iiititienn_e of credulity and spite. But none knew bette r than the authors of this superstructure of mendacity h ew little it was capable of bearing the test of a fair i n . vestigation. It was necessary, therefore, to the ae. complishment of their ends to poison, if it might be, the fountains of justice, and to pervert, if not t 3 in timidate, the tribunals which were sworn to admi nister the truth. I have spoken of my enemies ; their existence will not be doubted, for their male volence and their activity sufficiently reveal their presence. They are of two classes, different in the motives which inspire their malignity, but unani mous in their desire to accomplish my destruction. The first are those whom it became my painful but paramount duty in the discharge of my military functions to punish or reprove—men whose long and obstinate habits of insubordination had taught to regard with hatred those who controlled their Passions and punished their delinquencies. You 1 7e seeu them before you ; you may judge the Spirit by which they are actuated and the end to bweheiteilatitheei,r evidence and their pre:arications have becs.use iectied. To those men my ruin is necessary, ~ n only upo my ruin that they can re ,escaveZaLont s e characters class they have forfeited. But but whom no t of enemi es who m you have not you have heard, less dirscr in their arijoitotie less animosity, but far more powerful for m i sc hief by their abhangm en e w . o These are the self-con stituted social hangm en who or x a ec t u . te . their unlovely c ffice witho ut the for sanc tion o f a eentenee—men Who, from al a jealous or th e andEY",V.OIS tem perament of mud , Seem to have a na tural and incu rable aversion of every thing a n d t o everybody that is I anywhere plac e d i n autho rity. Do not suPP that s e i ntend to di sparage or condemn the liberty of a fry© Prests•—the pride and the safeguard of a free people. 1 speak only of those who licentiously I bliee en unlimited p ower. I speak of the anonymous libellere who, like an un wholesome vermin, infest c.v.' social body, and, bur row ing into the healthy flesh, themselves create the sort !a on which they feed and fatten. I do not flat ter myself that, however bitter may be their att acke, they have thought me worthy of their per- SO' aal hatred. I know that they fly at higher game U lan a simple colonel ,cf dragoons. They find in me only an incidental instrument for attacking a system they dislike,and subverting an authoritythey abhor. To that object truth is sacrificed and justice is outraged. I am neither the first, nor shall I pro bably be the last victim of a system of detraction which seeks, by the ruin of individual reputations, to accomplish a scheme for the transfer of the con trol of the British army from the authority of the Crown to a self-appointed board of anonymous writers. For the particular individuals whom it may be necessary to sacrifice for this object they care as little, I know, as any secret revolutionary tri bunal ever did for the wretches it dismissed unheard to the scaffold, or handed ever uncondemned to the fury of the mob. Their end is the destruction of military discipline, and for that object they are not likely to stick at the ruin of personal reputations fax more considerable than mine. But, on this occa• sion, it seems to me that their sagacity has been inferior to their ability. They have miscalculated the extent to which popular prejudice may be worked upon. They have forgotten that, in the most careless minds, the sentiment of justice and of fair play is never wholly extinguished. When it was known that I was to be brought to trial, even those who had been the loudest in their cries for ven geance were shamed into sileve. The justice they had demanded was about to be awarded, and de cency required that they should at least appear to wait in patience for judgment. Such was th e sentiment of all right-feeling men, and I desire here to acknowledge the sense of fairness and justice by whi c h, in this respect, since my trial has been commenced, the respectably-con ducted portion of the English press has been distin guished. But this did not meet the views of my re lentless assailants. They were loth to lose the 'vantage -ground of slander on which they had so long triumphed unresisted. They demanded that I should be tried in England—l suppose because the English military administration in India is either unwilling or unable to dispense justice. If it be so indeed, the sooner the Indian Empire is abandoned the better. Or was it because they thought that they could here more succesafuly bring the arts of popular intimidation to bear against me ? Well, sir, I was to be tried in England. To me, so long as I had a fair trial—which I knew I should anywhere have—it signified little where the court might sit. But the last thing my enemies were dis posed to tolerate was that I should have a fair trial. They have spared no pains, they have hesitated at no artifices, to insure my condemnation before I could be heard. The evidence to be taken on this trial has been forestalled—the constitution of the court before which I was to be arraigned has been attacked. Nay, so alarmed were they lest justice should demand my acquittal, that they have de nounced by anticipation the tribunal which should dare to absolve me. They may be—nay, they are —gifted with great abilities ; but there are some things they do not know, or which, in their per verse malignity, they cennot understand. They might have learnt from simpler minds that there is a point at which injustice defeats itself, and male volence unwillingly ministers to the cause of charity. They have forgotten, if they ever knew, that, how ever much the minds of Englishmen may be warped by prejudice or perverted by misrepresentation, there is no criminal, however heinous, whom they will willingly see defrauded of fair play. I pass from this revolting theme. It has left upon the honour of English literature a stain which time will with difficulty efface. It is a transaction which, as I believe it to be without precedent, so I am sure it will be without imitators. Upon the authors of such an outrage I desire no other judgment than that which the indigna tion of their countrymen has already passed. As for me, sir, I have no cause to complain of such pro ceedings. Nay, from the bottom of my heart I have to thank these accusers, who have laid bare the spirit by which they are actuated, and the profound distrust they entertain of the merits of their cause. To be tried was ail I desired. To be fairly tried was a right of which I knew that the malice of my ene mies would be impotent to deprive me. The same reason which makes them distrust the tribunal be. tore which I stand is that which causes me to sub mit myself with eagerness to its judgment. I am an old soldier. I know courts-martial well. They are the judges which a guilty man has most reason to fear, and which an innocent man has most cause to welcome. Here I know the voice of prejudice will have no force, the influences of popular passion and private malignity will be unfelt. A soldier desires no better than to be tried by his peers. And I plead, at last, with inexpressible satisfaction and relief before a tribunal which knows by habit what are the duties of an officer, and by instinct what are the feelings of a gentleman. Have I not a right to say, even at this stage of the proceedings. that the day of my trial was to be that of my deliverance ? Are not the very charges upon which I am arraigned in themselves an acquittal upon the greater part of the odious crimes which have been laid at my door? Let us examine precisely how this matter stand, for an exact understanding of it is essential to my complete vindication. An outcry has been raised out of doors that the charges brought out against me are too limited in their character, and that I am not put upon my trial for the real pith and substance of the offences which are imputed to me. Sir, that may or may not be true. I am not the author of the imputations, nor am I the framer of the charges. If they are too limited, that is my misfortune ; it is certainly not my fault. I have respectfully requested —I have entreated—l have supplicated that those charges should be enlarged, in order that the whole of the matters of which I have been accused should be put in issue, and that so I might be allowed to prove in evidence, and put on record, the complete and satisfactory answer to them all with which I am prepared. That request has been denied me. It is not for me to complain of that denial. I am bound to believe that it is done upon good and sufficient rea sons, and I bow with submission to that authority to which I owe implicit obedience. But, if I am refused the supreme satisfaction of meeting face to face my accusers upon the thousand falsehoods which calumny has heaped upon my head, at least no right thinking, no just-judging man will deny me the benefit of that complete exculpation which such a refusal carries with it. It has happened to but few men on this side the grave to have had their conduct and character canvassed as mine has been, with every disposition to lay bare and to:magnify its delinquen cie, and its shortcomings. Every act of my life, Zet? 44 wil : word I have spoken, ha s b ee n r ans a ck e d an d Nay, the expression of my countenance has beeninutott t criticised, and the secret motives of my heart have been interpreted. When, then, I was put on vu . the whole investigated, in justly condemned, co mpletely abecaeed , eI Y trial, I had a right to demand that h b a u r t a . cter and conduct should be cyder that if I am guilty I should be if I am innocent I should be 1 ill impute to tae is so obviously j ust, that no one w m y trial that they authorities by whom I am reYti:ould have refused to lis tenput on furth er i conduct before them i n "t• They have had my me alis ; they have effer. all its a t ' to so reasonable a required telftoirheecoduitdhneyot think o r n g s e s I ;they have heard also have been so cora eale things they offering t n h l u e le a v r e e d x t p t h h l o a e u n g c a h h ti: that ahgaadintsot investigationUponall the rest e n d ot th b it right to call upon me for any further answer, or even to any further or more public justification. A moo yield to my urgency for an opportunity o f who under such circumstances stands upon his i m bu e trial has a right to say to his accusers," Speak now , or hereafter for ever hold your peace." He has a right to say, " Charge me wi th what you please, charge mo with what you can ; but, in the name of common justi ce an d c ommon hon esty, d o not keep in reserve charges which you wll not ad vance so that I may meet them, and which you will not retract so that I may have' the advantage of their withdrawal." Before, then, I proceed to re ply to the specific charges upon which I am I arraigned, I am sere that the Court will not deny me the late but solid satisfaction of registering the 1 acquittal whi c h may b e considered as already affirmed upon all the points on which I am not now called in question. The Court may be assured that I am not going into any detail upon matters whi c h are not immediately before them. Nevertheless, in common justice to a man who has been so griev ously assailed, they will permit me to note a few of the offences of which I have been publicly accused, but of which by the very terms of this indictment I am now tacitly pronounced not guilty. In the first place, I have been accused of har s h l anguage, over bearing conduct, and improper demeanour towards the officers and non-commissioned officers under my command, tending to the disquiet of my regiment and the injury of the service. If this had been true it was a high military misdemeanour, and I might I will venture to say I ought —to have been charged wlth it. Why am I not charged with it ? Have I not a right to conclude—have I not a right to de mand that others shall conclude—that upon due investigation those who have brought me to trial upon other matters found that there was no sort of foundation for these accusations ? Again, I have been accused of base, malicious, mean, false, and tyrannical behaviour in the matter of the Mhow court-martial. Is that true? If it is, why am I not charged with it now, in order that, if I am guilty, I may be punished, but if I am innocent, I may be absolved ? Sir, 1 say there is, and there can be, no other possible reason why I am not allowed to answer such a charge, except it be that those whose business it has been to call me to an account have satisfied themselves that there is no ground for the imputation. It has been said that in the Mhow court-mar tial I was guilty of persecution of the grossest cha meter, that I perverted justice; that I intimidated witnesses ; that I suborned evidence. Are such things, if they be true, not grave offences for which an officer ought to be tried, if there were even a prima facie case of suspicion against him ? Are they not heinous crimes, if they were true ? Are they not malignant libels, if they be false ? In either case, ought a man in my position not to be either charged with them at once or acquitted of them altogether? And now I am come to the accusations which have been levelled against me—viz., the mat ter of the imprisonment of the three sergeant majors; and even here I may be permitted again to claim my acquittal on the substantial matter of which I have been publicly accused. It has been said and repeated, till 'may say it has been univer sally believed, that I wickedly, cruelly, and unjustly caused three nuoffending and deserving non-com missioned officers to be imprisoned without evidence and without justification. Have I done so ? Is this, then, no offence ? It is said to be an act directly and flagrantly in contravention of the Articles of War. Then, why am I not charged with it, in order that I may be either condemned or acquitted of so grievous an offence ? Mark ! there were three sergeant-maj ors arrested—pl ace d i n c l ose arrest— in an arrest of a precisely similar kind; all upon the same evidence and for the same reasons. - With respect to two of them my conduct is not questioned in these charges. With respect to the third, the propriety of his arrest is not contraverted. It is to me a matter of deep regret that the authorities who have framed these charges have not been able to find even such a prima facie case for calling ie ques tion this transaction as would permit me to explain and to justify it. From the shape which these charges have taken I um precluded from tender ing evidence on the matter. I wish to God I could. I would then undertake to satisfy you why it was that General Farrell ordered that arrest, why Sir W. Mansfield confirmed, and why Sir Hugh Rose approved it ; why the Judge- Advocate-General of India pronounced it altogether unimpeachable ; and why, now, after the matter has been sifted to the bottom, the highest military authorities, by not calling me or any one else in question for it, have given it their final sanction. Sir, it is enough for me that those who do know the facts, and the necessity from which the apparent severity of the act arose, are satisfied of its justice and propriety. Those who, not knowing the facts, choose, in the face of such authority, to condemn me, are persons whose judgment I can afford to despise. Nor let it be supposed, for one single in stant, that in this matter I am base or cowardly enough to seek shelter myself under the cover of superior orders. I am proud of the approval of those distinguished officers, but I do not wish to decline one tittle of my share of the respon sibility for an act which was mine no less than theirs. It is true I could not have done otherwise if I would. Bat it is equally true I would not have done otherwise if I could. lam prepared, if I were only permitted to do so, to justify my acts, as my superiors I know ace persistent in the assertion of their approval ; but when I am charged with per sonal vindictiveness and individual malice against these sergeants, I have a right to rely on the autho rity of officers who are beyond the reach of such imputations. If I owed a grudge to Sergeant- Major Lilley, did General Farrell, did Sir W. Mans field, did Sir Hugh Rose share so wicked and despi cable a sentiment ? If I was harsh, tyrannical, oppressive, in my conduct towards those sergeants, do these epithets apply to the commander of the !dhow division, to the commander of the army of the Presidency of Bombay, or the commander-in chief of the army of India ? If so, why have they not been suspended from their posts ? Why are they not at this moment standing at the bar of this tribunal ? But if officers such as these were capable, upon precisely the same evidence, and for exactly the same reasons, of arriving at the conclusion that the course which I adopted was justifiable and right, I think I have some reason to claim that those who are not acquainted with the facts of the ease should, in candour, allow that my act does not deserve to be condemned. It is impossible for me to vouch the sanction of these great names with out paying to them the public tribute of my grati tude and admiration. It is in the hour of danger, and the crisis of misfortune, that a subordinate officer who has dared to do his duty learns to value and esteem the superiors on whom he can rely. No man who has had the honour to serve under Sir Hugh Rose or Sir W. Mansfield can say that thee ever betrayed him. Fortunate, sir, are the officers who have the honour to serve under such chiefs, and fatal will be the day when theßritish army has to look to any other source for judgment on its acts than the censure or approval of its military supe riors. Fatal indeed will be the result when officers serving the Queen in distant lands shall have to look, not to their own conscience of right—not to their own sense of duty—not to the orders of those under whose authority they are placed—but to the ephemeral ideas of what is falsely called public opinion, but which, in fact, is nothing more than the ignorant judgment of ill-informed and irrespon sible writers, by whose denunciations or applause their fortune or their disgrace is to be decided. Then, sir, no man in authority will dare to do his duty, for he will feel that he is at the mercy of in terested calumniators, setting in motion the treache rous engines of anonymous slander. There is no fear that under such men as Sir H. Rose and Sir W. Mansfield such a system should be inaugurated. They know well what is necessary to the discipline of the English army and to the maintenance of the Indian Empire. They know that the dominions of the Queen in Hindostan are held by a military tenure, and that the basis of that military tenure is military discipline. They have seen one mutiny, and they have quelled it. They know not of what begin nings Una dire cataclasm burst forth. They know how the dykes of discipline were broken down, and ithe , flood of mutiny overwhelmed us un awares. It began by pampering the insubordi nation of non-commissioned officers, and it ended in those scenes of dread and horror which are Commemorated on the stones which cover the wall Of Cawnpore. Men who have witnessed such a calamity are not likely to be careless of the symp toms which h era ld ano th er . Th ose w h o h ave c h a rg e °f a Powder magaz i ne d o not l oo k at spar k s w i t h severity is t nee. know that in such eases an early he t: tr u e s t adlisbh oe n ra i d. e i r a c ca y ti , ioos and they punish the orde rfi tu tt t l h g iny w a n t ai t t h h ° re bYl : may not have finally to suppress soldiersw.riters from may the criticise e guns. their measure, b et . arrest may m st a r y i'3t b il e es a s se vereinik is better than blowing your of Mansfield are the self-same Ignorant and irresponsible acts and calumniate t h e i r policy—but We know that those who clamour against the severity 'THE STIN, LONDON, FRIDAY EVENING, DECEMBER IA, 1863. men who denounced the clemency of Canning. We know that it is the shortsighted and the panic stricken wbo, acting on momentary impulses, are lax in the hour of security only to become cruel in the instant of danger. It is they alone who have the wisdom to be severe in time who have the cou rage to be merciful when severity can be safely dispensed with. Sir, to the full and proper under standing of this transaction, it is most material and relevant —as, indeed, the Court has deliberately de cided—to understand what was the condition of the 6th Dragoons at the time when these events took place. My justification, and that of those under whose authority I acted, consists in this—that the regiment at the time of the court-martial on Mr. Smales, and of the arrest of the three sergeant majors, was in a state ofiinsubordiaation, as respects certain of the officers and non-commissioned officers, of the most dangerous character. That which I could have proved if I had been permitted, now that I am debarred of the means of proof I will take upon me to re-assert. What the condition of the regiment was when it came into my hands I would, had I been allowed, have demonstrated out of that letter to Colonel Shute. I would have proved it out of Sir Hugh Rose's historical memoir of the 6th Dragoons. But, sir, even in the absence of this most material document, I am not wholly without the means of satisfying you, to some extent, of that which I should have been glad more fully to have demonstrated. In the course of this weary inquiry you have had some means of judging of the materials with which I had to devi, and the diffi culties I had to encounter. You will judge by your own eyes, you will judge by your own ears—above all, you will judge as officers and gentlemen, by that inborn sense of honour which is more conclusive than reasoning, and more irresistible than logic. I speak to a body of men many of whom are, all of whom have been, commanding officers. You have seen some of my officers : You have seen, you have heard enough, I think, of the men who have so com ported themselves in a court of justice to judge of what must have been my situation on the parade and in the mess room. I ask you, after what you have seen, to place your selves as commanding officers in my position, and to judge me as you would in like circumstances yourselves claim to be judged. Whoever else it was, sir—it is clear it was not I—who educated these officers in their ideas of what was due to military discipline and to the authority of the ?supe riors by whom they might happen to be reprimanded. These were not officers of my teaching any more than Mr. Fite. simon was an adjutant of my choosing. You w i ll readily believe that, when disaffection has become chronic among the officers, it is not long before the infection begins to spread among those immediately below them, who ought to look up to them as an example. Of all the forms of insub ordination, that which descends from above into the ranks is the most fatal and incurable. Those who ought to be safeguards against mutiny are become themselves the pro pagators. What lesson do you think the sergeants of the regiment were likely to learn from such instructors? In subordinate officers naturally seek allies against their colo nel by tampering with the non-commissioned officers of the regiment. The regim en t a l sergeant major and the t wo o th er sergeant majors had b een successfully enlisted by th e ca b a l in conspiring to overt h row m y authority. Th e b o d y of the regiment, it is true, was still sound. The discipline of the troops was intact. But the crisis had arrived, the danger was imminent; one step more and the flame might have kindled in the ranks, and the famous regiment of In- niskilling Dragoons would have broken out into open mu tiny. Sir, I took those measures which such a condition of things seemed to me to require. I knew what was my duty, and I did it without fear and without favour. How rapidly the process of deterioration of discipline takes place in a re giment under the influence of tropical climates and tropical habits no one wbo has not experience of Indian military life can form any conception. The measures which are necessary to enforce discipline elsewhere are there ten times more ne cessary. I may bo permitted to quote on this subject the language of a great civilian who knew India well :—" A strong line of demarcation must be drawn between soldiers and the rest of the community. They must be subject to a sharper code and a more stringent form of procedure than are administered by the ordinary tribunals. For of all ma ladies incident to the body politic military insubordination is that which requires the most prompt and drastic reme dies." These are the true and striking words of Lord Ma caulay. I acted on those principles with that instant, ne cessary, and justifiable severity which, in my firm belief, alone prevented a great catastrophe. In a position of unex ampled difficulty, I acted with a prudence and circumspection in which I have nothing to regret. I took the course which wisdom dictated and the rules of the service prescribed. I did nothing on my own unassisted judgment. I consulted at once my military superiors. I took evidence, as you have heard, from credible witnesses and from the culprits them selves. I took it in my orderly-room in the presence of the adjutant and two other officers. I wish I could lay that evi dence before you as I laid it before General Farrell, who sub mitted it to Sir W. Mansfield. From that moment I deferred to their judgment, which I unfeignedly knew to be better than my own, and I acted in strict accordance with their directions, not more from a sense of military duty than from a profound confidence in their superior wisdom. I was ready at the time—l was always ready—to have proceeded to the trial of these men. If they were not tried it was nons of my doing. If the question of the propriety of that arrest, been ready—and anx i ous t o try it. and the justice of the decision of my superior with re f erence to it is not now tried, that again is none of my d o i ng . I am ready—l alway s have Sir, the question which lies at th e roo t o f thi s w h ole matter is the q uestion of mutiny or no muti n y. Th a t i s th e k ey to the whole business, and you a re as k e d t o un l oc k t h e mystery while the key is withheld from you. Sir, again, that is no doing of mine. I would have laid before you the evidence which I laid before my immediate superiors, and upon my conscience I know that that evidence would have satisfied you, as it abundantly sati s fi e d th em , T hen you would have been in a position to pronounce upon the real merits of the case. You would have been able by your finding to have satisfied a nation whose judgment has been perverted by falsehood and blinded by calumny, that nothing has been done either by me or by those whose approval I have earned which was not consistent with justice and essen tial to discipline, which was not necessary to maintain the organisation of the British army, and therein to maintain the integrity of the Indian Empire. It, Sir, this wider and more real issue is not p resented i fer your immedi a t e adjudi cation, I deeply regret t ; that it is not is, as you know, no fault of mine. And now, Sir, I come speoiflcally to con sider the two charges on which I am here arraigned, and on which you are asked to pronounce your sentence. Th e gtl fi e r n stc e h m a a rg n e , and is' "for conduct unbecoming an o ffi cer an d a to the prejudice of good order and military discipline, in having caused the order for the close arrest of Regimental Sergeant Major Lilley to be carried into effect with unrecessary and undue severity, whereby the said sergeant major and his wif e were su bj ected to great and grievous hardsh ips." Colonel Crawley then pro ceeded at great length to analyse the evidence, which is now familiar to our readers, and pointed out how that adduced by the prosecution, so far from supporting the charges, completely refuted them. The case, he said, had been treated as one of peculiar military barbarity—but, he asked, in what respect the execution of military law differed from that of civil sentences. Did a judge, in passing sen tence, take into account the circumstances of an offender's personal position in determining the measure of punish. ment when inflicted upon him P Did he he ask what was his habit of body, or what was the exercise he was used to ? or did he inquire whether he had a wife, and if she was sick ? Equality of sentence for similar offaeces was the rule of both civil and military tribunals. Equality of ope ration upon the offender was beyond the reach of human justice. He arrested the three sergeant-majors for the same misconduct, the same evidence, and they were all sub jected to the same restraint. Why, then, was that which in the case of Sergeant-majors Wakefield and Duval was not balled in question, made a subject of accusation in that of Sergeant-major Lilley? On the contrary he thought it would appear that if anything was to be laid to his charge it was rather an excess of leniency than an exaggeration of severity. Of the three prisoners confined, two were placed in an arrest equally strict, with this aggravation in their punishment, that, being single men, their confinement was solitary. If, upon the receipt of the orders from his supe riors, he had sent Mrs. Lilley to the female hospital, and had placed Sergeant-major Lilley in the same arrest as that in which the two other sergeant majors were confined, who could have said that he had exceeded his orders ? But he knew the circumstances of the case, and he deliberately ab stained from exercising a severity which seemed to him ex treme and unn ecessar y. Having di s p ose d o f the question of the bungalows, and shown that they were in no respect unfit places for confinement, he strongly impressed on the Court that in no instance had Mrs. Lilley's privacy been outraged, and that the placing of the sentries inside the house was not for the purpose of annoyance but to protect them from the heat of the sun. He dwelt on the culpable neglect of AdjutantFitzsimon in having never seen the sen tries properly posted, and denied that the officer had given a true version either of the orders which were given concern ing the arrest in the first instance, or of the alleged subse quent conversation in the orderly-room. The evidence of Surgeon Turnbull he in like manner impugned as unworthy of credit; and, with regard to the general character of Ser geant Major Lilley declared that the charges had nothing whatever to do with it. If it had been a material issue, he thought they had heard enough to know that they were in possession of only half the case ; but as to the circumstances of Sere eaut Major Lilley's de a th, h e asked if i t were not plain, beyond all manner of doubt, that there wa s on th e part of Surgeon Turnbull at least a deliberate design, by a suppressio yen and a sugyestio falsi, to saddle him with personal responsibility for the death of that unfortunate man? He denied in tote corroborating the evidence of Lieutenant Davies on the point that Surgeon Turnbull had applied for a coroner's inquest en the body and—quoting, in support of his statement, the addendum to the medical report, and the testimony of Lance Corporal Holman— maintained that the predisposing cause to Sergeant M Lilley's death was the quantity of spirits which he drank during his confinement. It had been said that Sergeant Major Lilley took the brandy during his arrest owing to depression of spirits. But was a commanding officer re sponsible because a prisoner was depressed by a just punish ment, or because he took an exeess of liquor in conscquencEP He then dwelt on the absence of all complaint by Sergeant Major Lilley, and the sympathy evinced towards him by the men of the Inniskillings on his leaving Mhow to be tried by court martial in England, and thus concluded : Sir, there is one question which I think, at the close of this long in quiry, can hardly fail to be made : Whence did this mass of falsehood originate Who organised this foul conspiracy ? Who invented, who propagated, who connived at, the story of the "bomb-proof oven and the Black Hole of Calcutta?" Who was the ingenious inventor of the indignities to Mrs. Lilley ? Who thought or the " functions of nature performed in the presence of strange men ?" These sort of stories don't invent themselves. They have an author somewhere. I have not the honour of Mr. For tescue's acquaintance, but I have no reason to doubt that he i= a gentleman in every way worthy of the noble name he bears. I give him every credit for having sincerely be lieved the statements he was induced to make; but I think he cannot, and he will not, let this matter rest where it is. He has vouched witnesses in the ,oreyence of Parliament for the truth of assertions which are now proved to have been wholly false. The honour of Mr. Fot tescue seems to me to demand, the dignity of Parliament seems to require, that he should help to expose the fraud of which he has been the dupe. The country is in the habit of taking for granted assertions thus vouched in public by honourable men. When such men have been deceived they owe it to themselves and to others to give up their authority. I think Mr. Fortescue will feel he owes me some explanation of this matter to the officer he has so cruelly wronged, and to the nation ha has so expensively misguided. And, Sir, what I say of Mr. Fortescue, I say also of the nobler portions of the English press. They have inflicted on me great suffering and irre parable injury, but I believe they have done it unwittingly. It is, I know, the high and honourable function of a free press to call for justice upon wrongdoers, and to defend the cause of the innocent. I have no doubt that in what they have done they thought they were acting upon reliable in formation and performing a paramount duty. But I think they owe it to themselves and to the public to put others on their guard against those who have thus deceived them. I think that, when this trial is over, they will consider that there is some reparation to be made, and that there remains another injustice to redress. The press of India in this respect has already set an honourable example. The Times of India, which was one of my bit terest opponents, has expressed in the most honourable manner its regret at having given credence to the volumes of correspondence with which Mr. Smales had plied it. They sat, and they say it truly, "It is the fact, we fear, that the late Sergeant Major Lilley was more the victim of Paymaster Smales than of Colonel Crawley." I know, Sir, there are journals of another stamp who will continue to repeat exploded falsehoods and to reproduce refuted slan der. But I heed them not. These are not the legitimate exponents of the sentiments of a just and generous nation— a nation which is honourably vehement in its indignation against supposed oppression, but which is equally frank in its repentance for unintentional injustice. And now, sir, this long and tedious address must have an end. Forgive me if I have wearied you, Remember what a spring tide of obloquy I have had to roll back, and to crowd into a few hours a defence against months of calumny. Permit me, before I close, to tender to the prosecution my acknow ledgment of the fairness and courtesy with which they have performed a painful duty. That fairness and that courtesy I know I had a right to expect both from the official posi tion and the personal character of the gentlemen who have conducted it. But it is not the less fitting that I should here acknowledge it. I trust they will pardon any impa tience which I may have exhibited in a long and anxious struggle. And now, sir. this contest is over. I have fought a battle which is not mine alone, but that of everyone who may be similarly placed. I have fought the battle of the English army against secret conspiracy and anonymous slander. There is no one so high whom such treacherous blows may not reach , there is no one so low that he can escape this crawling venom, If in exhibiting the triumph of truth and exposing the machinations of falsehood I shall have contributed to deter men from the repetition of such attempts; if from this example others shall have learnt not to give too ready an ear to imputations upon the honour of absent men serving their country abroad; if the experience of this trial shall make such another event impossible—the English army and the English nation will have gained by my loss; and, much as I have suffered, I shall have the satisfaction of feeling that I have at least not suffered in vain. I have fought this gigantic battle, and I have fought it alone. I have fought it with no friend but Truth, and no protector but the All-knowing and the All mighty. My enemies' name is Legion ; bur, against such defence their malignity was impotent for harm. They have sought my shame, and they have accomplished their own. They have attempted my ruin; I will not deny them the satisfaction of knowing that they will have partly succeeded. The cost of this tremendous struggle will have exhausted that slender fortune which is the only provision of those who are dearer to me than myself. Sir, let them enjoy their triumph ; it is the only one they will obtain. They may have ruined my fortune; my reputation is beyond their reach. They have filched from me what is but trash; it will be for you to give me back that without which 1 am poor indeed. My part is done : yours yet remains. I know what your sentence must be, because it will ba in accord ance with the evidence, and according to the truth. I can not hope that you will in every detail consider my conduct faultless. I cannot expect that in the long course of these trying events you may not discover in my behaviour, under unexampled difficulties, some errors of judgment and some defects of temper. I can only say, let those who are with out such sins cast at me the first stone. But of these grave and serious charges I know you must absolve me, for I know lam innocent of them. You will give me back my character ; you will give me back my sword—a sword which has been for thirty years—aye, and which shall be again— at the service of a nation at whose hands, in the language of the charge, I have suffered "great and grievous hard ships." You will redeem what remains to me of life from dishonour, and you will rescue my memory from disgrace. Sir, I wait the sentence of the Court. Loud and general applause marked the close of the ad dress. It occupied two hours and three-quarters in delivery, and was listened to throughout with unflagging attention both by the members of the court and the general public. Not a few were affected at that portion of it where Colonel Craw;ey spoke of the ruin which would be entailed on his fortunes, no matter how the inquiry might end; and Mrs. Crawley, who was dressed in deep mourning and sat a little way from her husband, was observed to draw her veil over her face to conceal her emotions. A number of officers were then called, who gave evidence of the character borne by Colonel Crawley from the time of being a gentleman cadet in the Royal Military College at Sandhurst, more than 30 years ago, up to the period of his leaving the 15th Hussars, a few years since. All spoke in the highest terms of his great professional merit as an offi cer, and of the high honour and kindness of heart which characterised him as a gentleman. Letters were also read from Mijor Tench and Capt. Geo. Macartney, who were unable to attend personally. On the conclusion of this evidence, which was of the most unequivocal character, Colonel Crawley said—l have no more witnesses to call, though I might call several, and I beg, with the per mission of the Court, to say that my defence is now con cluded. The prosecutor intimated that he should be prepared to make his reply at 12 o'clock to-morrow (this day), to which time the Court was then adjourned. - -- THE GREAT SHIP. Yesterday the first meeting in connexion with the affairs of the Great Ship Company since it has been consigned to the custody of the Court of Chancery for the purpose of in. vestigating and winding up the affairs was held before Mr. G. Whiting, chief clerk to the Master of the Rolls, at the Rolls-chambers, in Chancery-lane, the object being to ap point an official liquidator under the Joint-Stock Companies Winding. up Act. Mr. Hutchins, of the firm of Murray, Son, and . Hutchins, said he had to propose Mr. Hawes, the late chairman of the shareholder's committee, of Skinner's place, Sise-lane, to act as official liquidator in behalf of the company. The total number of shares in favour of Mr. Hawes's appointment amounted to 30,000. The total num ber of shares in the company was 300,000 ordinary and 100,000 preference shares. There were creditors to the ex tent of £25,000, the total amount of debts being £35,000, excluding a first mortgage of £lOO,OOO, and a second mort gage. The total debts of the company, including unsecured creditors, were £142,850. Mr. Dantziger, the assistant secretary of the company, in his affidavit, stated that the nominal capital of the company was originally £330,000 in shares of £1 each, but only 303,304 shares were taken up; 100,000 preference shares of £1 each were subsequently issued, making the aggregate subscribed capital £103,304. The assets of the company consisted of the great ship, her stores and appurtenances, the office furniture in London, and the arrears of calls due, amounting to £530, which were believed to be irrecoverable. Mr. Bradlaugh, of the firm of Leverson and Co., St. Helen's place, Bishopsgate-street, proposed Mr. J. Cooper, of the firm of Johnstone, Wintle, and Cooper, of Lothbury, as official liquidator, and objected to the appointment of Mr. Hawes, who, until the last meet , ing of the company, was a shareholder in the company. Mr. Hawes had for some time past been in constant dis pute with the largest shareholders, the bondholders, and directors, and had spoken in violent opposition to the policy of the late directors. Mr. Hawes had declared that ho was pledged to carry the great steamship on the long voyage to India, and had made arrangements with persons who were prepared to advance funds t..) carry out that object. Mr. Rose, solicitor, of Salisbury-street, Strand, proposed the appointment of Mr. R. P. Harding, of Serle•street and Lothbury, to be official liquidator on be half of Mr. Anderton Rose, Ml' , the Into Lord Mayor, a holder of 250 paid-up shares and a debenture for £lOO, and, h a creditor for overdue bills of £Bl3 from the time o ev etic e al they were dishonoured. Mr. Harding was a g°°drLin. of accountant, and perfectly conversant with th Of all parties winding-up. He was, moreover, independent amount both for the and in a position to realise the largestfount of assets by the good mluagemint and conduct of he contended, was creditors and the public. Mr. disqualified for the office of official liquidator by reason of his close connection with the company's affairs, The Chief Clerk, in the course of a long summing up, said he was of opinion that Mr. Hawes ought to be appointed official liqui dator, His knowledge of the company's affairs well quali fied him for the office, and he appeared to possess the suf frages of the largest number of the shareholders. Mr. Hawe., was accordingly appointed official manager, giving £3,000 as security, it being understood that an appeal against the ap pointment would be made in favour of associating with the official liquidator either Mr. Harding or Mr. Cooper. SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS. TlriEs.—On Monday last we recorded the perpe tration of a shocking murder in the Waterloo-road ; on the next day we reported the examination of tne murderer at the Southwark Police court; on Wed nesday we published the proceedings of the Coro ner's inquest on the victim; and yesterday our readers saw that the prisoner had been brought to trial, had pleb deal guilty, and had been sentenced to death. So rapid has bee❑ the course of justice in this case that the offender has actually been con demned to the gallows before the corpse of his un happy victim has bee❑ committed to tte grave. Toe deed itself presents in its immediate circumstances only the ordinary features of such crimes. Samuel Wright, described as a bricklayer by trade, had cohabited, it seems, for some little time with a woman named Maria Green, and they had occupied together the second floor of a lodging-house in the Waterloo-road. On Saturday last a dressmaker who rented the first floor of the house, and who was acquainted with Wright and his companion, saw them "very happy and comfortable" together in their own room, about S o'clock in the evening. Shortly afterwards they went out, and were seen standing for a time at the corner of the York-road, where the deceased was exchanging angry words with another woman. They left this woman, however, and re paired to a publichouse, where they bad some gin; but, though the deceased remained " excitea" after her quarrel, neither she nor her paramour is said to have been intoxicated. Nothing more was known of their proceedings up the time of the catastrophe. At what hour they returned to their lodgings is un certain ; but about. 4 o'clock on Sunday morning the lodger on the floor beneath them was alarmed by a loud knocking and screaming overhead. As she opened her door she met Wright coming down the stairs, and his appearance betrayed the dreadful work in which he had been eagsgtd. His sleeves were tucked up, his arm was bloody, and his look altogether so shocking that the witness nearly fainted. She contrived, however, to ask what was the matter, and Wright told her, as she fancied, to( go upstairs and see. She did so, and found the woman Green lying on the floor with her throat cut, and just able to articulate feebly that , Wright. had committed the deed. A policeman was soon fetched, and Wright, who had remained in the house without attempting to escape, and who ac knowledged himself the perpetrator of the crime, was take❑ into custody. That a quarrel originat ing in jealousy had led to the deed seems suffi ciently probable, and the scene witnessed in the York-road would appear to indicate that the jealousy was on the side of the woman. Otherwise, the evi dence represented them living together quietly, and with habits so generally regular as to sug gest the impression that they were man and wife. It required, however, a singular combination of cir cumstances to give this extraordinary rapidity to the course of justice. The time of the murder hap pened to coincide with the sitting of the Court, and the self-surrender of the prisoner prevented any delay. As he made no effort to escape, no time was lost in apprehending him; and as he confessed his guilt, there was no necessity for the collection of evidence. It was not, indeed, to be denied that his hand had deprived the woman of life, and he appears to have advisedly discarded the shelter pos sibly derivable from inquiry into his state of mind at the time. He was at first undefended by counsel, but Mr. Sleigh appeared on his behalf before his sentence, though after his first plea of " guilty," and expressed an opinio❑ that the plea might be advantageously retracted. The prisoner, however, deliberately refused to recall his words, or take such chance of deliverance as the forms of taw might give him ; and Mr. Justice Blackburn, after assuring himself of the man's intelligence and purpose, passed the sentence of death in due course, The case will long be memorable from the strange though fortuitous brevity of its history,though this is not without precedent in criminal annals. The capture, indeed of a murderer red-handed during the sittings of a Court would naturally lead to such a result. It appears to us, however, that a remedi able feature of the occurrence is presented in the contrast between the barbarous violence of the act And the general demeanour of the criminal. Wright, who committed this shocking murder, had never, ii seems, till that time occasioned any disturbance or disorder in the house which ho and his paramour in habited, and no sooner was the deed done than he ap pears in possession of his senses, recognising the cha racter of the act, foreseeing consequences, and pre paring himself to accept them without any kind of opposition. What were the circumstances which hurried him into crime? There was a quarrel, Do doubt, and as the woman had been " excited," and they did not apparently go to bed that night after coming in, they proceeded probably from one stage of blood to another; indeed, the prisoner spoke of the deceased as having taken up a knife to him. Still, though quarrels are naturally incidental to such a life as they led, they do not seem to have beers given to quarelling ; in fact, this awful catastrophe represents, as far as we can see, the first and last of their known disagreements. Perhaps it was in these circumstances that Mr. Sleigh discerned the chance of an advantage, had the prisoner chosen to embrace it, and the ease no doubt acquires additional singu larity from his resolute refusal. A plea of " Guitty" on a capital charge is so rare that it is not eve❑ re ceived without question. In the present instance the judge twice asked the prisoner if he knew what he was about, and explained carefully to him that by pleading " Guilty" he was confessing not simply that he inflicted the wounds of which his victim died, but that he did this deed wilfully and without excuse. The Clerk of Arraigns, too, had previously reminded the prisoner that his plea went the length of an admission that he had killed the woman " pur posely and with malice aforethought," and yet he still persisted in his course. To the public it will not improbably appear that the malice could not well have been harboured long, and that the recorded incidents of the case by no means exclude the possibility of a sudden transport of rage under provocation or temptation. Yet it must be observed, -on the other hand, that the pri soner was never seen for a moment either before or after the murder in any such state of mind as would betray a suspension of self-control. Before the act he was not intoxicated, nor was he shown to have been even excited, and though he was seen and spoken to within a minute or two afterwards, and, indeed, while his victim was still living, his manner indicated no discomposure. If there was an interval of frenzy, it was when no witness wee by. The Judge, therefore, could find nothing in the depositions requiring him to reverse the plea of self-condemnation, and his sentence did but echo that passed by the prisoner on himself. These are the circumstances, rather than any particulars of the crime itself, which render the story a strange one, and which will carry it probably into the list of criminal cases which are marked ano rememb , red. Posr.—The most singular feature of the Schles wig-Holstein movement in Germany is the remark able revulsion which it has effected in the relations between the Prussian people and their Sovereign. When William I. convened the Chambers at Berlin, in the commencement of November, a con test apparent imminent, in which nothing less than unconditional submission on the part of the advisers of the Crown could stave off a revolution. 'l he King had already within a year dissolved two Parliaments in consequence of their refusal to sanction measures which he believed to be conducive to the interests of the State; and h meeting the third he unequi vocally announced that he should consider himself the best judge of the manner in which the State should be administered, and of the means by which its safety should be secured. Of the result of such a struggle as that invited by the Prussian Monarch, the experience of past hiwoory left no room for doubt, and the well-wishers of the House of Hohenzollern viewed with alarm the recklessness which marked the conduct of its present head. However, whilst the Ministry, with their scanty supporters, and the popular leaders, with the over whelming phalanx wilicla constituted the Opposi tion in the Lower Chamber, were preparing for the approaching contest, an event occurred which coo!: pietely banished from the rnieds of the le itnr e l a i l ia l thought of the grievances which they came to " r accord to redress. The King of Denmark died, Pu a ssia herself ing to the terms of a treaty to whidellec l _ to the throne, was a party, Christian IX, sue i c l e ;act, the succession certainand in Prince of Angus Holstein--and some portione' of Although, both in law i ions—narnel was thus accomplished. a _al claim to a d ll o y m - T th the late King of Denmark!' tenburg thought proper tdo, Duchies of Schleswig p o wers an formally the minor German hyadrecognised the Pio sooner justice of his clatin!• the , . these preten sions been advancod than Prussian People and the ' Prussian Deputies forthwith postponed the vindi cation of their own rights, Which up to time ha d that time ha d been so seriously threatened I )e the Crown, in or der to support the claims of th Augus tenburg. Whilst Fredericke Prince of ,Vii o f Denmark lived, the Prussian King in vai n - plies to maintain his a- asked for additional sup scale of befi; tin rn any on what he conaidered a that monarch tt g ie agnitub 3 but since the death of Prussian Cnamh,rs have evince° a readiness to vote on noaditio_ that vote might be demanded, i n t0 ,,,_ u tee supplies should be expo/hied Lawry operations against Frederick's kUteel3- . sor. It would, however, be incorrect to say that peace is again established between the Government and the Chamber. Such is not the case. Count Bismark has still a powerful Opposition with wntch to contend, but on this occ,sion his oppoiulats are arrayed :against him in const-gernce of his pursuing polity which has met with the epprovt.l of every non-Get man State in Europe. Count Bismark has declared it to be the intention of the Prus sian Government to respect international obli gations, and to observe faithfully a treat to which, after duo deliberation, and without coercion, it formally assented. It is singular that it should he one of the few tic's of the Bismark Ministry which can be supported by hont-st And impartial men which now plat a that Government 91,d the Liberal party in Prussia in apparently uncom promising opposition. The Condemned Murderer, Towitley. After sentence of death had been passed upon Townley, on Saturday, he was removed to a private room in the County Hail, where he made a hearty dinner immediately afterwards. Townley's mother and aunt v, ere in the Sheriffs gallery during the trial, but when Baron Martin w is bringing his summing up to a close, Mr. Bourner, the acting under-sheriffs' clerk, made a communica tion to them, and t'.:ley withdrew, proceeding to the County Hotel, close by. The statement that Townley's father was in court during the passing o f toe sentence is incorrect. He had sat beside bis solicitor, Mr. Leech, during the trial, bur happene d to be out of court at the time the jury gave in their verdict, and was thus spared the anguish of bearing his son condemned to die upon the scaffold. On th e intelligence being broke to Mrs. Townley, she iva a completely prostrated, and Mr. Gibson was ca lled in to attend her. The condemned criminal was got away from the court by a ruse on the part of the governor, and h is departure was not witnessed by the dense mob who had congregated outside the court. On arriving at the gaol his clothes were taken from him and f•h e prison dress substituted, and law was conveyed to the condemned cell, where two turnkeys remain with him day and night. His father and mother 13;-.,el interview with him the same evening, and we be lieve Mr. Mundy, M.P., chairman of the visiting justices, has given them permission to pay frequen t visits to their unhappy son, a privilege which tadi avail themselves of very freely, In addition to the assistance of the good chapla:o: Townley has the privilege of selecting a spiritol adviser during the brief time he has to live, and h e , mentioned the name of the Rev. Mr. Gordo°, 01 Nlanchester, a clergyman of the Esttiblished Churc h ' end that gentleman arrived in Derby or Menus)" morning last, and had an interview with him ia hie cell on that day and also on Tuesday. The Rev. 3lr Moore, the gaol chaplain, also visits him daily. His condemnation bas not made the slightest alte ration in his demeanour. He partakes of his we als heartily, sleeps well, and repeatedly asserts that be was perfectly justified in taking away his victitae life, and that he feels no remorse for the deed. We understand his friends are actively eng a g e— , in getting up memorials to the Home Secretarsl 11,° only from Derby, but also from Manchester. 'f course the royal clemency is asked on the groun d° insanity, and it is stated that the memorial will be influentially supported by medical men and the general public. The High Sheriff has fixed the execution to tta e place at noon on Friday, the Ist day of Janu ar y (New Year's-day), the interval between the sentence and execution being rather more protracted tha n is usually the case. COUNTRY MARKETS. , MANCHESTER—THURSDAY. At our market this morning the English wheat offerini sold slowly at is per qr lower. Foreign met a very liwitea business, at 2d to 3,4 per 1001bs decline for all but the choicest sorts. Flour a slow sale, although offered at ar e ", duction of 6d to is per sack. Oats and oatme al very dull' Indian corn Gd per qr in favour of buyers. Beans receded 6d to is per qr from this day se'nnight. BRISTOL—THURSDAY. We had a good supply of English wheat today, which again sold slowly, at a decline of fully le per quarter on Wilt week's rates; for foreign wheat scarcely any inquiry. aLI nominally at last Tbursday'a prices. Barley quiet, at la'e rates. Oats met a slow trade, but were iu good supply• 13 eaus and Indian corn without inquiry. IPSWICH-TUESDAY. Supplies of Vat at continue moderate, and farmers ore reluctant sellers at any decline. The supply of barley il m° fallen off very considerably. Old white wheat..44s to 49s Old red wheat, to 4? New do. ..46s to 48 s I New do. 4ls to 41 , 5 , Alalting bar1ey....345 to 38s I Oats. 22s to Ob Grinding d0.....28s to 3 1 s I Beans 36S to 37 BIRMINGHAM—THURSDAY. Wheat was in fair supply to-day, and sales were made P 3 very little change in prices , and with a limited 0'1,1; English wheat was sold at 41s to 45s for white , and- to 43s per 36 stone for red, Barley, new malting, 30 sto 40s per qr ; grinding, 26 s to 30 s Oats, old, 24s to per 30 stone; Irish, 18s to 245. Beans, 40s to 44s per (1 r Peas, 36s to 44s per 36 atone. EDINBURGH GRAIN—DEc. 16. ot 1° A fair supply of farmers' wheat to-day, which r E t slow sale at is to 2s per qr lower than the prices ' 3 f oe r week. Barley was also in slow demand, and pt ices 4 nn' lower. Oats dull, and is down. Beans and peas We" altered. Aid° ll. Wheat on the top 4s 6d down average 2 s do wo• Barley on the top Os 6d down ag ee 0 3 ,1 1 do" Oats on the top is down... do wny Beans on the top 3s 6d down average 3s v't aavveerrao: Total Supply and Sales. Wheat ... 76,1 qrs Sold .501 ( 1V Barley... 2685 qrs Sold 1737 (1 11 ' Oats • Beans 164 qrs Sold 101 grs pd . Flour . Flour sells as follows : — Whites, 408 Od ; extras, ..,-- superfine, 36s Od ; fine, 34s W. f d qu an , Bed Pos corn seal Thy B. Cap Oct CO; Cori atil Yol of 1 cas COE 'LOC ha WY str Al It, Pi 01 Foreign Mail Packet List. MAILS DUE. .DeC. 19. Australia and Mau r itiu s , vi a Southartipton...•• •.Jan, 12. via Marseilles . ...... • .Jan. 4. drazil and Cape Verds, by British packet. ........p c. 29. Cape of Good Hope, Ascension, and St. Helen" . • 19. I .;hiva, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampt tt:.l-cee. via Marseilles .• Falkland Islands G ibraltar, via Southampton .................. 131 „ eC : 19 India (Calcutta), and Ceylon, via lr'outharapton• • I''' , 27 via Marseiliesi...•Dec. -el. india (Bombay), via Southampton ........... . 11- il ec e VI. via Marseilles ........ '''' (3-• 4. Portuga1.... Malta, Egypt, and Aden, via Southampton ...... I)e'' 2 1 via Marseilles ........ De'. .23. D ec, Newfoundland . • Oporto and Vigo . .............. , 0 0 U. S. and British N. America, Ly Brit. packe r ... • • by U.S. i.acket .. • ..,i, o. Is. by Canadian packc!•-v, n• 10. W.C. of Africa, Madeira, and Tencrille .......... ''3—. Jan. 14. Bahamas, via New York .ptc• -, 9 Mexico • • • . 1 9. All parts of West Indies, including Chili, Peru, t Dec. ' California. and British Columbia.. ...... ...• / 00; 14' No HOME complete without a WILCOX AND A. 1.,19 ~ , SEWING-MOHINE. Simple, compact, efficient, clura'—' a a noiseless. Warranted to fulfil ail the requireiaten t9 at perfect family machine. Prospectus fre e on app No. No. 135, Regent-street, W.—[A.Drr.] Births. BLIRTsToN,—On the 13th inst.. at Helling , on, near Sot. Leonare's-on-Sea, the wife of CetiMeader reY t° the wife of Robert Offord, Blakiston, R.N., of a son. DAVIS.—On the 16th inst., at 8, Cornwall-villas, Weot; bourne-park, the wits of M. Moulton Davis, Eig., I BOIL who OFFORD.--00 the 16th inst., at 1 p —villas,-villas, Marriages. m c , 10 0 Tu y l roW—TAYLOR. — On the 17th inst., at t. ~.-'- h , s t., an d Grosvenor-park, penmark•bill, Mr Richard Hayhow, of Fenc hurc olo' Taylor, Esq.,of rii wit:went' 1 d D C .1 sPi"Y -P s- ane, an e r- . S utb. , ~„a b t' S., to Alice, third daughter of " ~,.. PARSONS—PEILE.—On the 17th inst., at St. Jol— s to Kensington, Clifford Parsons, Esq., CaP lain 3d 131.14 .D ePil Laura Olivia Babington, daughter of the late it. r• POle, of Hatfield, Herts. Deaths. a fl ' BATTEN,—On the 13th inst, at a t T aer tou Foliott, De/-,,1 B. P. Batten, EA., late 'o mf Penzance, Gorriviall, t i. ` 55. s e c . BUCKERIDGE.—On the 14 th ins t., at Lichaeld, tho - George Buckeridge, 111. A., aged 6 6, COOKE.—On the 16th inst., at Cheltenham, 'Wm. C°°V' Esq , a6cd 81. c., let .• FRANCIS.—On the 15th inst at Hampton, Dlr3. 11 1.3 , - aged 84. f ,i a tt" JENNER.—On the 12th inst B' tJ • Eeq. of --' ~ An. L nner, f bieia, aged 51. AIARTI tn N. n —On the 10th inst., very sudd ? nly, at fre-Tl3or Lancashire, Lieut .- Colonel WV . l‘lartin, 20 y : era Go y° of the Preston House of Correction, ..ged 58. MijrfniA:ii.--ihnOann.thEos,llsthlaitreiswtt.,tt laleisit3l;ouagrn,,,ei•st6..........errtice' ~ e...---..................----- _.--- U Lnlidcn: Prinz.ed and fuNishea by W of iso. 112, Strand, Printer, at THE o ur Vinc e y Strand, ,n the I'redin2t of the ::',a y. •n the Do,ceraber 18, 1863. w SCE L stre T