The Sun.
London, England, 1863-08-26 00:00:00

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS,

PosT.--If any hope could be indulged in that the
dreadful crime of murder could ever come to be so
abhorred in this country as to ensure thereby its rare
occurrence, the faith might perhaps be cherished by
the reflection that it is very seldom found to be the
deed of any save the lower and consequently unedu-
cated classes. We might trust that as education
advanced there might at last remain scarcely any
left so utterly uncivilised as not to be restrained ih
their ungovernable passions by the feeling of social
responsibility, if not of religious sentiment. The
crime might he expected to almost die out, and fall
into the same semi-desuetude as arson or" barking."
But every now and then cases arise painfully prov-
ing to us that the most smoothing processes of in-
telligence or refinement are totally inadequate to
quell the natural ferocity of some savage natures,
and that we are as far off from totally eradicating
murder from among the higher classes as we seem
to be from even diminishing it in the lower. It
must be admitted that when individuals somewhat
lilted above the common herd by station and intel-
ligence once pass the boundary of moral restraint so
far as to compass, even in thought, the taking away
the life of a fellow-creature, the tide that sweeps
them onwards seems to be irresistible. Our later
instances of it have been appalling in the wild in-
tensity with which the designs, once formed, have
been carried out. The fiendish hypocrisy, yet un-
swerving tenacity with which Palmer murdered by
inches his companion, Cook, the whirlwind of savage
hate which urged on Roberts to his assault upon
Captain Murray; the unpitvingcowardice pervading
another deed of violence which official but mistaken
leniency prevents us from characterisin-, as we could
wish, have all something in them more horrible and
appalling than the stab of a clown half drunk with
spirits, and half mad with anger, or the blow of a
ruffian whose only hope of plunder is the death
of his victim. But we should be careful lest we
How the filaltaellleilt and curiosity with which we
regard this intense development of human frail:y
to obliterate our abhorrence and degenerate into
interest. At this moment an instance of it is
ringing through the land, which for the extraordi-

nary contradiction of the passions engaged, the
,eondrous inconsistencies of the, various feelings
successively elicited, the palpable premeditation of
the crime, the deceit which succeeded in concealing
the intent, and the implacable ferocity with which
it was finally carried out, will scarcely find any
parallel even in the pages of fiction. We deprecate
whilst we fear the mental obtuseness which may
create these incidents, and the sympathy accorded
to the crimes of fiction ; but we trust that a plain
statement of them may rouse a little common sense,
and exhibit them in their real abhorrent light. As
far as they can he gathered from the coroner's in-
quest, the examination before the magistrates, and
the confession of the murderer himself, they appear
to be these. A Mr. Robert Victor Townley, de-
scribed as a handsome youeg man of five-and-twenty,
had become the accepted suitor of a Miss Goodwin,
a young lady, residing with her grandfather at
Wigwell Grange, in Derbyshire. Miss Goodwin
~übsequentiy desired that the engagement should be
broken off. Mr. Townley acquiesced, but desired an
interview, and for this purpose repaired on Friday
last to Wig well Grange. He arrived in the neigh-
bourhood in the morning, and, by questioning an
acquaintance, evidently ascertained the truth of
what he had before suspected, namely, that Miss
Goodwin preferred another to him. He, however,
expressed aimself to the acquaintance that " she had
a right to please herself, and that he would not
stand in her way." In the evening he proceeded to
the Grange, and was admitted, and shortly after-
wards Miss Goodwin quitted the house with him,
and strolled about the grounds. She had, however,
previously told a servant to come in half an hour to
say that "she was wanted." The servant did so,
and found the two apparently conversing calmly
enough. • But as they returned to the house Miss
Goodwin told the servant that Mr. Townley had said
to her that " if she would not have him-, he would
take care she should not have any one else." After
remaining in the house for about an hour, Miss
Goodwin saying she had promised Mr. Townley
anotaer interview, again left it, despite the remon-
strances of the servant, who thought it hazardous
after the threat which bad been made. At, about
half-past eight a farm labourer returning home,
alarmed by groans, proceeded in search of their
cause, and found Miss Goodwin in a lane adjoin-
ing the grounds, mortally wounded, but staggering

in the direction of her home by the aid of the wall.
She told the astounded labourer that " a gentleman
had cut her throat," and entreated him to take her
home. Whilst be was endeavouring to do so
Townley came up, and to the man's natural ques-
tion replied—" I stabbed her; she has proved false
to me." He then seemed to relapse into tenderness
for her, repeatedly kissed her, using fond expres-
sions, and finally assisted in carrying her up to her
home, himself holding her head. The poor girl
died on the road. She was found to have received
two mortal wounds—one in the neck dividing the
carotid artery, the other in the shoulder, which had
extended to the spine. Her fingers were also cut,
as if the poor thing had endeavoured to defend her-
self after the first attack. The murderer main-
tained during the whole time the most calm and
collected demeanour. Ho repeatedly avowed him-
self to have committed the crime, voatraterily gave
himself up to the constable who had been sent for,
and himself produced out of his pocket the clasp
knife with which he had perpetrated the horrid
deed. Before he went away in custody he calmly
looked again on the face of his unhappy victim,
said he felt "all the happier now he had done it,"
and hoped "poor Bessie was in a better world."
all these facts were proved in evidence before the
magistrates oa Monday; and after being asked if
ie had anything to say in answer to them, and hay-
leg replied "nothing," it is needless to say he was
duly committed for trial. This is one of the most
cold-blooded and appalling murders on record. We
trust its incidents, will excite only abhorrence for the
murderer. A letter was alluded to at the examination
which, connected with the result, would seem to
prove that the dreadful deed was premeditated from
the very beginning. It only adds another hateful
ingredient to the rest of the vile qualities evinced
in the matter. Smothering his horrid intent, the
miscreant must have entirely deceived the poor
girl into his acquiescence in her wishes. He must
have thus secured the second interview at a later
hour, and then have persuaded her to leave her own
grounds, for what, may have seemed to him a more
fitting place. When we th;nk that his victim was
an unprotected girl, that he had lovtd her, and
hoped to make her his wife, how he could ever have
brought himself to have struck the cowardly blow,
baffles all conjecture; and perhaps we shall never
know: But we do know that he could stand aloof
and watch her staggering along the wall•side with
two mortal wounds-=his deed—draining her life
fest away. Had not the labourer appeared it is
probable he would have allowed her to drop in
the ditch and die there, unmoved. He is en object
of utter abhorrence, and we trust will be regarded
only in that light. We could wish that he may be
painted only in his true colours—that of a pitiless
brutal murderer. We would fain hope that his else
might bo divested of the interest and publicity
which seem to foster only the delusions of a maudlin
sentiment. We would eillingly be spared " the
portrait of the victim," or " the photograph of the
murderer," together with numerous " views of
Wigwell Grange," which are sure to divert the per-
ception of the public from the true and stern appre-
ciation of this atrocious act. Let the murderer,
gentleman though he be, expiate his crime as such
crimes should be atoned for. Let him remain in
his cell till his hour arrives, with the sure know-
ledge that he is accursed among men for his in-
famous deed. Let him be brought forth to die the
death that is only too good for him, atnocg the
execrations of such as can look upon such scenes ;
bat let him not be commiserated or excused upon
this earth, for ho is one of the most cowardly and
unpardonable murderers on record.

HERALD,—The last luxury of a thoronenly des-
potic Government has been provided for the people
of the Northern States of America. President
Lincoln and his Cabinet have inauprated, as an

auxiliary to their public means of information, a
pirculie.r state institution, rather obsolete with us,
which was perfected in the French Empire by the
elder Bonaparte and the Duke of Otranto. To see
the strides of the giant republic towards all attri-
butes of Imperial autocracy is a sight to bewilder
even Mr. John Bright, and to turn him, were it
possible, from his accustomed and ready disposition
to trace all corruption, and wrong-doing, and ne-
farious political action to that incubus over English
society, an aristocracy. In the brief two years since
the American brothers came to open blows, we now
trace, in the words of the King of the Brobdignegs,
a heap of conspiracies, rebellions, murders,
niqssecres, revolutions, b,mi6hiric tits, the very worst
effects that avarice, faction, hypocrisy, perfidious-
nes:, cruelty, madness, hatred, etity, lus',
and ambition could produce. There is not a single
crime which monarchs, oligarchies, or dictators
have committed, on the Old Continent, that has not
found—though we are regarding but a reriod of
twice twelve months—a parallel in the history of
the New Continent since the outbreak of the
American civil war. An immense debt, with a
paper currency ; a standing army of the most brutal
character, if all that is told of it be true ; the con-
script law, the press-gang, and high bounties, ali
working at one and the same time, attend the mili-
tary career of the Northern half of the United
States. A terrified and bridled press, place-hunting
and favouritism, venality and the sale of offices, the
most shameless frauds in the army and navy corn-
missariat, elections determined at the point of the
bayonet, the invitation to the helots of the soil to
supplement the army, imprisonment or banishment
for citizens speaking adverse opinions to the Go-
vernment—mak© up a list of excesses such as the
worst European chaos of empire never evoked in
so brief a space of time. Death has been so busy
with the army that the Cabinet has not yet invited
him to aid their civic legislation. There are two
pictures, however, which we would fain present
from the latest intelligence respecting both the
American citizens who stay at home, and those who
go out to fight their country's battles. The local
journals tell us that "the substitutes for draughted
men are kept in a large room " in the guard-house,
on the second story, and are strongly guarded.
"The guard carry Springfield muskets loaded with
cartridges, in which the powder is topped by a
bullet and several buckshot." Was there ever a
more terse and sufficient description ? The corre-
spondent of the _Hartford Times is, indeed, most
choice in his epithets, and takes care to point out
that any attempt at " skedaddling" would be pretty
sure to result in a " wounded substitute," or a dead
one. These substitutes are evidently a very slippery
set of recruits, and must have impressed the autho-
rities with a notion of their facile and elastic views
of military enlistment, to justify the treatment they
receive when once on the books of a regiment.
Whenever one of them wants to go about town on
any errand he is accompanied by one—generally
two—armed soldiers! Just as if he were a convict
or a criminal doomed to a soldier's career as a penalty,
with incidental death in the background. When
these recruits are equipped with uniforms—weapons
at first of course are not put in their hands—they
are quietly, we read, taken off in squads of six to
twerety in the cars, and sent to the Conscript Camp
at New Harlem. No wonder at the lack of disci-
pline, or personal carriage, or pride in appearance,
so frequently reported of them, and which, amongst
us old-fashioned people, all go to make up a smart
soldier. The unhappy civilian left in inglorious
ease behind is equally, however, the object of the
unceasing attentions ot his paternal Government.
`rile spies of the State Department are übiquitous.
These emissaries of Mr. Seward, writes a public
correspondent,even from the English side of Niagara,
evidently after close experience of the wretches, are
both amateur and professional, male and female,
American and foreign. "They catch up scraps and
odds and ends of conversation ; they sit Yankee
fsshion, balancing their chairs, with their heels on
the window sills or the balustrades, pretending to
read the newspapers, but straining their ears to
catch the disjointed fragments of the confidential
talk of the bystanders." Of course these vermin
are everywhere, but that it should be thought ne-
cessary to transport them across the Border, and
infest the watering places resorted to by English
and Canadian visitors, is only a proof how
thoroughly they are at last engrafted into the
" ways and means" of President Lincoln and his
subordinates. Doubtless we may find them, and
have found them, at Liverpool and in London ; but
happily, to Englishmen they are of no more moment
than the creepiug things which are always thought
to inhabit old furniture when it has been neglected
or laid aside to decay. Each American community,
weather at New York, Baltimore, or Cincinnatti,
is, it would seem, haunted with all the " terrors ot
old-fashioned Italian espionage." In all public
places, and especially at the hotels, the gentleman
who greets you "casts an uneasy glance over his
shoulder as he shakes hands, fidgets in his chair,
es he starts the monotonous subject of the weather,
and at last fairly begs you to take him into your
private room, as no talk can safely be carried on in
these spy-beset public apartments." No wonder
at the continental watering places being this year
reported to be more crowded with Americans, of
every stamp, than they have ever been known to
be. It wanted but this infamy of a paid and
organised espionage to fill up the measure of the
folly and fear of the Washington Government.
Assuredly there is the direct promise of absolutism
in its most hideous form, in this suspicion, which
inflates itself into tyranny and injustice, by hired
spies and informers. A military dictator, supported
by a mercenary army, is the next degree of govern-
ment to that which seeks to muzzle free speech, or
misrepresent it, by depending on the hireling
eavesdropper. And though no one but General
Schenk or General Butler has attained a sufficient
altitude of cruelty and brutal and merciless oppres-
sion to entitle him to be pointed out as the leader in
a coup d'etat, with the event will come the instru-
ment to execute its scope and purposes. No more
better illustration of the rotten condition of
" Yankee politics" has yet reached us than the
tacit acceptance of the spy system, by which the
lightest word may be exaggerated to the importance
of the gravest deed. The nation which acquiesces
in the employment of this secret police is already
as much gagged and mannacled as though it spent
its life in prison. Next to the terrors of a life,
where silence alone is a safe condition, many will
say. that the penalty of death must be the one
final evil in store.