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

rtir SUN, LONDON, SATUEJJAy EVENING, DECEMBER 12, 1863,

LAW INT.ELLIGENCE—(This Day).

COURT OF DIVORCE.
(Before Sir, P. Wilde and a Special Jury.)
LIDSTONE V. LIDSTONE AND EDMUNDS.

This was a suit instituted by the petitioner, a shipwright
in Devonport dockyard, for a divorce on the ground of his
wife's adultery with the co-respondent. The charge was
denied by both the respondent and co-respondent. Damages
were laid at £3OO.

The petitioner was married in 1850, both parties being
then vary young, the respondent being only 17. After
the marriage they went to live atsTrankfort-street, In
1852 they left Plymouth, and went to live at East Dere-
ham, but returned again to Plymouth;where she contracted
an intimacy with Mr. Edmunds, a solicitor practising at
Plymouth, with whom it was alleged she had committed
adultery. The respondent was a well educated girl, but
the petitioner was rather illiterate. Quarrels ensued between
them, owing to her intimacy with Mr. Edmunds, and,
finally, she left her husband, and was afterwards found
living in lodgings in Victoria-street, Plymouth, where he
constantly visited the respondent.
John Carkect said he knew the parties both before and
after marriage. They lived very happily together until the
intimacy with Mr. Edmunds. After that she objected to
her husband as a person unsuitable for her society.
The learned Judge—What did she mean by that ?

Witaess—That he was uneducated. HA afterwards
heard Mrs. Lidstone talk about a divorce, and she further
said that after it was obtained she should be Mr. Edmunds's
lawful wife. Mr. Lidstone he considered to be a respectable,
upright man. His failing was over-kindness.
Howard Davis, an undertaker, said he knew Mr. and Mrs.
Lidstone, He recollected her leaving her husband's house
in 1862; and in October of the same year he met her at
Devonport-park. He asked her whether sho had not been
to Wales, and she replied "Yes, with Bob ;" and afterwards
she asked him not to tell Mr. Lidstone. He asked her if she
was living under the protection of Edmunds. She said no, but
that he visited her of an evening. 'She did not say where she
was living, but on another occasion he met her, and then
followed her to No. 15, Victoria-street, New Passage, Stoke.
He afterwards watched the house, and frequently saw Mr.
Edmunds go there. He had seen Mrs. Lidstone let Mr.
Edmunds out, and wish him good night, and further say
she hoped he would not get wet.
Mr. Chambers—Did she always say that?
Witness—Only when it was raining. (Laughter.)
Cross-examined by Mr. Ruddlestonc—When he was at
home he lived in Scotland. He could write.

Mr. Huddlestone—Have you any objection to write me
two words ?--" possessed" and " Wednesday" for instance?

Witness took up the pen and wrote the two words, spel-
ling the first " pocessed" and the next " Wensday."
Mr. Huddlestone (handing witness a letter and the paper
upon which he had written the words)—ln the letter you will
find the words spelled precisely the same way ; is, or is not,
the letter, which is a fac simile of the words you have just
penned, in your handwriting ?
Witness—The letter is not in my handwriting. That I
swear.

Mr. Chambers, Q.C., for the petitioner—l object to the
witness being examined on the point. It is a piece of
legerdemain to trick the witness. The letter is not in
evidence.
The Judge Ordinary—l think the witness can be asked
whether the letter was written by him or not. (To witness)
When you have thoroughly looked at the letter, tell the
jury, upon your oath, whether it is in your handwriting or
not.

Witness—l swear I did not write that letter, and know
nothing of it.
Mr. Huddlestone—l now propcse to put the letter and
the paper, en which the witness has written the two words,
into the hands of the jury.
Mr. Chambers objected—The letter was not at present
evidence, and it was merely a clever trick on the part of
the learned counsel to attack the witness's credibility.
A long discussion then followed, during which the word
Wednesday was then marked in the letter and witness was
asked whether he wrote it positively denied it.
The learned Judge here, after reading the letter, thought
it very material to the case that the fact mentioned in the
letter should be fully investigated, and with that view he
thought the witness could be asked whether he wrote it or
no.

Mr. Huddlestone—Now, after cautioning you, I ask you
deliberately whether you did not write that letter ?
Witness—l did not,
The learned counsel again wished the letter to be placed
before the jury, but the learned judge thought it better be
deferred till all the matters connected with it were before
the court.
Mary Ann Wild, a domestic servant, at Mr. Williams's
15, Victoria-street, deposed to the visits of a gentleman to
Mrs. Lidstone, whilst she was residing there.
Mrs. Higgins said she resided at Ross, in Hereford. She
recollected two persons coming to lodge at her house some
weeks. He had since seen both Mr. Edmunds and Mrs.
Lidstone, and was positive they were both the parties.
Mr. Rundel, a solicitor, residing at Davonport. said the
two preceding witnesses had seen Mr. Edmunds, while pro-
fessedly engaged in the County-court, at Dovonport, and
identified him as the gentleman who visited Mrs. Lidstone.
Evidence was called for the respondent to show that
Lidstone had invariably treated his wife with the greatest
coldness aLd neglect.
The case was proceeding when we went to press.

SHERIFFS' COURT.
(Before Mr. Commissioner Kerr.)

A. NEW POINT IN THE LAW OF MASTER AND SERVANT,

-GARNHAM V. BOSS.

This was an action to recover a sum of money actually
earned as wages, and wages in lieu of notice. Plaintiff is
a journeyman umbrella maker, and he had worked for de-
fendant. He found that he could better himself by going
to another place, and in accordance with the rules of the
trade give a week's notice. Upon this the defendant said
he could go at once, but plaintiff worked until some period in
the day, when he received peremptory orders to quit.
His Honour—How do you say that you are entitled to a
week's notice.
Plaintiff—By the rules of the trade.
_ _

Defendant's son—We make a special bargain in our
house. When the men enter our service we point out that
upon leaving theymust give us a week's notice, but we may
discharge them at a moment.

His Houour—That appears to be a very one-sided bar-
gain, but if the men chose to agree to it, of course 1 can say
nothing.

Plaintiff—But surely you know the men are entitled to
the same consideration as the master. If a man leaves
their service at a moment's notice they enforce the week,
and ths men ought to be able to do the same.
Defendant—The rule is well understood in our house,
and we consider that we are quite at liberty to make rules
for our own protection.

His Honour—Oh I certainly, but it does not seem to
work very well so far as I can see. It appears that the
moment a man gives the customary notice the master can
turn him out forthwith and deprive him of the week's
money. The bargain is a legal one, but it is also a hard
one. If, however, the men choose to agree to it, they
cannot depart from it now. There is money paid into
court, in addition to which plaintiff is entitled to recover
for the time he actually worked (25.), and for that sum he
will have a verdict.

Verdict for plaintiff, only for the actual money earned.

SHIPPING—This Day.

LONDON, Dec. 12.—Wind this day at noon—South-
West ; light breeze, and fine weather.
LIVERPOOL, Dec. 12.—Wind S.W.—Arrived—Palermo,
screw steamer, from Scilly—Ellen Catherine, from Huelva
—Lucy, from Riohibucto.

PORTSMOUTH, Dec. 11.—Wind S.W.—Arrived—Lady
Milton, from Otago, N.Z.
KINGROAD, Dec. 11.—Wind W.—Arrived—Red Coat,
from the West Coast of Africa.

CLYDE, Dec. 11.—Wind S.W.—Arrived—Acme, Cuth-
bert;, and Empire, trom Quebec—Perseverance, from
Montreal.

RAMSGATE, Dec. 11.—Wind S.W.—Arrived—Kate
Evelyn, from Hartlepool for Garrucha—assisted in with
loss of stanchions, &c.

DOVER, DQC, 11.—Wind W.—Arrived—Murillo, screw
steamer, from London from Santander. -

CARDIFF, Dec. 11.—Wind 10, from
Marsala.

PLYMOUTH, Dec. 11.—Wind N.W.—Arrived—Premier,
from Newfoundland.

OW MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH.)
GRAVESEND, Saturday Morning.
Arrived—William Walker, from Archangel.
DEAL, Saturday Morning.

Passed—Asia, screw steamer, from Sunderland, for 6al-
eutta—Cid, screw steamer, for Bilboa, and Tivy, schooner,
for Falmouth, both from London—Scotland, ship, from the
North, for the West.

LORD STAMFORD'S SALE,—Mr. Naylor, as the
last bona fide bidder, has claimed the yearling filly,
Sloth, by Idle Boy out of Lena, which was knocked down
to Mr. Ten Broeck, for 250 gs ; and we embrace this oppor-
tunity of explaining that there is not the slightest truth in
the statements which have appeared in our contemporaries.
as to Captain White having acted for Mr. Nuylor at the
sale. Captain White did not bid for a single lot for Mr.
Naylor, nor did the latter bid, directly or indirectly, for
either Cambuscan or Archimedes, us represented.—Sport-
ing Gazette.
SUICIDE BY A GREENWICS PENSIONER.—Mr. C.
J. Carttar, coroner for West Kent, yesterday held an in-
quest at the Admiral Hardy Tavern, Greenwich, into the
circumstances attending the death of William Day, a pen
sioner of Greenwich Hospital. The evidence proved that
the deceased had been drinking for several days, and was
apparently suffering from the effects of intemperance. He
was admitted to the infirmary of the hospital, where he
committed suicide by cutting his threat with a sharp knife
in a most determined manner. The jury returned a verdict
of temporary insanity, which was induced by habits of in-
temperance,

LITER ATI7RE.

Barbara's History. By Amelia B. Edwards, author
of " My Brother's Wife," &c. Three Vols. Hurst
and Blackett.
When the interest of a story is concentrated upon
one or two individuals, it generally gains in inten-
sity. " Barbara's History" belongs to the class that
Mr. Disraeli has called Psychological novels, novels
in which the emotions of one heart and the develop-
ment of one individuality, occupy the chief atten-
tion of both writer and reader. In portraying to us
the development of her own character and the vivid
emotions of her excitable nature, Barbara has been
very successful, but the story of which she is the
heroine is singularly improbable, and the hero of
the tale, Hugh Farquhar—Farquhar of Broomhill
—is one of those paragons of perfection, an impos •
sibility, such as assuredly never stopped out of,the

_ .
pages of a romance. He takes a rifle from the

hands of one of the German free•shooters, "the best
riflemen in the world except those of the Tyrol,"
and fires two bullets in succession into the centre of
the target until the amazed marksmen exclaim " He
is Tell come hack again!" He borrows a guitar
from a wandering musician, and sings a ballad of
his own composition to the delighted wonder of all
hearers. He gives six thousand pounds for a Paul
Veronese. He travels through Europe with black
'rippoo as his avant courier, engaging in advance the
best rooms at every hotel, and ordering in advance
recherché dishes to suit the fastidious palate of this
fashionable Crichton. Added to which our wonder-
fully romantic hero has "a mystery in his house"—
an Italian lady secreted behind a secret panel, to the
dismay and distraction of the hero's wife, who is
herself notwithstanding the object of her husband's
idolatrous affection ! We have said enough, and
more than enough, to corroborate our assertion that
Barbara's History" is, to say the least of it, some-
what improbable, and the character of her lover in
our matter-ot-fact opinion somewhat (almost) im-
possible ! Barbara herself very simply and tenderly
reveals to us the trials and troubles of her young
heart. In the opening chapter she exclaims—
When I was young They are but four words ; and
yet, at the very commencement of what must prove a
labour of many months, they have power to arrest my
pen, and blind my eyes with unaccustomed tears. Tears
partaking both of joy and sorrow; such tears as those
through which we all look back to childhood and its half-
forgotten story, Oh, happy time 1 so islanded in the still
waters of memory; so remote, and yet so near; so strange,
yet so familiar ! Come back once more—come back,
though never so briefly, and light these my pages with the
pale sunshine of a fade& spring.
lam answered. A pleasant calm steals upon me; and,
as one might step aside from the troubled streets, to linger
awhile in the quite sanctuary of a wayside church, so I
now turn from:the eager present, tread the dim aisles of the
past, sigh over the inscriptions graven on one or two dusky
tablets, and begin with the recollections of infancy this
narrative of my life.

Barbara's childhood is lonely snd isolated. Her
first happy experience is her visit to her great-aunt
Mrs. :Sandyshaft, a strong-minded country lady,
who delights in agriculture and farming, and more
especially in pigs! Here is Barbara's introduction
to these new acquaintances—
" There they are I" said she, with grim• satisfaction.
" There they are I"

There they were, indeed pigs of all sizes, ages,
and tempers. Black pigs, white pigs, spotted pigs,
little pigs, big pigs, fat pigs, lean pigs, pigs with
curly tails, and pigs with no tails at all. Quiet
enough till we came into the yard, they no sooner
beheld my aunt's green bonnet than they broke into
the most appalling chorus imaginable, and came rushing
up to us with an alacrity that soon brought the whip into
service, and sent some of them shrieking away. But to
see them fed was the great sight—to watch the perpe-
tual replenishment of the groat round troughs—the circles
of tails, uplifted and quivering with excitement—the play-
ful disturbances that broke out now and then among the
younger members of the company, and the friendly bites,
flights, and scuffles that diversified the graver interests of
the performance.

Meanwhile, my aunt stalked about with her whip in
her hand ; inspected the condition of the sties, and the
quality of the food; rated the farm-servants ; discussed the
question of bean-meal and pea-meal; gave orders that one
youthful family should have their noses ringed; con-
demned two haples, porkers of middle growth to solitary
confinement—and ended by taking me round to visit a
very fierce dowager in an adjoining yard, who had the
evening before presented society with no less than fifteen
little ones, as black as jet, and not much bigger than
kittens.

Having dismissed the pigs, we went into the stables ;
aad then round to the bullock yard ; and, after that, went
a leng way off to a clover-field lying on the slope of a
hill, where we saw the sheep and the little white lambs
all feeding and gambolling about, to the number of three
hundred aad more. And throughout all this ramble, my
aunt's vigilant eyes were on everything and everybody.
Nothing escaped her ; and not a servant on all the land
but started into activity at her approach, and seemed to
regard her not only with respect, but with some degree of
terror.

The next scene of our heroine's history is a German
lady's college,. where her education is completed, and
where her taste for painting is developed. Barbara
becomes an artist, and wins the prize-medal from
the hands of the Grand Duke of a German princi-
pality. Many years of Barbara's life are passed
abroad. The authoress portrays the southern
landscape with a glowing pencil. Here is a glimpse
of some of the heroine's wanderings in what ahe
calls her—

HALCYON DAYS.
How like a painting of Turner's it opens before us, this
broad and beautiful valley I Rich sloping vines " combed
out upon the hillsides" skirt the mountains on either hand;
sometimes divided from the road by flats of emerald meadow,
and sometimes trailing their ripe fruits within reach of the
passing wayfarer. Behind us, the stupendous precipices of
the Gemini still tower into sight; and in advance, far as we
can see, the valley is bounded right and left by the Vallaisan
Alps, which mingle their snow-peaks with the gathering
cumuli, and fade away to air. Midway along the
shadowy vista rise two steep and solitary hills, each
crowned, like a Roman victor, with its mural coronet
of ruins. A glorious landscape, so stately with poplars,
so garlanded with vines, so
thoroughly Italian in
its beauty, that it might well be on the other side of the
Alps, for any difference that the eye can see!
Thus, as we go forward through the plain, passing
villages, and towns, and vineyards where the merry vintage
is at its height, the scene becomes more and more Italian.
In Sierra, through which our postilions rattle at full speed,
the houses are high and dilapidated, with arcades running
along the basement stories, and Italian signs and names
above the doors. in Sion there are Capuchins at the cor-
ners of the streets ; and sullen, handsome women, who
throw up their windows, and lean out to look at us, in true
Italian fashion. Even the farm-houses scattered all about
the valley are stuccoed white, or built of stone ; with loggias
on the roof, and sometimes a trellised vine before the door.
We are now, it would seem, in the very heart of the grape-
district. Here are vineyards in the valley, vineyards on
the hillsides, vineyards down to the road on either hand 1
From some the harvest has already been gathered—some
then
rutp
friar, a couplewh o
are still heavy with white and purple fruit---aud some are
filled with gay groups of vintagers, sunburnt as the soil.
By and by we come upon a long procession of carts, all
laden with high wooden cans of grapes ; then upon an open
shed, where some five or six swarth?,
. h fellows, armed with
impress of his sandalled
ls
printsos short ogr trapoles,
foot at each impatient stride. Then come more farms,
more villages, more
hullosrvteye l
r- mashingoad hattedw it
htAhtbehberefisd,r
mfr anduiimt' s

by a roadside
cross,and presently
who" Wains omen-drawn,
Laden with grapes, and dropping rosy wine ;,,
wec
hpaarsistya
in
nlitnhde
namebegga rofsatthttemßle a 3
ed
Mary.
Thus the day wanes, and, towards afternoon, we reach a
famous vineyard of the Muscat grape, where the vignerons
load our carriage with armfuls of the porfumed fruit. Here
asks
the cottages are more than ever Italian, with tiled roofs,
and jutting eaves, and ingots of Indian corn festooned
about the upper casements. Here, also, the wild peaks of
the Diablerets come into sight—grim sentinels of the legen-
dary Inferno of the Vallaisan peasant.
And now, as the sun sinks westward, we hear the
chiming of the chapel•bells far away, and see bands of vin-
tagers trudging wearily home; and still the long road lies
before us, bordered by tremulous poplars, dusty, direct, in-
terminable as ever I

The loves of Barbara and Hugh are very feelingly
described. There are many scenes of passionate
tenderness which will touch the hearts of the
romantic,
but the conduct of both hero and heroine
liossseso wraiuldelhy improbable tt,h at the story, as a whole,
while isolated portions
reveal great artistic power.

----

Memoirs of Jane Cameron, Female Convict. By a
Prison Matron, Author of " Female Life in
Prison."
melodrama, as impressive picturesque as a
as a discourse from the
T wo Volumes. Hurst and Blackett.
As interesting as a romance, as
lips of some gifted pulpit orator, this " ower true
tale" of the life and death of a Female Convict will,
while it at once enhances and in a manner confirms
the writer's reputation both as a moralist and as a
humanitarian, tend, moreover, we are perfectly well

satisfied, very considerably to popularize it. The
authoress has advanced froea a consideration cf
"the general" in "Female Life in Prison"—to a con-
sideration of " the particular" in these very dread-
ful but also very affecting " Memoirs of Jane
Cameron." The Female Convict, so entitled, has
her wretched history recounted thus mercifully
under a pseudonym. Dates and localities are also
here transformed—as a kindly shelter of the
poor creature referred to from the chance of
identification. Otherwise the narrative is, from
first to last, miserably veracious. It so assumes to
be. And we needs must credit the validity of the
claim thus put forth. The work has a purpose. It
undertakes to show, and indeed we may assert at
once that it does quite comprehensibly demon-
state that the poor and ignorant are led into crime
and are in innumerable instances taught to regard
it as simply a business, the evil nature of which
is to them not apparent." Nor is this all—for
the thread of the narrative, while affording a clue
to the mystery of, temptation, leads the practical
philanthropist on, thereby, to the detection of what
ought, in truth, to constitute the first endeavour
made by him in order to bring about the criminal's
reclamation. The unfortunate, here called by the
name of Jane Cameron, it should be said, at once, is
before the close of the book, veritably reclaimed.
She dies, but dies penitent. Transformed from a
heinous offender, from a thief and a prostitute, into
a repentant sinner, who enacts, in her later years,
the humble part of an honest and virtuous domestic,
Jane Cameron, as we road of her here, at the ter-
mination of her adventures, in and out of prison,
remains (we are told) "to the last a good servant
and a faithful friend. She died," it is added by
the authoress, " truly penitent for all past sins,
and truly thankful for all the mercies which had
been vouchsafed to her. This was the last new,
of Jane Cameron the last and the best."
Having quoted which simple, but most touching
comment upon the poor Female Convict's life
and death, we may say at once confidently enough
that—although the history of Jane Cameron is at
times very frightful indeed as a revelation of the
filthiest depravity, and of the most utter
abandonment, it may, in the recollection of
her death, be regarded at any rate with some
sentiments of consolation, even at its end of actual
satisfaction. Born and bred in Croiley's Land, in
that swarming and festering back-slum of the vast
and populous city of Glasgow, called the New
Vennel, Jane becomes at a very tender age, indeed,
one of the 240,000 children who are known to be
given up to a life of theft in the various towns and
cities of the United Kingdom. One of that little
infant army of 240,000 thieving children! The
fact that there is fully that number of young
criminals scattered among our population is unde-
niable. It is proved beyond a doubt by reliable
statistics. And—one of that youthful swarm, one of
that childish host of the depraved to the number of
240,000 in all, one of those ill-fated little ones, not
brought up, as Charles Lamb has it, but dragged
up, is Jane Cameron ! When a mere toddle of five
or six she is—what shall we call it ?—a confirmed
cadger. At twelve she has as her " cash"—a boy of
fourteen. When, herself, barely but fifteen she is
already a mother. "I didna think muckle o' the
wee bairn the first nicht," she says, " but on
the second day I luved it awfully !" Ah,
the poor soul ! but her " wee bairn" dies, and
therewith "dies out with the child she had loved,"
the little spark of her own better nature ! Her first
fall had come to her from that source of evil to so
many children elsewhere than in the purlieus of the
Glasgow Vennel—the dancing saloons! The low
penny dancing saloons called in the squallid Glasgie
Life—