The Sun.
London, England, 1863-08-19 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY ' EVENING, AUGUST 19, 1363,

ADVANTAGES OF COMBINATION.

Towards the conclusion of this document Sir Richard
points out the advantages which would result from a com-
bination of the City and Metropolitan police forces. He
says:—" I beg leave, in conclusion, to state that the exist-
ence of a detached police force in the heart of the metropolis
is at variance with the principle on which the police is esta-
blished in every other town in the kingdom. The continu-
ance of such an extraordinary exception in the metropolis
has, after lengthened inquiry and careful consideraion,
been condemned by two select committees of the House of
Commons, and by two Royal Commissions appointed to
inquire into the state of the Corporation of the city of Lon-
don. On the last occasion, in the year ISM, the commis-
sioners, the Right Hon. H. Labouchere (now Lord Taunton)
the late Sir George C Lewis, and Mr. Justice Patteson, in
their report to the Queen, thus express their deliberate
opinion with regard to the police :—' We believe that the
incorporation of the City with the larger district by which
it is surrounded is a measure recommended alike by consi-
derations of efficiency and economy. "

The Charges of Indecent Assault agains

Clarke.

William Henry Clarke, 17, painter, was indicted yester-
day at the Central Criminal Court for committing an inde-
cent assault upon Mary Ann Baxter, for a like offence upon
the person of Sophia Allen, and for a third and similar
assault on the person of a young girl named Lambert.
Mr. Clerk, specially retained on behalf of the Government,
assisted by Mr. Orridge, appeared to support the prosecu-
tion; Mr. Dickie defended the prisoner.
The court was densely crowded during the hearing of the
trial, and the utmost interest was manifested in the pro-
ceedings. It will be fresh in the recollection of our readers
that the prisoner was first arraigned at the Clerkenwell
Police-court on the charge of muidering a little girl named
Elizabeth Hunter, whose remains were found in a nursery-
ground at Islington a short time ago, but the case being one
of very great suspicion only, that charge was abandoned
and the present one brought forward.

The whole case having been so recently and so fully re-
ported, it will be unnecessary again to give the evidence in
detail, as the facts of the case will be found fully narrated
in the opening speech of the learned counsel for the prose-
cution.

Mr. Clerk, in his opening, said that though the case as
read from the indictment did not appear to be so serious as
some which had been tried before it this session, yet it
would be found to be the most important of any which has
as yet been brought before them. In each case the prose-
cutors were little girls, all under the age of ten when the
offences were committed ; and by the indecent conduct of
the prisoner towards them, he was guilty of a crime which
might have the effect of ruining these young children for
life by corrupting and tainting their whole existence. For
certain reasons he (the learned counsel) would not refer to
the charge out of which the present case arose, as by so
doing he might infuse a certain amount of animus into the
minds of the jury, which he was most desirous of avoiding.
The first charge to which he would refer occurred some
considerable time back, and was one of indecent assault
upon a young girl named Mary Ann Baxter, who was
only about nine years of age when the occurrence
took place. About the end of September, 1861, she was
going down a street in Hoxton, when the prisoner met her,
and asked her to take a letter to William-street, in which
is situated the nursery-grounds where the prisoner was
was employed. Ile then took her by the hand, telling her
that he would get her the letter, and led her thiougn the
nursery-ground to the toll-house at the bottom of the
garden, where he was guilty of very indecent conduct. He
took her on his knee and put his hand up her clothes, when
the child screamed out. He gave her a fourpenny-piece,
but she threw it down, and cried to go home. He then took
her to a place where glass was kept, and tied a handkerchief
over her mouth, and told her if she screamed out he would
murder her. He continued to keep her some time longer,
when he let her go, and she ran home and told her mother
what had occurred. The latter afterwards went to Mr. Roe,
and the child at once pointed out the prisoner as the man
who assaulted her. At first he denied all knowledge of the
child, but afterwards, under a promise, he made a statement
to his master which he (the latter) took down in writing.
All this occcurred as long ago as September, 1861, but it
was not the only case where the prisoner had been guilty of
this kind of conduct; fox some time in the January follow-
ing he met a little girl named Mary Ann Lambert, not
more than eight years old, and to her he made exactly the
same proposal as he had done to the other girl, telling her
he would give her a penny to take the letter. He did not,
however, give her a letter, but took her by the hand to the
nursery grounds, and when in the glass-house told her to lie
down, but she said she could not, " as her mother told her
not to dirty her frock." The prisoner then took his coat off,
and forced the poor child to lie upon it, and then in spite of
her screams he behaved in a most indecent manner towards
her. They could not tell whot had been done to the poor
little thing; but when examined by a surgeon she was found
to be very much injured. The same little girl had after-
wards identified him from a number of other men as the
Person who ha I assaulted her. Besides these two cases there
was a third charge against him. This time the little girl,
n_ani"d Allen, was walking along Bishopsgate- street, when
the prisoner accosted her, got into conversation with her,
onand
his knee,
took her into an ice shop, when he took her
and put his hand up her clothes till she
screamed out and
ran away. The whole of these cases
would be distinetly
proved before them, and it was by order
of the Government that he was there that day, as it was a
cruel and a monstrous thing that any man or lad should
act in such a corrupt and debasing manner towards poor
little children, who were quite unable to protect themselves.
A large number of witnesaea were called to prove the
statement of the learned counsel, alter which
Mr. Dickie addressed the jury or behalf of the prisoner,
contending that the children were all mistaken with regard
to identity, as he had several witnesses who would prove an
alibi on two out of the three occasions referred to. At first
the prisoner had been suspected of murder,and the Govern-
ment had prosecuted; but finding that that charge had
failed they had raked up all the evidence they could possibly
scrape together to try and convict the prisoner on these
didnot think the Government stool
in charges. He
in any very enviable light in thus prosecuting a poor father-
less boy, who had already suffered a lone, imprisontoent,and
who unfortunately bafpened to resemble some other person,
for whom he had been mistaken.
their
houses number of witnesses were called, who gave evidence
eir
to the effect that the prisoner was with them and in h
houses on two of the occasions referred to in the evidence,
and that he could not possibly have been in the green-house
and committed the assaults imputed him.
Mr. Clerk then replied upon the whole case.
With regard
to the alibi, it was but natural that friends and relations
should try to screen the young man at the bar. It was ,a
most difficult thing to prove an alibi to the satisfaction of
a iary so long a time after the assaults took place.
The Common Sergeant then summed up the whole of the
,
Vl(4l;kce) PlttiZZ the points With great clearzleE4 before the

Pury, telling them they must not be prejudiced against the
risoner because he was first apprehended upon a more
serious charge, but must look at the case as it stood before
them according to the evidence. With regard to the con-
duct of the Government, he thought it had been very fair
throughout the whole proceedings.
The jury then retired, and in a few minutes returned into
court with a verdict of gailty on the two first counts.
The Common Sergeant, addressing the prisoner, said he
had been convicted after a most patient hearing, and he
certainly concurred in the verdict. His conduct throughout
had been most infamous, and there was only one thing which
could be said in palliation, and that was his youth. The
Common Sergeant then sentenced him to two years' impri-
sonment with hard labour.

The prisoner in the most cool manner in the world then
asked whether he might be allowed to see his legal adviser,
to Re what steps could be taken on his behalf, as he was
quite innocent.

The Common Sergeant said he had nothing to do with
that.

ASSIZE INTELLIGENCE.

NORTHE ftN CIRCUIT.—LIVERPOOL, Alfa, 18.
CRIMINAL COURT.
(Before Mr. Justice Blackburn).
Jose Maria Alvan z, a Spanish sailor, aged 22, was in-
dicted for having, at Liverpool, on the 12th May, feloniously
and of his malice aforethought, killed and murdered one
James Harrison. He was also charged with feloniously
wounding one Henry Cohen, with intent to murder him.
Mr. Conway and Mr. A. Peel appeared for the prosecu-
tion; Mr. Charles Russell defended the prisoner.
It appeared from the statement of the learned counsel for
the prosecution, and from the evidence of the witnesses
called, that on the evening of the 12th of May, about a
quarter past nine o'clock, the unfortunate deceased man, in
company with two other men, named Cohen and Howell,
was proceeding dawn Old Hall-street, in the direction of
the Exchange. They had been together about a quarter of
an hour in a publichouse, and, according to the evidence of
Cohen and Howell, they were perfectly sober. When nearly
opposite Fazakerley• street they met the prisoner, and
Cohen accidentally jostled against him. There was no pre-
tence for saying that there was an assault on his part; it
was purely accidental, So far from being intentional, or im-
plying any wish to offend, the moment he had done it
Cohen turned round and begged the prisoner's pardon.
The prisoner said some words in Spanish, and immediately
pulled out a dagger and stabbed Cohen twice—first in the
breast, and afterwards, Cohen turning round to escape from
him, he stabbed him again in the back. The prisoner then
went across the street, and Harrison, the deceased man,
immediately followed him. Harrison caught him somewhere
near a breadshop kept by a person named Simpson, and
then the prisoner stabbed Harrison twice, inflicting the two
stab wounds, one of them mortal, in the belly. There could
be no question that in this case Harrison was perfectly jus-
tified, because all he did was his bounden duty to do.
When he saw the offence which had been described com-
mitted on Cohen it was his duty, if possible, to arrest the
offender, and therefore any act done to him in the execu-
tion of that duty was clearly unjustifiable on the part of the
prisoner, end would be no defence to the charge of murder.
Harrison fell down, and the prisoner then crossed the street
and made for Fazakerley-street. There were three women
standing there. One of them called out to him, "Y u
villain, what have you done ?" He made no reply, but
walked up to another woman who was standing close by,
and having said in Spanish, " Come here," he took hold of
her apron and deliberately wiped the bloody dagger on it,
after which he walked down the street. The learned coun-
sel felt it his duty to call the special attention of the jury to
the act; because it appeared to him to show very great cool-
ness and very great deliberation on the part of the prisoner.
He was followed down Lancelot's-hey, and was there lost
sight of. It appeared that he went to the hoarding-house
where he had been in the habit of stopping, kept by a Spa-
niard and his wife, named Antonio and Maria Bargus. The
prisoner there entered in an excited state and changed his
dress. When asked what was the matter with him he said
he had fought four Englishmen in the street and had used
his knife. It seemed that the prisoner left the boarding-
house about 7 o'clock that evening, and returned, appa-
rently very much out of breath, a little after a quarter past
9. In point of fact, the time of his return exactly coincided
with the time that the murder was alleged to have taken
place. He had on at the time a blue shirt and a scarf or
muffler, which would be produced before them. He said to
Bargus in Spanish, " Antonio, pardon me for what I have
tione." Bargus asked what was the matter ; and the pri-
soner replied, "I have come from Oldhall-street, after
having stabbed one Englishman." Bargus said, " Have
you used your knife ?" He replied, " Yes*" " Have you
killed him ?" inquired Bargus, to which the prisoner re-
plied, "I don't know." He added that he had fought with
four Englishmen, and wounded four of them. He then took
off the blue shirt and the muffler, which would be proved
by several witnesses to have been the dress in which he was
at the time the offence was committed. He went away with
his dress so changed, saying that " he would go to his girl."
It appeared that he did go to a girl of whom he had some
knowledge, and he was taken into custody on the following
day. When arrested, he said that he had been at a coffee-
holm from 5 o'clock that evening until 11 o'clock, and
that he was not the guilty party. Now, that was clearly
untrue, because, as had been already stated, it
would bo proved by the evidence of the
expected, considering the time of night and
boarding-
housekeeper that he only left their house at 7 o'clock, and
returned immediately after the time when the offence was
committed. There would be some slight discrepancy—as
might be easily
the natural excitement which would exist among parties wit•
nessing this dreadful transaction—with regard to the dress
the prisoner was wearing at the time. One witness would say
that he was wearing a blue, another that it was a blue and
white shirt; one that he had a cap on with a peak, and another
that he had no cap on at all. The learned counsel said that
he would be able, however, to prove the identity beyond
all doubt, It appeared to him that the real question for
them to consider was not whether or not the prisoner com-
mitted the deed, but what was the quality of that deed, as-
suming. it to have taken place. The deceased was picked up
and taken into Simpson's shop, and thence removed to the
hospital, where his wounds were examined, and where he
died. The medical man who attended the deceased would
be called before the jury, and he would give a description
of the nature of the wounds, and would state that beyond
all question those wounds were the cause of death. The
learned counsel then submitted that in point of law the
homicide of the deceased, committed under these circum-
stances, amounted to the crime of murder, and was not
manslaughter.
Tho learned counsel for the defence, contended, first, on
the evidence, that the identity of the prisoner with the man
y, that all the circumstances of the
Probably not before the jury, and it
eywskeelarcnife he wore, and, as a foreigner, igno-
rant who had stabbed the deceased
cfeaarstebdahpardisennoetr
bbaeednbeen satisfactorily
provoked
originalweb seatfaso brdlei established hec equdused
rone
tsldha,
of ourlanguage, he was probably not able to understand
su
ml
betweenm ing
up,
p'the conduct of the men who jostled him, or their apology.
His Lordship,
distinction in
having directed the jury
as tothe
murder and manslaughter,
directed them to take into consideration the circumstances
attending the first part of the quarrel, and also how far they
might think a foreigner, unacquainted with our language
and the habits of our people, might perhaps be more dis-
posed to take offence, and to fancy himself endangered, than
might under the same circumstances have been the case with
an Englishman. His Lordship remarked, however, that the
law, though lenient to human frailty, was not so to human
ferocity ; and if they were of opinion that the provocation
was not sufficient to reduce the crime to manslaugter, then
it was their duty as a jury to find a verdict of murder, and not
of manslaughter. Of course they would have first to satisfy
themselves as to the identity of the prisoner as the person
who committed the offence charged in the indictment ; and
with regard to that they would have to weigh carefully the
evidence of the various witnesses. It they were satisfied
that the prisoner knew that he was about to inflict a wound
under such circumstances end with such an instrument as
to show that he contemplated doing grievous bodily harm,
and was reckless as to whether death ensued or not, then
the crime could not be reduced to manslaughter. In con-
clusion, he would Pay to them that they should perform
their duty carefully, and, while they were called upon to do
their duty firmly to justice, they were carefully to consider
if there was anything in the case which led them to think
that it did not amount to murder, and give the prisoner the
benefit of it. Were they satisfied that the prisoner inflicted
the wounds, having received such provocation as might take
away from the act what the law called malice, and reduce
the crime from murder to manslaughter ? The jury would,
he hoped, consider the question calmly and carefully, with-
out thinging of the consequences, but honestly doing their
duty, for the consequences were the act of the law, and
not their act. If they thought the prisoner had not been
made out to be the man who had inflicted the wounds, then
he need scarcely say, they would acquit him altogether
but if they thought he was the man, the question lay be-
tween murder and manslaughter.
The jury, having retired, returned shortly before 5 o'clock
with a verdict of guilty, coupled with a recommendation to
mercy.
His Lordship— Upon what grounds, gentlemen ?
The Foreman—On account of his being a foreigner, and
not understanding the English language.
His Lordship—l understand you to mean, gentlemen,
that altnough you do not think that sufficient to justify you
in saying that it mitigated the offence from murder to man-
slaughter, yet it is a matter which somewhat palliates the
offence ?
The Foreman—That is so, my Lord.
The usual proclamation having been made, his Lordship
assumed the black cap, and, addressing the prisoner, said,
—You have been found guilty by the verdict of the jury,
altera
patient consideration, of the crime of wilful murder,
and i tnew
only remains for me to do that which the law int-
poses upon me to do—to pass sentence upon you. The jury
have recommended you to mercy. That recommendation I
will forward to the proper authorities; but from the nature
of the crime you have committed, I would not recommend
you to entertain
any hopes that that recommendation will
be carried into effect by her Majesty's Government. Upon
that I have not the power to decide, and I must now pass
upon you- having no other alternative—the sentence of the
law fa wilful minder, Ills Lordbhip then proceeded to

pronounce the sentence of death in the usual form; and, at
its termination, directed that his remarks should be trans-
lated to the prisoner.
This was done by the Spanish Consul,who occupied a seat
near the dock during the trial; and the prisoner, who did
not seem to be at all moved, then left the dock.
Esau Wilcox, aged 16, was indicted for the wilful murder
of Mary Cullen, at Manchester, on the 28th of March last.
Mr. Sowler (Q.C. in the County Palatine), and Mr.
Leresch appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Hopwood de-
fended the prisoner. _ _

The prisoner, a stupid-looking youth, appeared to have
been playing with some children and young girls in Bar-
ton•street, Liverpool-road, Manchester, on the evening of
the 26th March last, when the prisoner was observed to go
to the light of a shop window and charge a pistol which he
had, Shortly afterwards he was seen to advance towards a
girl named Mary Cullen, who was about 16 years of age,
and when about eight yards from her he pointed his hand
towards her, and immediately a loud report was heard, and
Mary Cullen fell. She was found to have a wound in the
forehead, and was lifted up and carried to the Infirmary,
where she dieA six or seven hours after from the effects of

a wound in the forehead, which had penetrated her skull
and entered the brain. When she fell a boy present said,
" That was Esau Wilcox," to which the prisoner cried,
" Hush 1" The prisoner was observed to go towards
an ashpit near his father's house, and was afterwards taken
into custody at his father's. On searching the ashpit a
pistol, which appeared to have been recently discharged,
was found there, and on searching the prisoner some gun-
powder and a leaden pellet were found in his waistcoat
pocket. A post mortem examination of the deceased disco-
vered that a small triangular piece of bone had been driven
into the forehead, and a wound large enough to admit the
surgeon's anger had been made in the substance of the
brain. A very small piece of lead was found in the brain,
but nothing which could have made such a wound. There
did not appear to have been any motive to induce the pri-
soner to commit the offence charged, and his Lordship inti-
mated to the learned counsel for the prisoner that he should
confine himself to the charge of manslaughter.
'1 he defence urged was that there was no intention by

the prisoner to injure any one, but that he had discharged
the pistol in frolic, and that the paper wadding had proba-
bly inflicted the wound. The boy was a quiet and inoffen-
sive lad.

His Lordship in summing up directed the jury that, if

in their opinion the prisoner hid fired the pistol with cul-
pable negligence, that would constitute the offence of man •
slaughter, if his act had caused the death of the deceased.
The wound probably might have been inflicted by some-
thing in the nature of a ramrod being left in the pistol, but
of that there was no evidence.

The jury found the prisoner guilty of manslaughter.
Hi`i Lordship sentenced him to be imprisoned, with hard
labour, for two calendar months. He did not think the
circumstances of the case called for any severe punishment,
and he thought he might well have been spared the pain of
the charge of wilful murder which had been preferred
against him.

The Hun. A. Liddell, Q.C., and Mr. Price, Q.C., have
each been sitting as Commissioners assisting in the trial of
prisoners.

In the Civil Court a long mining case, as to the getting of
a quantity of coal, which was commenced yesterday, has
occupied the day. It possessed very little public ihterest.

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

TIMES .-_Laying • -.eying aside all party aspects, the war
in America, looked upon simply as a war, ought to
put human nature in this 19th century to shame. It
is not even war on modern civilised dimensions; it
is war upon a barbaric scale. It is ancient war re-
vived. Its carnage, its devastations its famines, its
pestilences are barbaric. Its battlefields are upon
an old plan, in which the slaughter is out of all pro-
portion with the strategy. The engines of war are
modern, but the angel of destruction .which fires
them is the same destroying angel which laid low
Assyrian, Chaldean, and Persian armies. Milton has
given us a picture of ancient war conducted with
modern instruments, and he has boelly introduced
the thunders of field guns into the very earliest
fights on record. This war combines the newest
military inventions with the oldest type of horror
and destruction. If any one was not satisfied of this
from former descriptions he might have been from
the results of the battle of Gettysburg, as just now
more fully and accurately reported. We call it the
bettie, because it was to all intents and purposes
one battle. We have there in one battle 40,000
killed and wounded—i. e.. a whole army put hors
de combat. Ot these 10,000 are killed on tne spot.
Fancy such a solid mass of slaughter to be the work
of one battle. Ten thousand dead bodies on one
field ! Is it a scene of a civilised, mercantile, cotton-
growing, cotton-spinning age,—an age which boasts
itself a peaceful age, an age which has discarded
the pride of the soldier for the triumphs of the social
improver, and adopted " Exhibitions" •As its victo-
ries ? Or is it a scene of the age of Alaric or Attila?
We need not take our readers through the inter-
minable rows of the hospital. It is impossible for
any one to remise what the effect of the sight of
thousands of gashed and disabled men is, unless he
does actually see it. Inked, all these accounts are
mere words to many, without the aid either of the
eye or of a vivid imagination. Reason, however,
must come to the rescue if imagination fails, for it
is nothing less than a duty for people to endeavour
to enter into these facts, and take in the dreadful
amount of human misery which is comprised in
these scenes. It is a revolting idea that these
frightful events should be taking place, and that
they should pass over us without creating even
the sense of a contrast—the contrast of our
situation with that of these unfortunate cousins
of ours. Here we are in this island of ours,
—we never look on war; we do not know
what war is as a spectacle. We era at war, indeed,
sometimes—we make war, but we never see it—we
do not catch a glimpse of it—we are never touched
by the faintest stir of its most distant skirts. Our
troops know what war is, but we only know it by
our. pockets being a little lighter than usual. We
pay for war, but we keep our creditor at a distance,
and send him his money by check. What a differ-
ence it would make if war made his appearance
among us, not in the shape of a Chancellor of the
Exchequer's budget, but in proprid persona! How
would his rugged visage horrify us! Cannot we
guess how we should feel at passing through " the
lines," at catching sight of a battery on the brow of
the next hill, at meeting files of troops and trains of
artillery and military baggage as we went to pay
our visit of business to the next own, or our call of
condolence upon some mourning relation ? At the
first eight of a sentinel pacing on some hitherto
tranquil rural path our whole image of comfortable,
secure, ploughing and sowing England would crum-
ble into fragments, and we should feel ourselves in
another country. We should feel that a tie had
broken, and that we had lost the England of our
birth. Can we fancy the rails torn up between
Slough and Reading, or between Rugby and Lei-
cester, or between 50 other couples of towns? Can
we raise an image of bridges, which had spanned
the Thames or the Trent or the Avon from time
immemorial, blown up, of telegraph wires cut, and
of the communication both of persons and news
changed from its present likeness to a law of nature
to the irregularity of chance and luck ? It we can,
we can see what a very extraordinary England that
England would be, and how difficult to recognise
under its altered look and circumstances. Or can we
picture to ourselves what the news of a battle would
he, fought at Maidenhead or Dorking, on Salisbury
Plain, or on the Hog's Back, and how strange the
very announcement would sound to our ears, as if a
law of nature had been broken in the fact of an en-
gagement between two armies having really taken
place on English soil ? If we can, then we may feel
how striking is the contrast between the situation
of the Americans and of ourselves, and what the
miseries and horrors are from which we are hitherto
preserved. In parts of the United States the popula-
lation is being literally fed on "rations." Between
Vicksburg and Jackson " the country is completely
devastated." No subsistence of any kind remains.
Every growing crop was destroyed where possible.
Wheat was burnt in the barn and stack, wherever
found. All subsistence was brought offor destroyed.
Live stock was used or brought away everywhere.
Thousands are applying for food to sustain life.
Lien. Grant is opposed to all opening of trade for
the present. His experience has been that trade
retarded military operations." The Battle of Gettys-
burg does indeed appear to have presented some of
the grandest scenes of the horribly sublime kind
that have been seen in any war. Our Correspon-
dent, describing the charge of the Confederates up
the Cemetery Hill, held by the Federal centre,
writes : `I should have fancied that no such scene
had ever before reached mortal eye or ear. A thick
canopy of smoke, constantly rent by bright, dart-
ing fl Ashes of flame, cast its dense pall over the
struggling, bleeding thousands who toiled and died
in its centre, while out of the opaque gloom, as
though from the bowels of the earth, one deep, pro.
longed, bellowing roar never ceased to issue.
Through the deepening twilight, and on far into
the night, the fierce struggle continued, unlit in
the gloom the dazzling paraoolas of flame, bursting
into sparkling jets and coruscatione, as the shells
cracked and exploded, made c ghastly pyrotechnic
display." The first day, however, was exceeded by
the second. "The thundering roar of all the accu-
mulated battles ever fought upon earth, rolled into
one volume, could hardly have rent the skies with
fiercer or more unearthly resonance and din. Far
back into the mountains the reverberations rolling
from hillside to hillside startled strange and un-
musical echoes. Vast cumuli of cloud, such as
would have shrouded 10,000 Homeric goddesses.
. . floated over the strife; horses, the suffering
and tortured ministers of man's fury and wrath, lay
thickly dead or horribly mutilated upon the ground;
constantly from Gilt et ale white pail er w•pour