The Sun.
London, England, 1862-10-24 00:00:00

THE SUPPOSED MURDER OF PETER MAWER,

AT BOSTON.

A letter from Catherine Wilson, who was exe-
cuted at the Old Bailey on Monday morning last
for the murder of Mrs. Soames, was lately received
by John Mawer, a bricklayer residing on the Bur-
ton-road, Lincoln, and was written in answer to a
letter from him. John Mawer, who has been 25
years in the employ of Mr. C. Ward, of Lincoln,
was brother of the late Peter Mawer, of Boston, and
it wilt be remembered that Catharine Wilson was
housekeeper to the deceased, and that she was sus-
pected of having poisoned him in 1854. On his
body, however, being exhumed some months ago,
no trace of poison was discovered. Peter Mawer,
it appears, had made a will in favour of his brother
John, who was not only heir-at-law, but was held
in affectionate regard by him. Peter Mawer fre-
quently told his brother that what little he had
would go to him on his death, and about 12 month&
before that happened John went over to Boston, and
in the course of the afternoon Peter said to him, in
the presence of the prisoner, " All will be right for
you, Jacky ; you'll get what little I have when I
die, for there's no one else for it." The same after-
noon Catharine Wilson, RS housekeeper, made tea,
and after John had partaken of it he became
exceedingly ill, and was taken with sudden
vomiting, and was violently purged—the symp-
toms exhibited by the several victims of Wilson_
Peter sent for a medical man, who at once came;
he said he could do John good, and that he was
only suffering from bowel complaint, brought on by
change of air. He forwarded some medicine, but
after taking a
dose, which was administered by
Catharine, he became worse. Late in the evening,
Peter Mawer was so vexed at the medicine having
a contrary effect to what was expected, that he
threw the bottle containing it at the wall, and
smashed it to pieces. The next morning the medi-
cal man sent him some more medicine, but as the
violent symptoms still continued,:John, ill as he was,
went home to Lincoln, and consulted his own medi-
cal attendant, who, after hearing a statement of the
case, remarked that it was very odd a medical man
should have prescribed a medicine which had such
an effect. A bottle of medicine was given to him,
and he soon recovered. In 1854 Peter Mawer made
a fresh will, leaving his property, which was worth
about £5O a year, to Catharine Wilson, thus setting
aside the will he had previously made in favour of
his brother ; a month afterwards he died under cir-
cumstances of a suspicious nature, and although it
could not be proved that he was poisoned, there can
be no moral doubt that he was, and that Catharine
Wilson was the murderess. Immediately after the
death of his brother, John Mawer consulted Mr.
Tweed, solicitor, of Lincoln, with reference to tak-
ing steps to set aside the will, but as it was properly
drawn up and attested there appeared no chance
of success, and the matter was allowed to
drop. After the conviction of Catharine
Wilson, however, Joan Mawer stated these facts to
his employer (Mr. Ward), and the latter, at the
request of John, wrote to a solicitor at Boston for
•nformation about the will, but received no answer.
Mr. Ward, then, thinking it possible to obtain an
admission from the condemned murderess that coer-
cion and undue influence was used to induce Peter
Mawer to sign the last will—especially as it could
do no harm to her to now acknowledge it if such
was the case—endeavoured to obtain an interview
with her. He accordingl3 wrote to the Sheriff for
permission to visit the condemned, at the same time
time stating his object. In reply he received a
letter stating that Catharine Wi,son refused to see
nim, and therefore he could not grant the permis-
sion required. At this time Mr. Ward happened
to be in London, and he saw Mr. Under-Sheriff
Mackrell, and stated the above facts to him. The
Under-Sheriff said there was not the slightest rea-
son to believe that the condemned woman would
give the information sought for, bat at the same
time be offered to give Mr. Ward an order to see her.
This was declined, but on reaching home Mr. Ward
advised John Mawer to write to Wilson with re-
ference to the will. A letter was accordingly
written by Mawer's wife, and the following reply
(in the handwriting of the prisoner) was received

" Gaol of Newgate, 13th day of October, 1862,

" Sir,—l received your letter this morning. I must
decline your visit with thanks. You say you sincerely
forgive the past. You never had anything to forgive me
of. I always treated you well, and should of treated you
the same had you of come to my house 8 years the 17th of
this month. Then your visit might of been beneficial to
us both. You know the advice of a friend n need is a friend
indeed seldom to be found. I never had any malice to-
wards you and now I have none towards those that has
falsely swore my life away, for I most solemnly declare I
am innocent of those dreadful charges. There has not been
any poison ever traced to my possession or satisfactory
proved that any one had died by poison. At the same time
how much better to die innocent than guilty. I have been
in prison 6 month my time has been spent in seeking that
Savour who alone can save my soul. It matters little what
way the p® )r body is disposed of as long as the soul is all
wright with its Maker. Next Monday by this time I shall
be in Eternity there to give account of deeds done. I am
not afraid to die. I care not what man say of me or what
they think, I will only ask mercy of a offended God and
there sue for pardon. I shall die in peace with all. I
hays had a few lines from George Kent (a young man
who resides in Lincoln) but I was too ill to write and
of course I declined to see him if he came. I will not
see any of my own relations who have beged for a
interview. I saw all the friends that wish to sea me
before my trial, then I never asked any to come to speak
for me,
and since my trial I have refused to see any. I
have been very kindly treated by all since I have been
in prison. 1 have plenty of sympythea from Ladays
who Tide- the prison, and all my wants supplyed here. I
know this letter I received is not written by you. I hope
you have these sentiments that I read in it is my earnest
prayer, and believe me to be your wellwisher. Written by

" CATHARINE WILSON.'
Enclosed in the letter was a copy of verses, headed
" The Question of Questions," and " What think ye
of Christ P" oa which the following words were
written by the condemned To the writer of the
letter, from Catharine 'Wilson, 1862." It will be
seen from thn letter that Wilson entirely bulked
the question put to her, and that nearly the whole
of it is taken up with assertions of her innocence,
and of her being prepared to meet her Maker.

Leader) the with for publication
following,
ng- E ..4a/VreDque:Ha pits.
[A correspondent, " Southron," sends us (Toronto
in our columns. It is from the pen of the famous " Stone-
wall" Jackson, written while he was with the United
States army in Mexico, of which army he was then as he is
now of the Confederate, a brave and efficient officer. Our
correspondent thinks General Jackson must be accorded
the merit of a true poet. The pathos of poetry and true
affection were never more justly delineated.]
The tattoo beats—the lights are gone ;
The camp around in slumber lies ;
The night with solemn pace moves on,
The shadows thicken o'er the skies;
But sleep my weary eyes hath flown,
And sad, uneasy thoughts arise.
I think of thee, oh dearest one,
Whose love my early life hath blest—
Of thee and him—our baby son—.
Who slumbers on thy gentle breast;
God of the tender, frail, and lone,
Oh, guard the gentle sleeper's rest.
And hover, gently hover near
To her, whose watchful eye is wet--
To mother, wife—the doubly dear,
In whose young heart have freshly met
Two streams of love so deep and clear—
And cheer her drooping spirits yet.
Now, while she kneels before Thy throne,
Oh, teach her, Ruler of the skies,
That while by Thy behest alone
Earth's mightiest powers fall or rise,
No tear is wept to Thee unknown,
No hair is lost, no sparrow dies I
That Thou can'st stay the ruthless hands
Of dark disease, and soothe its pain;
That only by Thy stern commands
The battle's lost, the soldier's akin_
That from the distant sea or land
Thou bring'st the wanderer home again.
And when upon her pillow lone
Her tear-wet cheek is sadly pressed,
May happier visions beam upon
The brightening current of her breast—
No frowning look nor angry tone,
woe—.
By
I
Disturb the Sabbath of her rest.
Whatever fate those forms may show,
Loved with a passion almost wild_
By day—byl g
ct night--in joy
wifeora
e
y
By tears oppressed, or hopes beguiled,
From every danger, every foe,
Oh, God
TIAMAS hrrzaeox JAcitsor•
npirohtet—