The Sun.
London, England, 1865-07-01 00:00:00

THAMES.

ATTEMPTED MURDER OF A WOMAN BY HER PARAMOUR.
—Henry Smith, a dock labourer, aged 49, was brought
before Mr. Partridge charged with attempting to murder a
young woman named Esther Cooke by stabbing her on the
neck with a knife.

It appeared that the prosecutrix and the prisoner had
lived together as man and wifo. Their quarrels had been
frequent, and she was subjected to great violence from him.
He was a very brutal fellow. They separated 12 months
ago, and the prisoner since that time frequently annoyed
and threatened the woman because she declined to renew
the connexion which formerly existed. She obtained a
comfortable living as a charwoman. Last night she went
into the tap-house of the St. George Brewery, Church-
lane, with a female acquaintance, and they remained there
two hours over a pint of beer. The prisoner was there, he
did not exchange a word with the woman, but he occa-
sionally nodded to them and laughed at them. He
left the house a quarter of an hour before them.
When they left the beerhouse he was on the opposite side
of the way. The prisoner asked Cooke to come across the
way to him. She went to the edge of the kerb stone, and
stood there. The prisoner came across the road to her,
and she leant against the beerhouse door. The prisoner
said, "Are you going to stick in there," to which she re-
plied, " Yes ; I have no other place to go." The prisoner
said, " I'll be hung for you." The woman said, "I do not
care." He then put his hand in his pocket, opened a clasp
knife, and stabbed her on the throat. The blade of the
knife went through her bonnet strings, and sho was soon
covered with blood. The prisoner ran away. She pursued
him a short distance, with the blood gushing from the
wound, and called out "Murder, murder, stop him." She
soon fell from exhaustion, caused by the loss of blood, and
was raised by the bystanders, who carried her to the station-
house in Leman-street,Whitechapel, to charge the prisoner.
Ile was captured by George Foster, a police-constable, No.
207 11, as ho vas running across the High-street. Foster
said the prisoner made a laugh of the affair, and gloated
over what he had done.

Jane Withenall, a married woman, confirmed the state-
ment of Esther Cooke as to the occurrences of the preced-
ing night in every particular, and added that a week ago,
in a conversation with the prisoner, he said, in speaking of
the prosecutrix, " I'll be hanged for her. I'll do for her.
I'll stab her."

Mr. John Connley, surgeon, of High-street, Whitechapel,
said he dressed the wound of the prosecutrix at the station
house. She lost a largo quantity of blood, and had been
very ill and weak all night. A severe wound had been
inflicted just above the neck bone. It took an oblique
direction, was an inch and a half in depth, and three-
quarters of an inch in width. Had it not taken the direc-
tion it did the wound would have been fatal.
The prisoner said ho would reserve his defence, and Mr.
Partridge committed him for trial.

THE QUIRE OF EARNDALE.-It was a famous
quire, which every year—once or twice in the year
—strangers would come to listen to. It consisted of but
five men, one of whom played a clarionet with bold, firm
tone, that sustained the treble, and gave confidence to the
crack-voiced boys and rough-voiced girls who hardly
stood in need of encouragement. Another played a violon-
cello, to which he had attached a fifth string tuned
to F F, in order to add sonority to the deeper
bass. A third performer played the flute, on which
he executed the counter-tenor part as it was written
for him in the G clef, above the treble or air.
Of the remaining two men, one sang the air
with the clarionet, only an octavo lower, and the last sang
the bass. But besides this, the violoncello player sang
bass, tenor, or air, or counter-tenor in a screaming fal-
setto, one part or the other as he deemed it necessary to
ornament or support the service of song. Such was the
Quire of Earndale ; they sang pluckily, and made a cheer-
ful, if not a melodious noise. I gave them supper once a
year, but could not induce them to adopt more ecclesiastical
music than glees and songs set to sacred words. Still, we
were better off than the Meeting, where they all sang in
discordant chorus, while the parson played the big fiddle
in the pulpit. Like other things in Earndale, the quire
was an institution, and I did not attempt to remove it.
But after five years clarionet left the valley, and we began
to feel symptoms of dissolution. Flute wouldn't play the
air, it was so tame ; and when remonstrated with, with-
drew and carried off tenor with him to the Meeting. Still
we had a sturdy voice for the air, and the rural "master
of song." But alas ! the master, always fond of drink,
became so uproarious that we were obliged to dismiss
him. The crisis came when a stranger was taking duty
for me. A new tune of Abel's own composing
was to be sung, one full of eccentric turns and
intricate distances. The quire made a start, quavered, and
broke down. Abel sounded the note anen,, and again they
broke down : this time a pause. "Let us pray," said the
officiating clerk, meekly. " Pmybe blowed !" shouted Abel.
" Let's try again." It was Abel's last Sunday of office.
For some Sundays we tried congregational singing, our one
remaining voice, with the help of a pitch-pipe, leading the
tune ; but bit by bit the congregation grew tired of a duty
which had devolved upon paid officials, and many a tune was
sung by good old Jamie and the children,—he, with spec-
tacles on nose and book in hand—while the other hand,
hooked in his red waistcoat, beat time on his breast to the
tune : save when, in some pathetic verse, it was released to
cuff some youngster who gave tongue too lustily, and didn't
appreciate the `temper' of the strain. Then in our perplexity
we procured a small barrel organ, which had seen service
in a room used for dancing on week-days, and service on
Sundays. It was a peculiar instrument: the first time we
tried it, it went off like a musical snuff-box, and played all
the tunes successively, including a valse and " Merrily
Danced the Quaker's Wife." Earndale has not forgotten
that Sunday yet. The wardens and sexton managed to
carry it out (it was not large) into the churchyard, but
even there it fired away tune after tune amid the snow and
cold till all the machinery was unwound.—Cornhill
Magazine far July.

The South Wales and Great Western Direct
Railway Bill has been passed by a committee of the
House of Lords, presided over by Earl. Amherst.
The proposed line will cross the Severn near Chop-
stow, by a high level bridge, at an elevation of 100
feet above high Water mark. The importance of
this line as providing means for bringing the coal
of South Wales to London was fully recognised in
its progress through both Houses of Parliament.