The Sun.
London, England, 1870-08-09 00:00:00

THE WEATHER AND THE CROPS.

Considerable progress has been made, says the Magnet,
with harvest operations since last week. In the southern
counties the greater part of the corn has been cut, but
owing to the rains which have fallen in most districts not
much has, as yet, been carted, whilst very few samples
have made their appearance at market. Marigolds and
early sown Swedes look well, and the potato crop, gene-
rally, comes up to expectations.
Commenting on the weather and its effects on the
crops, the Mark Lane Express says :—" The week
commenced with storms, and a quantity of rain
fell in some localities, to the aetriment of hay-
' making where this was delayed, but there has not been
near enough to make much improvement in the meadows,
which continue brown and burnt up. The corn harvest,
however, having commenced, it is now more for the
country's interest that the rain should be delayed a fort-
night longer. The heavy dews hinder the thrashing of
that which is gathered, and the grOund is now so warm
that with much wet there would be serious damage.
The influence of the war on the corn trade has
already been materially felt, Prussia having prohibited
the export of corn from all her ports. This has made
some holders of Baltic wheat very sanguine, and orders
from merchants have come down to their factors not to
sell under fully ss. per qr. advance—a price at
present certainly not realised. Still, fine American red,
the nearest substitute for these qualities, has been sought
at is. to 2s. per quarter more money, and there is no telling
how rates are now to range. The weather as well as the
war may raise them, and :we think farmers, under all
these circumstances, with such poor crops of grass and
spring corn, will not be likely to throw their chances
away by prematurely forcing their produce to market.
Let it be remembered that France, one of the belligerents,
is very short as to the yield of wheat,

THE EXECUTION OF THE DENHAM
MURDERER.

Yesterday morning, John Owen, aged 38, a blacksmith,
was executed within the walls of the County Gaol, at Ayles-
bury, for the wilful murder of Emmanuel Marshall, at
Denham, on the 22nd of May, the evidence leaving no
doubt whatever that he also murdered, under circum-
stances of unparalleled atrocity, Marshall's mother, wife,
sister, and three children.
The convict was born at Byfield, near Daventry,
Northamptonshire, where himself and brother were
brought up, like their father, as tailors. Owen early ex-
hibited a dislike for this trade, and was apprenticed to a
omith, and eighteen years ago married in his native town
a woman some ten years older than himself, whom he
always treated, according to her own account, with kindness,
but his conduct was not generally good. He was always
of a roving disposition, and in consequence of stealing a
pistol, he lost the license of a beer-house which he kept,
which was the cause of his breaking up his home ; mid he
started off on the tramp twelve years ago, his wife accom-
panying him on the road as far as Atterbury Gate. They
parted in an affectionate manner, and he promised
to write when he got into work, but she never heard of
him again. Since then he has evidently been in half the
prisons in England, and that he knew Marshall is evi-
denced by the fact that he repeatedly stated that there
was a man near Uxbridge who had some money, and that
he meant to have some of it. It is stated that Marshall
had employed him in his capacity as a tramp smith,
and that having spoilt some wheels, Marshall
had refused to pay him. This would incline one to believe
that the murder was prompted by revenge; but it is more
probable that he went to the cottage on the Sunday morn-
ing for the purpose of plunder, that Marshall, hearing
him, hastily dressed and came down, and then followed the
desperate struggle in which he was killed. The noise of the
scuffice in the smithy aroused the inmates of the house,
who descended the stairs one by one, and the culprit
finding he was discovered, slaughtered all in almost less
time than it takes to narrate; the fact of all their skulls
being cleft right down the centre, iudcicating that with
with one or other of the terrible weapons produced at the
trial, their lives were stamped out with one blow, but
that the murderer subsequently hacked them about to
make quite sure of his victims. Then he ransacked the
house, and bringing the key away, probably meant to
return and complete his plunder, but something inter-
vened to prevent him.

Previous to his conviction his father came up from
Byfield to see him, but his conduct, notwithstanding his
parent was greatly moved, was most repulsive, and the
old man left the prison brokenhearted, never to return to
it, having in vain attempted to induce his son to make a
confession of his guilt. •
_ After his condemnation on the 22nd ult he exhibited no

feeling whatever, but on the ensuing Sunday, he went to
chapel, and was an attentive listener until he came to that
part of the service where the Rev. J. B. Bunbury,t.the
chaplain of the gaol, asked the prayers of the con-
gregation " for a prisoner now lying under sentence of
death in this gaol," when the convict left the chapel and
cried like a child. He soon recovered himself, and be-
haved in the same brutal manner as he had done before,
pursuing a line of conduct which thoroughly disgusted his
warders, although used to scenes of this sort. The
night before the incident we have just re-
corded he was exceptionally troublesome. _ He
had frequently expressed a determination not to
dance in the air if he could help it ; this night he tried all
manner of excuses to get out of his cell. He asked the
height of the galleyy above his row of cells to the stone
floor beneath, and indicated in other ways that he contem-
plated suicide. Since then a stricter watch has been kept
upon him, one warder by day and two by night being his
constant attendants, and as nothing could have prevented
him rushing up the steps and precipitating himself from
them, could he have once escaped his warders, a strong
netting was affixed to the entrance to the gallery, so that
he might be thrown back upon his keepers. Since then
he has given up all thoughts of self-destruction, and
contented himself with abusing and confiding
in his guard, whom he has entertained with
a history of his various incarcerations, boasting
proudly of his exploits, and stating that he could
get out for a fortnight, there were two (using an abomi-
nable expression) he would like to murder ; and there is,
we fear, little doubt, from his brutal conversation, that this
is not the first murder in which he has been engaged.
Among other things he has frequently told his warder
that he'd make his mother a liar, for she'd always said he
would die in his shoes, but he'd kick them off " just before
the job."
During all the time the convict has eaten and drunk
heartily, but his sleep has been very restless. He has
never lain quiet on his pallet more than two hours at a
time, and'then jumping up he would commence whistling,
dancing, and singing until the fit passed off, when he
would lie down again. He frequently talked about the
murders, and declared he never perpetrated the crimes,
but he knew who did. Whenever he was asked
however, to account for his blood-stained clothes being in
Marshall's house, he commenced cursing. and swearing.
He has paid no heed whatever, to the ministrations of the
chaplain, whom he at last put off by saying he was a
Catholic. A priest named Blackwell, was then procured
from Wolverton, but he could make no • im-
pression upon him, the , convict laughing at the
notion of a future state. A Mr. Hunt,
a local preacher and blacksmith, from Weldan, near
Aylesbury seems to have made some impressions on him
it seems, from his wife having formerly kept
company with Owen's brother, who has left the country.
After the visit of Mr. and Mrs. Hunt he wrote a letter to
his wife expressing his sorrow for leaving her and asking
her forgiveness, and desiring to see her. She accord-
ingly reached Aylesbury on Thursday, but he
only reproached her with having caused him
to leave her. In a fit of remorse he said she
might come again next day, when his conduct was much
altered, and he cried like a child and asked her forgive-
ness. She endeavoured to draw a confession from him,
but he declared that he was innocent. On Friday he had
grown much quieter, and gave her a missal which the
Catholic priest had left him, inscribed to his wife "from
her affectionate husband John Owen."
On Sunday Mr. and Mrs. Hunt, and his niece and her
husband were constant in their ministrations upon him,
as well as the Independent and Primitive Methodist
preachers of Aylesbury. He had now become somewhat
sobered down, asked where the soul went after it left
the body, and frequently cried and prayed with his
visitors, stating that he was ready to die, and hoped
he was going to a better world, but when
the murder was touched upon steadily declared his
innocence. His friends bade him an affectionate farewell
at night. _

Before lying down to sleep one of his guard again got
him to repeat a few words of prayer. He passed a good
night and awoke at 20 minutes past three, when he walked
round his cell some time, and then wrote three letters to
his friends, having sent six away the night before. At
six he made a hearty breakfast of a pint and a half of
tea, a 21b. loaf, and two plates of meat. His conduct was
still quiet and occasionally nervous, but in the main he
may be said to have preserved his bravado to
the end, and died without repenting of his dreadful
crimes. He had seen Calcraft walking in the garden,
yesterday, and on leaving his cell shook hands with him,
and, told him to do his duty. During the process of
pinioning he was quite quiet, and walked out, into the
yard with a firm step, giving a hasty glance on either
side, as if watching an opportunity to escape his doom.
When told which way to go he raised his eyes, and as he
ascended the first step of the scaffold seemed to see the
beam for the first time, and lowered his eyes, but ascended
the scaffold with the half military step which has charac-
terised him all through, and stood firmly under the. beam.
bringing his legs close together for the adjustment of' the
strap in the same soldierly manner. After the white cal)
had been put over his head, he said, " I want to say
something," and on its being removed turned to the as-
sembled people and said, "Friends, I want to address a
few words to you ;" then, after a moment's hesitation, " I
am going to die for the wilful murder of Charles Mar-
shall, no, Charles—l forget his name—Marshall, at
Denham, but lam innocent." In the next instant
the cap was readjusted, and at seven minutes past
eight the bolt was withdrawn. There was a slight twitch-
ing of the muscles for two minutes, and then all was over.
A black flag was hoisted on the prison wall simultaneously
With the fall of the drop, intimating to the 500 or 600
assembled outside that the last sentence of the law
hitd . been carried into effect. The body was cut
dtrwai at mine o'clock, and the inquest. was held shorth-
afterwards. COombes, through whose instrumentality t 4
culprit was brought to justice, walked all the, way Lim
'Oxbridge, and obtained the special permission of Mr.
Tyndal, at the last minute, to see the execution.