The Sun.
London, England, 1846-02-16 00:00:00

upon you, prizing you more than aught else earth can give.
If you wish not to make me very sad and miserable, be cheer-
ful, and drive those thoughts from you about death ; we all
must go when we are called, but there is surely no need to
anticipate the coming of the King of Terrors, and alarming
those who love you so much by evil forebodings, which God
avert. Such, certainly, indeed, would be a severe blow to
your parents ; how much greater to me ? who, for the last
and happiest years of his life has thought of you as his bride
in every hope, and dream, and future plans you are mixed ;
and, indeed, all my beautiful fabrics to fall to the 'earth ;
'twould be too bad, dear Mary, to inflict such a pang. Pray
think not of such gloomy things, I beseech you. Life for
one so young ought to be a light vision. You will say lam
a tiring. 1 will cease. Do not laugh at the various pieces
of paper I send you. You know my fondness for writing
on little pieces. Adieu! every earthly blessing be yours is
the sincere wish of yours, much attached, till death.
"WASHINGTON FERRERS."
Another letter came shortly afterwards :
" Dearest Mary,—Your parcel and last note reached me the
day ere yesterday, and though much engaged I write imme-
diately to thank you for them. The handkerchief I shall prize
above all other handkerchiefs. Thank you much, 'Rarest.
Your note I have read and re-read. I am grieved to hear so
ill an account of you—not from your note, for that says nothing,
but from my brother, whom I saw, and who told me he had
seen you. What is the reason of all this, that you should be
so ill? By day and by night it haunts me. I have thought for
some time you have not, dearest, been yourself; but when I
have asked you, you have always most dexterously changed the
subject.lN ow it really distresses me very much, and vexes me too.
You are so very reserved, and never tell me anything, though
you must know how anxious I am about you. Really I
think it unkind, never hardly mentioning in note your
being out of health. Now, do write soon, and tell me
if you are better, for I shall be down in the country for
perhaps another week or fortnight, unless I come down one
day and return the next to see you, but I hope you will shortly
be better. Do not work, do not do anything to tire pie, but
get well. Would it not be well to go to some watering-place
for a month? I think change of scene would benefit you.
What does Taylor say of you? I have foreseen this some
time, and told you how careful you should be. No doubt you
have caught cold from not wrapping warmly. Naughty girl !
so much as I have raid to you about it ! Dearest, do take care
of yourself. Surely all ought to be right by May; for you
know then you are to be mine, and I shall have to watch
over and take care. Then it will—will it not?—be joy and
happiness for me to have you quite mine own. Dear one and
most beloved, remember health is the first consideration.
Ah ! take care of your precious self. Evelyn (cousin) is ap-
pointed one of the guardians to the young Hastings.. You
would, perhaps, see this in the papers. With several other gen•
tlemen I often go to hear the speeches in the House. Really,
tis a great treat, and what you would like, and your father too,
much, I fancy. When we stay in London. after our marriage,
he must come up ; then he will have the pleasure of hear-
ing his friend Sir Robert speak. What a clever fellow
he is. Young Lord Clive I was introduced to the other day
by my cousin. He is thought much of, but I think, though a
young man of abilities, he is a thorough army, which means a
gay, fashionable, dashing, gambling young man, not one whom
I could wish to make a friend of. I have had seat to C
a dozen very pretty chairs and a large swing glass for your espe-
cial use, fair ladye, and have ordered furniture for your
own room. lam going to Brighton for a day or two to see
my sister, who is very unwell ; then to Eattington on business
with Mrs. Shirley, so it may be some days or a week or two
ere I see you ; at all events, you will hear from me soon again,
telling you of my movements. Lord Claude Hamilton, a
friend of Devereux (I don't like the man, a thorough cox-
comb), called for him at my rooms the other day, but he was
gone to Brighton, so he went after him. My very good
brother knows about twice as many of these sprigs of nobility
as I do. They all like him. His wit and versatility make him
liked, I think. The fashions here are much the same. The bon •
nets not. Very pretty plumes are universally worn. Went to
see the " Bohemian Girl" again. ' Tis very good. See very
much of Evelyn.' Mrs. Shirley comes to town next week. I
am to have the honour of escorting her—Mrs. Walker—
no better—l hate her husband ; consequently see nothing of
the lady, but I see there has been some cause of distrust
between the two, and with that there can be no happiness.
I have been trying to get a beautiful dog for you, but the
owner will not part with him—one of those Italian greyhounds.
Since I have been here ray hand has been most p sinful. You
should receive more books on Saturday ; I have ordered them
for you. They will serve to while away the time. I shall
not tell you what they are. You will see. Is there any-
thing, dearest, you would like or wish for; write instantly and
say to me: then you shall have it. I shall soon write again
to you again, if Ido not come. Let no one see this scrawl.
And, dear Mary, begging you to take every care of yourself,
and not to fear about anything, nor put yourself about at all ;
for it is great nonsense. I roust conclude, as you will be tired
of reading what I write; but I must tell you that the other
day I had ordered two beautiful plates to be sent to me—one
of Oliver Cromwell proroguing the Long Parliament, and the
other of Mary Queen of Scots. Also I have purchased a
beautiful carpet for your room at C—. Evelyn stepped in
and caught me looking at my purchases. He laughed, and
asked me what I, a bachelor, should do with those fine things;
or if they were for presents? I said I should send them to
the country—that they were for myself. He admired my taste,
and remarked the next thing would be a wife, he supposed.
Nothing more was said. A piano must be the next thing
thought of; but of that more when we meet. Atkins will
bring you this. You have nothing to do but to take it—the
parcel altogether. And now adieu, dearest love. Please be
cheerful and happy. Order Bouley to make you a handsome
frame for your work. I have just bad a new dressing-case for
my brother, which I shall take him when I go to Brighton.
Will you pardon this letter, and send the other handkerchief
with a note—when finished. Say, is there anything you wish
for I can get you here? It is thought O'Connell will be pu-
nished severely. lam sorry for him. Lord Brougham dined
with me yesterday. I like him well. He comes here to.mor.
row. Talbot is down, but returns in a day or two. Ido not
enter much into the amusements of a London life, nor do I
like them particularly ; my promised wife will be all on earth
to me. lam reading much snore, as I really find myself want-
ing here amongst all these great men. I was surprised to
find what a good Italian scholar Evelyn is. He knows the lan-
guage well. Adieu now, dearest. Ever, ever thirk of me as
your own truly attached
" WASHINGTON FERRERS.
" Remember me to your sister Anne. Adieu."

. .. .
shall write to your mamma. I think it will be Wet—will it not 7'
Adieu. ' -I

" Miss Smith, Austrey, Atherstone."
Some considerable doubt had arisen in the minds of
the parents of this young lady when the marriage was
put off. The month of May had been fixed. It was
about that time that paragraphs had appeared in the
newspapers, hinting at some intended marriage between
Earl Ferrers and some other young lady, and she wrote
to him in her anxiety and terror: he, in one way, dis-
pelled alarm, but at the same time created alarm on
another ground, by a postponement of the day of the
marriage for a month or two. The father and the
mother were not satisfied, and after a family discussion
it was determined to write to Earl Ferrers demanding a
declaration as to the time when the marriage should take
place, and the father received the following letter in
answer:—

" My Dear Sir,—This note ought to have been with you
long ago, but
better late than never!' is the old adage. May it
apply in my case. Without entering into particulars, lam
aware you know that in secret 1 have long sought your eldest
daughter, more openly I ask her of you for my wife. I hope
you will not refuse me her. Ere this I should have come per-
sonally to have made this request to you, had not untoward.cir-
cumstances p-evented. I hope shortly to see you ; then, if
convenient, we can arrange about her settlement, &c. I have
mentioned August as the month to her. I hope when we meet
every thing—all things will meet with your approbation, and of
Mrs. Smith.
" Allow me to sign myself, very faithfully, yours,
" W. FERRERS.

" Chartley, June '24."
This letter satisfied the parents' minds.

" My dearest Mary—You must have been expecting me ere
and I should have come but have been obliged to go up
town. To-morrow I am again going to London. Enclosed

you will find a note for your father, which please give him.
Since I saw you, I have been very unwell—but again am In
tolerable health. I trust you are keeping up your health and
spirits—for in August we will go—from England. You would
see nothing about me this time as to the review. I shall, I
think, go out, but more of this when I see you, whick will not
be long first, though I don't know how long I may be in town.
The colour of our travelling carriage is blue, it will be a very
beautiful one, and I hope will please you. Will you not be
surprised to hear I have voted on the Tory side with Sir
Robert, and I think I have done rightly. What will you say,
dearest ? I hope your father will excuse the writing of that
note; it is very untidy. Will he think it sufficient ? My own
beloved one, do not be sad and sorrowful ; keep up your spirits,
and try and get quite yourself again, or else people may say it
was not by a fair inclination you chose me—though if they
knew all. Certainly ours has been a romantic
affair—to say the least of it. Do not listen to what report says
of me. I will try by my conduct to prove to you they have
spoken falsely, and that you will never sigh for your present
home—my whole—thought will be the desire to see you satis-
fied and happy, my only hope. What can I say more ? Would
it not be well for you to go out somewhere for a week or two?
Do try and get quite well. Write soon to me at Chartley. I
shall, if I stay in town, write from thence. Evelyn does not
know of our engagement. Devereux I have written to. Eld
I think will stay with me, not Arden. Perhaps I may take my
seat before we are married. Will your mamma see about your
waiting-woman for you, dearest? I think old Neville of Tam-
worth shall make your settlement, but when I see your father
then we will have all these things over. Pardon this writing,
my candles have gone out. Adieu, dearest. Write soon.
From " Your ever attached,

_ .
" Chartley Castle, June 24. " WASHINGTON FERRERS.
"Miss Smith, Austrey, Atherstone."
The last letter he should read was this,—
" Shirley Wick, July 13.
" My Own Mary,—What will you think of me—what say
—that ere this your future husband has not been to
see you, or written? I_ should have been with you now,
but have been laid up for the last ten days, having
been really very ill at the Shirleys, continual fainting
fits, &c. lam now better, have taken rooms at the Granby,
and as soon as lam able to travel shall be with you. I should
have come on Monday, but was not well enough, and awl dying
to see you. You must make a longer stay at Harrowgate for me
to be with you—dear one. Your note, I thank you for your
note—your kind, sensible, and amusing note, which was
forwarded to me. Tuesday evening or Wednesday you
will certainly see me, for though I am yet ill, I
think Knight will let me come to you, and I hope we
shall have a happy time together, Remember me with all re-
spect to your mamma. Say that I should have been with you,
on Saturday, but, instead, had the pleasure of being bled. 51)
own beloved one, dear above everything else on this earth.
think of me.. Oh I often think of me ; for my thoughts are
constantly with you, my own. Do not be surprised if I come
quite in cog., and stay with you at the Swan. Remember you
the quantity of -- and the potent stain of the walnuts. Lock
out for me on—Tuesday; I mean on Wednesday—if not Tues-
day evening. Tell mamma to look well if she will not recog-
nise me in the pale and tall young man she may meet at the
Swan. fill then adieu, my own, my promised bride, adieu.
D. has been at York.

" Ever yours, till death, FERRERS."
There was the most positive proof of the promise, buy
he would venture to express his regret that any noble-
man should have descended to put upon the record a
plea of minority. He should not do justice to this young
lady if he withheld from them all allusion to what he
understood was to be the most extraordinary defenct
that he had ever met with in or out of a court of justice.
They who had heard but a smal pat t of the numerous
letters which bad been written would participate in his
astonishment when he told them that the defence was

that Earl Ferrers never spoke to this young lady in hiF
life, and that all these letters were one tissue of
forgery and fabricaticn from Legirtning to end.
All he could say was, that if it should turn out
to be so, it would surpass anything among the pos-
sibilities of human life—that a young girl should hay.
made such a claim upon a young nobleman, and carry it
out in a manner which would have puzzled the most
skilful -and experienced imitator of handwriting. II(
could itraAine that, if any one was wicked or bold enougl,

to determine to commit a forgery of a promise of mar-
riage, to extort money by means of conspiracy and for
gery, he could imagine that such a person might forge

Then there was another letter :
" The second handkerchief I received, dearest Mary; sod
with it your own kind and sensible note ; 'tis goodito hear from
you, best and most beloved, and those note'
smVki me more than
ever satisfied with she whom I have chosen for my future wife,
only for the shade of gloom contained in them, do I get into
what is vulgarly termed a fidget, and wander. But of this say
no more. I must now tell you I have been for three days con-
fined to my bed with pain, chiefly arising from ray arm. lam
now better, but still in pain. But, dear Mary, do not let this
alarm you. I shall soon be quite well again. The Shirleys
are very kind to me. I hope next week to have finished my
affairs here, but cannot tell when I shall see you. But you
will hear from me again if Ido not come home. I think the
cold took my hand when I travelled to Eatingdon, for I have
never been well since. I hope you are indeed better than when
I saw you. Remember your promise to um ; if there be any-
thing you wish for, pray do not scruple mentioning it; Re-
collect, all I have is at yoar command ; for the all would be
nothing without you—more precious to me than aught else
earthly. The Shirleys have a Sir Terence Volney with them
from Berkshire, a strange person, being pleasant, and an en-
thusiast as regards religion ; rich, and not over young. He, I
fancy, wishes to make me a proselyte to his opinions, but as
I regards that most sacred of all subjects, mine own are fixed.
I think we both agree in those opinions. He argues well. I
have been reading tome of Miss Bremer's' The Home,' and
President's Daughters ' There is much excellence in both
works. Mrs. S. -has them. As you have them, I did not
think it worth while again purchasing them. CI atsworth,' I
fear, you will not think so good. Ward has conde,cended to
actual book-raking in this work. Shall we rot have much
pleasure in going on the Continent together, to Italy, or where
our fancy leads us. I hope you may be recovered sufficiently
fur the tour. I can assure you, Mary, Ido not mean to wait
longer than June at latest; but we will yet look for the ac-
complishment of those hopes dearest to me in that bright
month of all others, May ! Will it not be a surprise to all the
people around, the sudden bridal, my own and only love?
dearly I prize thee, and how much think of thee. The here-
after must prove. I cannot tell thee sufficiently all I feel for
thee ; would Mary I were sure thou felt half as much for
me. My home will indeed be a home when thou art in it
to brighten everything. Lady of my heart and earliest love,
what fond remembrances enfold themselves round thy image ;
all my hopes and fears, boyish and manly, are with thee. My
happiness begins with thee. My happiness begins with thee
—with thee will end. The roses of my existence, pure white
rose, thou may'et be compared to, and ail thy thoughts are pure
as drifted snow, and as such I prize thee my own love, far thou
wilt snake my life blissful and happy—only take care of your-
self, and remember you are mine. Therefore if you love me
and not yourself, take things quietly and be happy. I hear
my cousin's step. If lam at all fit I shall be obliged to go to
Derbyshire next week to see amongst others, Jessop, my con-
fidential attorney, one of the tribe whom Evelyn calls blood-
suckers to we young and indiscreet people. Nevertheless, they
are very necessary beings, and I cannot do without Mr.
Jessop. I had the other day a paper sent me, that is thrown
in at Myatt's, containing a long paragraph about Needham,
&c. I should not think it was meant for me. It was
handed by a very common looking person. The account
was about a kind of carriage. Needham has it ap-
pears secretary there to. This was before I saw you last Sun-
day. My sister is not yet in good health. I have been too
poorly to visit her, but shall do so ere I come down to stay. Do
not tire yourself with working on your frame to much—'tis
not good for you in your present weak state. I must have a
new carriage built for us in the spring. Our wedding will be
such a quiet one ; but we will have a handsome carriage and
beautiful greys. There is a quotation in your note from your
Byron. Ah, dearest, that beautiful dream ? • She was his
,life ; the ocean to the of his thoughts, which terminated
all.' So thou art my life—the gleam of sunshine in the dark
cloud. 1 the cloud, you the sunshine. God will give thee to
me for my bride, my happiness, and we shall walk together on
earth, and look to meet also in the land of souls. A spirit of
poetry passes through me when I think of thee ; and yet there
is a shade of gloom passes often over your countenance, and
then I think you are not satisfied and happy, but I will speak
no more of these things. If there is anything you wish for,
dearest, only breatbe it to me, and if in my power to grant, it
is yours. Deo has joined his regiment ere this, though I have
not heard from him lately Now I will say adieu.
Writ to me as before
me, as ever, to remain,
"Sunday. " Your sincerely attached friend,
" WASHINGTON FERRERS.
"Miss Smith, Austrey, Atherstonc."
There was another letter written to her father, to which
he would call their attention, because it would be made
the subject of an attack upon the character of this young
lady. There had been an allusion to Earl Ferrers
having lost 3,000/., and he had mentioned that she was
not dressed as suited his taste ; but as he stated he
was rather in want of money, he desired her to pur-
chase some articles, and to consider them as presents
from him. She had accordingly done so, and expected
tlint
them.
unhappily, he would The
f money,o
mfuar hernieshof with the money to pay for
however, w
shame, was
she
et
(floirdtnhoctomlikinegt„ea
tellnd ,
her
btsmhnooe:m paeweamnrrpeitoetu turtt
eosnsnotpnt
ahtsooy,af t
Earl
afrhoaboerromrl
ut
Fwhtweee
whom
zarl
met: hrttiys
she
eoaresYne ewdshrs
ahehdhdi
which
hpdt
louasnrrdhoc
het awe se payment.
purchased
eewgdyoe oaha
drte
wearing
hhtgt
to
calm her fears as to the bills, as he would come
down and settle them ; he, however, did not come
down, and the result was that she was tormented by per-
sons who had claims against her. At length, however,
she was compelled to tell the whole truth to her father,
f theh
money." her
e
and to say,e " I have bought a number of things, they are
resents from Terrors,Lfaotrhder
was ml x extremely he
e is to furnish
yangry ur
when
found that instead of
bleman ought, he had neg
comliencgtefdortwoasredndprtohpeemrlyonaesy a; nthoe-
and he had sent this
answer ;
defendant was therefore written to,

few-lines or a signature to support a-promise of marriage.
but for a young lady to sit down and forge a mass of
paper such as he held in his hand appearee
to him incomprehensible and not be credited
That, how ever, he understood to be the de
fence. He should call before them many wit
tiesses—others he ought to have been in a situation t,
have called, but this was no equal conflict between thi,
girl and Earl Ferrers. Several persons' who might have
given
ofthese letters v
evidence had
‘erefusedre sent
tto give any information.
None by
the post, but by pri-
vate hand, but he thought be should be able to show that
they came through the hands of a person of the name o
Ash. He should call before them Mr. Arden,
a clergyman, who was for five or six year,
the chaplain of Earl Ferrers—was his constant
friend and companion. Ile had looked at thfa,
letters, and he could not be mistaken upon the point.
and he would tell them that it 'was his belief that those
letters were in the hand-writing of Earl Ferrers. He
should call another gentleman, who belonged to the same
troop of yeomanry—a man of strict honour and integrity,
but who came forward reluctantly ; he, however, woul,
tell them that be had a similar belief. They would fine.
much in these letters of fiction and romance, and h,
would show them that Earl Ferrers did systematically
d-part from the truth—he could not help alluding t,
things that had never existed ; but they would find allu-
sion made to circumstances about which Miss Smiti
must have been totally ignorant ; and, therefore, it wa:
impossible she could have written those letters. Ear,
Ferrers said he had never seen this young lady.
He should prove that they had many times been seen •
walking together near her father's house. lie would
also show that she had a ring which had been worn
by Earl Ferrets. It would appear that Earl Ferrers.
whether from natural incapacity or from a peculiar con-
stitution of mind, was unfitted for a liberal education.
his education being below that of a charity boy. He
wrote bad grammar, his sentences were ill-constructed.
and there was a total want of punctuation in his letters.
They would not expect to find those defects in the let-
ters of a well-educated person, but this young lady was
highly accomplished, and could not have written suet
letters. lie would not say one word to them on the
subject of damages. They would appreciate the terrible
wrong this young lady had suffered ; they would recol-
lect the wealth of the defendant, and he shoul4. be con.
tent with the manner in which they exercised their
honest disci% tion.
The Rev. Edward Francis Arden—l em a clergyman
of the Church of England, and was formerly chaplain ti
Earl Ferrers, and was his companion. I became hi:
chaplain in 1842. I had been acquainted with him
before. He went abroad in 1840, and returned it
1842, when oar intimocy ss as renewed ; that was at
the funeral of the late Earl, in October, 1842.
was his constant companion from that time till I lef
him, on the 29th of May, 1844; he was then at his hous,
at Stanton Harold; he is also th 6 owner of Chartley
Castle. I used to travel with Lord Ferrers, and ha(
opportunities of knowing his habits and his handwriting!
his education was rather imperfect. I have been shown
several letters, purporting to have been writen by Lore
Ferrers; that was twelve months ago. Before that I
had never known the Smith family. I read portions ol
those letters. I believe those letters which are note
shown to me are in the handwriting of -Lord Ferrers;
some of them are addressed to Miss Smith and some to
Mr. Smith. According to his habit of writing, his letters
vary iii size; his punctuation is singular, because he does
not care to do it. Lord Ferrers sometimes fenced, and
upon one occasion he met with an accident; I cut hi,
fingers with a sword in fencing. I have heard him
express his intention to marry a Welsh lady. I have
seen Earl Ferrers disguise himself after the fashion of
the toll-gate breakers; he used to put a night-cap over
his whiskers, and tie his pocket-handkerchief over his
hat, and then he used to go out at night. I have seen
Earl Ferrers wear a ring like the one produced.
Cross examined—l did duty at Stowe and Stanton
Harold. I lived in a house at Stowe. I did not live in
Chartley Castle. Lord Ferrers has only a room or two
at Stanton Harold. I suppose he disguised himself only
in a bit of fun. I have been disguised myself many a
time. I have taken my shirt off and put it outside my
coat, and a handkerchief over my hat. I believe I have
sallied out in this disguise at night. I don't think I
wore it the whole night. My disguises were different.
While I have been resting on the sofa Earl Ferrers has
put mustachios on my face. In his dining-room I sup-
pose Le might do what he liked with me, and he did.
The disguises were merely a bit of a lark of a schools
is,y. I suppose I am not obliged to answer what my
age is. I could tell you if I would. My age
is about thirty-seven, and this occurred about three or
four years ago. When I went out in disguise I perhaps
went a couple of miles. We did nothing. People met us
and saw us. I believe they knew us. I had lived as a
clergyman in that neighbourhood four or five years be-
f‘,re that time. You don't know what my other disguises
were, and never shall. It was after dinner. I am sure
I don't know whether I was sober. I was sober 'when I
walked two miles in disguise. I am not aware of any
complaints having been made of my having been fre-
quently intoxicated. I had merely heard the chat of
the country-, that I was a little bit careless. It was not
carelessness of my duty. I don't see why my character
should be pryed into by you. I heard no complaints.
Chat about what ?—Chat about humbug. People will
talk. If you had been there, they would have talked
about you.
Mr. Justice WIGHTMAN—Mr. Arden, for the sake of
your own character, I recommend you to be more careful.

6' Tuesday, Ashley.
" Sir,—lt is my will and wish to instantly pay d
fofeel r allver at
Tamworth as soon as may be. This much I sai, y

THE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 16, 1848.

Witness—l believe they did say I was intoxicated. '
I say I was not intoxicated. I swear that batween
18-12 and 1844 I was not intoxicated. I mean to say I
was sober when I assumed disguises. People have their
senses about them. I was sober. I was not dismissed
as chaplain. After I left as chaplain I went to stay at
Chartley Castle. I stayed there one night. Lord
Ferrers was not there. I stayed two nights at the
village, at Mr. Ingram's, a surgeon. I was not turned
out of his house. At- that time Ingram's daughter and
I were not turned out of doors. I afterwards returned
to Ingram's, and he told me to keep off his premises.
He told me so because he is a fool and a blackguard. I
saw his daughter afterwards. I have not been living
with Ingram's daughter. I have seen her at the house
in which she now lives, at Stoke Farm, new Stow, in
Staffordshire. I have a perpetual curacy in Norfolk. I
have never travelled with Miss Ingram except a ride. I
have been at Birmingham and Stafford with her. I have
not been driving about the country with her since she
left her father's roof. I have done that sort of thing,

but Hot latterly. I have been to Birmingham with her
once. I lived at a public-house at Stow, called the
Cock. I used to meet my parishoners there...l was
there two months at one time. I should think, at a

rough guess, 1 have bee❑ there twenty weeks. I beg,
leave to say I was not intoxicated there. Whether I
drank much is another t• ing. I have drank with the
landlord, sometimes one thing and sometimes another ;

what I happened to fancy. I was always in my senses
there, which I mean when I say I was not intoxicated.

I have corresponded with Lord Ferret-A—merely having
a note or two from him, not a cerrespondence.
I believe the letters pi-educed to be his. I knew Mr.
Collis, of Birmingham, a jeweller. I called upon
him in Augu,t lust, accompanied by Miss Ingram ;
he asked me to dine with him. After dinner I asked him

whether he had mended a ring for Lord Ferrers ? he
said he had. I asked him whether he should know it
again, and whether he would accept a subpoena, as Lord
Ferrers had given Miss Smith that ring ? I don't think
I asked Collis if he could prove the handwriting of Lord
Ferrers—he said he knew the handwriting, and thought
he knew something about the ring. He did not ask me
while I was helping the plaintiff. I said Lord Ferrers
and I had been great friends, that I had written to him
since his marriage, but I had not got an answer that I
bad gone to Chartley, but Lord Ferrers refused to see'
me—that I had met Lord and Lady Ferrers, and had
taken off my hat, but they had not taken any notice
of me. I never spoke disrespectfully of Lord
Ferrers. Mr. Collis did not tell me that, in consequence
of the habits I had fallen into, I need not be surprised
that Lord Ferrers had not noticed me. I said I had seen
the letters, and they were not all in the same hand-
writing. Some of the letters are in our attorney's hands.
Those product d to-day I believe to be in the handwriting
of Lord Ferrero. I told Collis Lord Ferrers had behaved

ill, and I should be obliged to appear in Court against
him. I know Mr. Ell and his son. I have had a con-
versation with them about these letters. I told them
that most of the letters 1 believed to be Lord Ferrers's.
I said there was one I could swear to. I have said to

them that there was only one of the letters shown to me
which I bebeied to be Lord Ferrers's, and that I could
not swear to ; but I said that months ago.
Re-examined—l said there was one letter I could
swear to, and I fully believed the rest to be Lord Fer-
rers's. The plaintiff's attorney first showed me the
letters in Norfolk twelvemonths ago, and I now fully be-
lieve the letters I have seen to-day to be in the hand-
writing of Lord Ferrers. With regard to those letters
I never entertained a different opinion than that I have
expressed to-day. I was not an acquaintance of the
plaintiff's family during the time we were in the habit
of putting on the disguises ; but I was the intimate com-
panion of Lord Ferrers. I was frequently with him. I
have seen Mr. Collis with the defendant when he was
Lord Tamworth, but not since he has been Lord
Ferrers. He then visited him. I was not dis-
missed from my office of chaplain. On two oc-
casions I have seen Lord Ferrers write notes.
John Routledge Mejondie—l am brother-in-law 01
the Deun of Bangor, who is connected with the Ferrers
family. I am major in the Staffordshire Yeomanry.
Lord Ferrers was likewise an officer. I never saw Lord
Ferrers write. Our correspondence has been very slight.
I have seen some of these letters. The characters of the
letters are smaller than those in the notes I have received
from Lord Ferrers. The signature is very much like
his lordship's. I don't like this one (No. 4) so much
Had I received such letters by post I should have be-
lieved them to have come from Lord Ferrers.
Cross examined.—l shoul l think I have received four
notes from Lord Ferrers. In these letters his signature
"Washington Ferrers," but in my notes the signature
was Ferrers" only. I have seen the signature of Lord
Ferrers in two "pay lists." The letter (No. 4) begins
"Dearest Mary." I never sa v those words written be
role in any tf Lord Ferrers's notes ; in those to me he
did not write in the superlative degree ; it was "Dear"
only, I never saw any one of hi; love letters before.
Mr. Perkin—l am clerk to the adjutant of the Stafford-
shire Yeomanry. 1 know Lord Ferrers. I have seen
him write to ice in signing two Government pay lists.
Several letters have been shown to me by the plaintiff's
ttorney. I believe the signatures to these letters to be
in the writing of Lord Ferrers. Some are more like his
writing than others. I have seen Lord Ferrers wear a
ring like this.
Cross-examined—l have never seen any writing of
Lord Ferrers's except the name " Ferrers," and was
first shown five or six letters, and I said I only believed
one to'be in the writing of Lord Ferrers; one of those
letters was signed "sCaptain Monks."
Re examined—l did not think a copy of verses was in
the writing of Lord Ferrprs.—(This.'wete read, and
turned out to be, " jou love me, say not a word,
dearest.")
Timothy Coleburn—l was formerly footman to Lord
Ferrers. I have known him leave his home, go some
distance and then proceed to some place which I did not
know. It was on the road to Austrey (where the
plaintiff lived). I have seen Lord Ferrers'a wrting.
believe these letters to be in his writing. I have been
in the habit of seeing him write notes. He frequently
wrote on sciape of paper. I have seen him write
" Ferrers," and " Washington Ferrers."
Cross-examined—My observation of his Lordship's
writing has been confined to seeing him write when I
was standing bellied him, and I sometimes dried his
letters at the fire. I have seen his signature " Wash-
ington Ferrer?' at least fifty times. I was seven months
in the service. I hare seen him write " Ferrer?' about
one hundred times. Lord Ferrers was out a good deal
while I was in his service. When he went from home
he always had a servant or two with him. Some•
times seven of us went with him. I never knew
of his Lordship having any saddle horses at Staunton.
The writing in all the letters is strikingly like his Lord-
ship's writing. If there had been no signature I should
eave had no doubt about the writing. Forrester, the
officer, showed me the letters. I was shown some other
letters.
William Stanton—l believe I am a butcher at Ap-
pleby, which is two miles from Austrey. I was living
it Appleby in 1841 and 1842. I am not living there
'ow because I am here. I knew Lord Ferrers and Miss
Elizabeth Smith. I have seen them together between
Austrey and Appleby in 1843, in July, August, or Sep-
ember. I was coming from nowhere. They were
walking together about the middle of the day. I also
iaw them together in 1840 or 1841. It was very near
Austrey brick-yard. I only saw them together on those
two occasions. lam certain of their persons.
Cross-examined—lt was between eleven and two
;clock in the day. On the first occasion I can't say
hey were walking all the time. It was in the summer
time. They were walking along the road. I was dig
ring at the time. I kept working like a rum one. I
lid not cease from my work. On the second occa-
sion I was wheeling my barrow for some potatoes. I
um a butcher now and then. I have a shop. I don't kill
regular.. I have killed nothing on my own account ex
o,ept cigs. I have been More than three years without
selling any meat. I have some gardens. I had four,
sut have now only one. I have come to London before
o give evidence in this cause. I was not sent back
wain because I had nothing to say that would be of any
Ise. I can't exactly say that. I can't tell what exact
words were said to me. I went back again, and re
mistake. I can't tell why I was sent back. I know
Cotton and Saddington. I don't recollect telling Sad-
lington that I did not believe he had ever seen Miss
-smith and Lord Ferrers together, heeling° I had a gar
len by the road, and I never saw them. I could not
conscientiously say so. I never told Cotton that I was
,ent back because I had nothing to sly. I can't tell
whether I said anything to that effect. Cotton sold
ne a calf some time ago. I have paid him for it.
Re-examined.--On the second occasion Miss Smith
vas leaning on Lord Ferrer's arm. This cause was to
have been tried in December, but did not come on.
Thos. Tunnadine—l am a enaltster at Appleby. I
knew Lord Ferrers, and also Miss Smith, the plaintiff.
never saw them together. In 1839 I saw Lord Fer-
rers come out of Mr. Smith's garden. I saw this more
than once or twice. I walked up the street with him.
Cross-examined—Miss Smith was a young lady then.
I did not know l'er age. I work for Mr. Leigh. I was
away from Appleby seven years ago for more than two
years. I was not out of the way to avoid a prosecution.
[ did not go away suddenly. There was no charge by
my master about some malt--it was 'against his son. I
have not worked much for Mr. Leigh since. I have se-
veral times seen Lord Ferrers come from Mr. Smith's
garden.
Wm. Taylor—l live at Austrey. I have passed Lord
Ferrars and Miss Smith in 1814. (This witness was so
intoxicated that he was ordered out of court.)
Wm. Till—l know Lord Ferrers and Miss Smith ; I
saw them together three years since in the road between
Austrey and Appleby. They were about three yards
apart. I heard Lord Ferrers speak , he was not speak-
ing to me, and there was no one but Miss Smith for
him to speak to.
Cross-examined—l am a labourer. It was in the
month of November when I saw them. It was in a
public road about four o'clock in the afternoon. I was
alone. I was not here last December. I don't know
when I was first appliied to as a witness. I can't recol-
lect that, but I recollect seeing Lord Ferrers and Miss
Smith three years ago, in November.
Emma Base—l wag servant to Mr. Smith. I went
into his service about five years ago. I used to walk oat
with Miss Smith and the children. I know Lord Ferrers.
We have met him in the road when we were walking
many times. Lord Ferrers did not speak to her, but I
used to walk on, and Miss Smith remained behind. Miss
Smith told me to walk on. I have looked back, and saw
Lord Ferrers going one way and Miss Smith the other.
Lord Ferrers was riding when we met him. Miss Smith
stopped, and I walked on. This happened a great many
times. I never observed them take any notice of each
other. I never noticed them speak together.
Cross-examined--I never saw any familiarity between
them. Miss Smith was at school during the time I was
in the service. She was about 16 when we used to meet
Lord Ferrers.
Re-examined—Lord Ferrers several times got off his
horse before he met us, as soon as ho saw us coming.
Elizabeth Burcher—l was living at Austrey at the