The Sun.
London, England, 1856-02-07 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY EVEN I :1/4'.(1, FEBRUARY 7, 1856.

Le.
!lust/loss
this day.

LAW

(This Day.)

~p~

RAIL'MLY3.

L,as!A4
Companp

C mina rricset
yester ay.

EXCHEQUER COURT.

(Sittings at Nisi Prius, before Lord Chief Baron Pollock

and a Common Jury.)
GENESE V. CUEITT-EXTRAORDINAEX CASE.

Mr. James and Mr. Petersdorff appeared for the
plaintiff; Mr. 0 verend and Mr. Turner for the defendant.
This was an action brought by the plaintiff to re-
cover the value of some household furniture from
the defendant, an upholsterer carrying on business
in the neighbourhood of Soho-square. It appeared
from the plaintiff's evidence that Mrs. Rivers,
a lady formerly residing in Trevor-square„ Bromp-
ton, was indebted to the plaintiff in 20/. Sub-
sequently he advanced her GM, to be called 801., to in-
clude the interest on a bill of sale on her furniture, the
amount to be repaid by 21. weekly instalments. 471.
had been repaid. Several instalments being in arrears
in November last the plaintiff went to Brom pton and
found thehouse shut up. He traced the re:noval of the fur-
niture to a workshop of the defendant's in the Haymarket.
A conversation took place between the plaintiff and the
defendant, when the defendant said he held the goods
as a friend of Mrs. Rivers against her creditors, but that
he should be paid his debt. Plaintiff declined to accede
to the proposition, and served the defendant with a
notice. Mrs. Rivers afterwards took the benefit of the
Insolvent Court, and the goods had been sold for 105/.
ss. The defendant had also a hill on the furniture. In
the course of the plaintiff's cross-examination much
amusement was created by the learned counsel "reckon-
ing up" his antecedents. He said ho was now out of
business, but kept a short time since the Crown and
Cushion, Russell-street, Drury-lane ; before that he lived
at a private house at Kennington-cross, and discounted
bills and bought and sold jewellery ; before that he kept
a coffee and chop house in Jermyn-street, rented under
the Woods and Forests, but he was never charged with
making a gambling house of it ; he was once charged
with keeping a gambling-house in Ireland ; he had
to leave Jermyn-street in consequence of his
turning the house into a coffee and chop
house. Previous to that he was indicted for keeping a
brothel in George street, Adeiphi, but on the trial he
was acquitted. He lived about 20 years in Duke's-
court, Bow-street, but he was not indicted for keeping a
brothel there. In Dublin he kept a gambling-house,
which he gave up without having been indicted. On ono
occasion he travelled the country with two German
dwarfs, as rivals to Tom Thumb, and they were exhi-
bited at the Egyptian-ball, Piccadilly. He was not
aware that he enjoyed the sobriquet of " Guinea Pig"
in Rag-fair, where he sometimes visited. He had never
been engaged in a brothel in Coventry-court, as a sir-
vent, but he bed " wisited" there. He was now out of
business, and what little he earned was by bill dis-
count'ng.
A book was handed in by the defendant, which pur-
ported to contain a list of the payments, wherein it was
shown that 58/. had been repaid out of the 106/., and a
bill of exchange given for the balance, but the plaintiff
denied that the last page, containing entries over 47/.,
the amount he gave credit for, was in his band-writing.
Mrs. Rivers' schedule, containing an entry of the bill o
exchange was put in, but he said he had never seen it
before, and he denied that he said to her after she had
passed the Insolvent Court, " Lotty, I don't care about
the bill you owe me, or whether you ever pay me, but
I want to punish Cubit, and will do so if it costs me 1001.'
The defence was, that Mrs. Rivers, wbo had gone
also by the name of Mrs. Atkins, became embarrassed,
and obtained some assistance from the plaintiff ; she
owed him 9/., and, wanting more money, the 100/. was
made up in this way : 9/. owing, 31/. worth of goods,
pictures, jewellery, &c., 401. money advanced, and 201.
to be charged as interest. When Mrs. Rivers had to
petition the Court 42/. was clue, and it was arranged
between her and the plaintiff, that to hold him harm-
less she should give him a bill of exchange for that
amount, a collateral security in the event of her losing
her furniture. The defendant became mixed up in the
transaction in this way : in 1853 he had lent Mrs.
Rivers as Mrs. Atkins a sum of money on a bill of
sale which had been repaid. In September, 1855, she
at the same time owing hint 35/. for goods, and 50/. that
had been advanced to her, had a further advance of 50/.,
making altogether 1351. she was indebted to him, which
she agreed to repay by 25/. instalments. A bill of sale
was then given on the furniture for 150/., including 15!.
for interest.

The Lord Chief Baron said that the plaintiff's bill of
sale had a prior claim to that of the defendant's. The
question resolved itself into the truth of the payments
to the plaintiff, the giving the hill of exchange, and the
proceedings at the Insolvent Cenrt.
The case had not concluded when our report left.

CRIMINAL CURT,—(This Day.)

OLD COURT.

(Before Mr. Justice \Vightman and. Mr. Justice Wiles.)

THE MURDER OF MR. \VADGH, THE SOLICITOR.

Charles I roadfoot Westron, 25, clerk, was indicted for
the wilful murder of George Waugh.
Mr. Clarkson, Mr. Clark, and Mr. Gifford prosecuted,
and Mr. Ballantine and Mr. Lewis defended.

It not being very generally known that the trial would
come on this day, the court was not so crowded as might
have bee❑ expected.
The prisoner was somewhat fashionably attired is a
brown single-breasted outer coat, and evidently had
dressed himself with much care. He is not above 5 feet
high, and very humpbacked. His complexion is fair,
and of that pale sickly cast customary to persons so
deformed. His countenance is somewhat malignant;
his features pinched and projecting towards the mouth.
His eyes are small and sunken, with a very unpleasant
expression. His manner was quite possessed, and ap-
parently self-satisfied, but evidently that of a man whose
mind was affected.

Mr. Clarkson briefly stated the case to the jury, and
in so doing said the circumstances which caused the
death of the unfortunate gentleman were so abundantly
clear that no question could arise as to the facts,
or that the act was the wilful one of the prisoner,
and the only question for the jury would be the
state ef mind be was in when he committed it. The
deceased gentleman was a solicitor, and related by
marriage to the prisoner. He bad it appeared been
mainly instrumental in obtaining far the prisoner and
his brothers and sisters some property, which, without
the deceased gentleman's assistance, they would never
have recovered any portion of. The prisoner, without
any real foundation for such an opinion, became
possessed of an idea that Mr. Waugh had robbed
him of his portion of the, property, and in consequence
became so annoying in his conduct to Mr. Waugh that
he was compelled to have recourse to the protection of
the police magistrate at Clerkenwell, and prisoner was
brought up to that court. Prisoner then promised that
be would take his affairs out of the bands of deceased,
and not further annoy him. Prisoner then engaged a
aef Gr a y
' si nn- s q u w
a r e
athat
andt e
prisoner's
result
of
Sgaefiludtt hYleeln, s
arrangements
property was to be sold upon the 14th of
jtUaare.t share., o
upon that day the preliminaries settled, but upon
that day, in consequence of what Mr. Waugh communi-
cated to Mr. Sandy, the matter was put off. The pri-
soner was at Mr. Sandy's °flee upon that day, and
when he learned how matter, stood, became very abu-
sive, and finally left the office of Mr. Sandys, and
said that Mr. Waugh should not have anything more
to do in the matter.
The first witness called was Thomas Kent Whitfield,
examined by Mr. Clerk—l am a solicitor. About half-
past ten on the morning of the 16th of January I saw
the prisoner crossing over Bedford-street towards Bedford-
row. He suddenly turned round towards the end of
Bedford row, and appeared to be doing something with
his sleeve. t knew the deceased, and saw him coming
in an opposite direction. The prisoner then went up the
street in the direction of Mr. Waugh, and when within
a few yards of him drew something which looked like
brass, and said, " You villain, you have ruined me ;
why did you rob me of my property ?" and almost
directly I heard the report of a pistol, and saw Mr.
Waugh stagger. Mr. Waugh said, " Hold him; he has
shot me." I said, " How could you shoot the poor
man?" He said, "He has done for me." I said,
"And you have done for yourself." I then tried to
tsheiezephrisoner. Mr. Waugh fell to the ground almostim, when he drew another pistol. I then secured
directly.
Mr. Ballantine said be should not ask this gentleman
any question, neither could he deny the facts, and there-
fore would not trouble the prosecution to call any more
witnesses to these facts.
Mr. Justice Wightman said that he saw by the depo-
sitions there were a great many witnesses, all to the
same facts.
The street-keeper of Bedford-row was then called, and
stated that as he was conveying the prisoner to the s,a-
tion, prisoner drew a knife from his pocket, which he
out ohfa myg
took from him.
Sergeant Hayes said that he was on duty at the sta•
tion-house when the prisoner was brought ; and when
the charge was made against the prisoner of murdering
Mr. broughtestate,
somelt
all
upon
acres of land ; he is a relation of mine, be married into
our family ;" and added, "I am satisfied."
Waugh,hiteeel f ; the h e prisonerhas ehee
cheated
d me "He
Inspector Checkley proved that the prisoner said if it
had not been for deceased he should have had 8001. ;
now he should only have 4001., and God only knew
when he should get that, as Mr. Waugh had thrown it
into Chancery. He gave his address at Newland-street,
Kensington. lie went there and found bullets; a bul-
let mould, powder and caps.
By Mr. Ballantine—You found, I believe, that the
prisoner had bought the pistols eighteen months ago ?
Checkley—l did, sir.
Mr. Wren, the surgeon, proved that death was caused
by a bullet, which he found in the groin of the deceased
gentleman.
[We shall give the conclusion in our lad edition.]

fully ;" and his "evidently going blind on his
eye-glass side, but being ashamed to make any
further alteration in his painful arrangements ;"
and his " I say. Look here. You stick to us in a
devil of a manner ;" and his semi-paralytic "Upon
my soul you mustn't come into the place saying
you want to know, you know ;" and his staring at
the intruder " until his eye-glass fell out, and his
putting it in and staring at him until it fell out
again !" What shall we say of all tbi., but that as
we read it we lay the number down, every-now and
then, and fairly have our roar of laughter out, until
compelled at last, like Scrooge's nephew, to get up
and stamp ! The thing is altogether delicious.
Charles Dickens only could have written it—and
remembering that we accept it from his hand all
the more gratefully. As we do even that hobgoblin
of a last chapter in which Rigaud, the diabolical, is
"Let Loose" to the dismay of the good folk of
Chalons, and the particular horror of poor John
Baptist Cavaletto.

L IT ER A T UR E.

CHARLES MACKAY'S NEW POEMS.

The Lumppf Gold ; and other Poems. By Chas.

Mackay. Routledge and Co.

A cordial welcome is duo to any new volume of

poetry from the hand of Dr. Charles Mackay. Nut,
however, as he himself (judging from his title-page)
appears to imagine, by reason of his being the
author of "Egeria," or the celebrant of "The Le-
gends of the Isles," or the bard of " The Salaman-
drine." Rather than this, let us say at once,
almost iu a manner despite his authorship of those

longer poems, aud, be it added; because of such
minor effusions as "The Voices from the Crowd,"
and " The _ Voices from the Mountains" his

humble lyrics of the heart—laLOUid sdngs and
English melodies. For the sake of these, and
neither for his " Egeria," nor his "Salamandrine,"
do we accord an eager greeting—a greeting of
genuine and unaffected satisfaction at its appear-
ance—to a new book of verse from the pen of Dr.
Mackay. Because we recognise in him a song-
writer whose voice is always pitched in the most
natural key in the world, never quavering off into
an affected roulade or an incorrigible falsetto. A.
voice sweet and dulcet—with the tears in it some-
times—but ever genial, and manly,and out- breathed.
Dr. Mackay, moreover, be it confessed, frankly
and without further delay—we are grateful to, for
inasmuch as he allowi his meaning to be perfectly
comprehensible. He understands, as by a sort of
instinct of good taste, that politeness to a reader
which induces a writer, whether of verse or of phi•
losophy, to be lucid—according to the happy dic-
tum of Arago. A matter of some moment, it must
be admitted, in this age of mystical spasmodics,
When rhymed stanzas are twisted into all imagin-
able and unimaginable convolutions, until one is
fain to cry aloud in anguish with honest Hotspur—
I had rather be a kitten, and cry—mew,
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers.
I had rather hear a brazen candlestick tuned,
Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
And that would nothing set my teeth on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry.
Dr. Mackay, at least, in the midst of all the din of
the jarring mysticism in which our poets-of-the
day are so tumultuously involved, to the torment-
ing of our ears, and the bewilderment of our un-
derstandings, is always at once melodious and
comprehensible. Besides which he is never mawkish

--but, on the contrary, his tenderness is ever distin-
guished by the characteristics of a masculine sensi-
bility. As such—namely, as musical, as pathetic,
as comprehensible—his poetry is very welcome to
us : particularly when it comes to us in the simple
forms of the lyric and the ballad.' And of these
his now somewhat numerous volumes afford us
hardly less of a variety than the pack of the delec-
table knave Autolycus—" He bath songs fer man
and woman, of all sizes ; no milliner can so fit his
customers with gloves ; he has the prettiest love
songs for maids, with such delicate burdens of dil-
dos and fadings," et cetera ! Do we not all re-
member them, " thundered," if not " to the tune
of Green Sleeves," to some no less popular melody,
from the tuneful fancy of Henry Bishop or of
Henry Russell ? Many and many of them scattered
broadcast over the laud by this time, " familiar
in our mouths as Household Words," and dear to
our hearts as the tones of old friends vibrating
tenderly upon the inner chords of our remem-
brance. It were idle to particularise among fa-
vourites so freshly and immediately in the general
recollection. For the sake of those dearly-appre-
ciated favourites, for his own-sake as the author of
them, we greet Charles Mackay; on the instant of
his coming before us with his new volume in his
hand, right heartily as with a veritable benison.
As he himself has sung—
" Give me your hand—you shall, you must
1 love you as a brother."
A. brother to us all he has become, long since, with
that large heart, and that warm grasp, and those
kindly human eyes of his. Viewed dispassionately,
" The Lump of Gold," is little else than another
manifestat;eu of the genial nature for which Dr.
Mackay bau long been remarkable. It is a new
ebullition of almost all his nobler qualities as a lover
of his kind, as a poet-reformer, as a literary philan-
thropist. In its root idea, he has followed the
axiomatic advice of the sage—xatpov yvrool.—he has
seized his opportunity. That opportunity, a theme
of universal interest, the lust of gold at once in
the new world, and at our antipodes. The plot is
readily enough indicated—springing as it does from
Edward Aubrey's going in quest of wealth in Aus-
tralia. Having discovered a monstrous lump of
gold, somewhere in the neighbourhood of the fa-
mous diggings of Ballarat—

"A fiendish lump of gold"—

the hearing about the mere dimensions of which is
enough to make the mouth of a Crcesus water, to
warm into new life the ashes of an Elwes, and
to curdle with sympathy into a sort of auriferous
slag the glittering sands in the hollow of old Pao-
tolus !

" The gold was long, and broad, and thick,
As tlic statue of a man !"
A monstrosity of wealth—immovable ! Aubrey is
is despair lest any one else should discover it.
Listen to the sequel—the turning point of the
whole narrative—as it is described by the author
himself. Premising, before we give the quotation,
that Heseltine is the bosom-friend of Aubrey, the
gold-hunting hero of Ballarat. Aubrey is
hanging over his treasure one day, when he is thus
startled :

There burst on the air a scornful laugh,
And a hand was laid on mine;
I started back as from a snake,
And saw 'twos Heseßine.
"So greedy, Aubrey ! nay, be just,
The treasure's mine and thine ;
I've watched thee in thy moody walks,
And seen thy ramble ends :
Too much for one, enough for two,
We'll share it, and be friends."
" Friend of a robber who dogs my path !"
I answered him in scorn ;
I uttered words that stung his pride,
Too bitter to be borne.
Taunt followed taunt—he drove me mad—
He struck me on, the face ' •
And quick as thought—but thoughtless all,
Except of the disgrace—
I raised the mallet in my hand,
And fell'd him on the place.
Horror stricken at the imagined murder of his
companion, Aubrey flies from the accursed
land, and returns across the ocean home-
wards—remersefully, gloomily, despairingly. And
here follows what we conceive to be the finest of
all the imaginings nin the whole of this imaginative
poem of " The Lump of Gold." "The fiendish
lump of gold" takes life to itself, as it were, out of
the horror of the fancied murderer. Telling the
tale himself, he cries :
A sudden frenzy raised my hair—
I knew not what I did ;
But I thought the golden fiend arose
From the ground where it lay hid,
And chased me with convulsive steps
Over the land and sea,
Sitting beside me when I slept,
Eating its bread with me;
Mocking me with its yawning eyes,
Raising its yellow hand,
And driving, driving, driving me on,
Over the sea and land.
Adding, as by an awful illustration of the phan-
tom:—

A hideous likeness of myself,
A. torture to behold •
Part was senseless go'd.
Part was throbingflesl; and blood,
It stood between me and the sun—
It fouled the healthy air—
b
I looked t! othe Bend t
w a fls
o y
there. its face,
I looked to earth, and at its feet
I saw a yawning pit ;
And lo
It grinned and pointed with its hand,
And said " Thy bones will fit."
Pursued by this golden shadow of the monster
in cc Frankenstein," Aubrey returns to the little
Surrey village of Micklethorpe, to have the ghost
of his despair laid by the hand of Parson Vale,
whose daughter Lilian has been all the while Ed-
ward's wife, when Hesoltine, to the delight of the man
who imagines himself to have been his assassin,
returns in perfect health and frank forgiveness
from the mammon-growing tracks of Australia.
So all ends happily—lleseltine, bent at the close
of the poem upon returning to Australia, to seize,
on behalf of himself and his friend Aubrey, upon
the buried " Lump of Gold," the lump having
been literally buried by him, very ingeniously, prior
to his departure from Ballarat, under a grave- ike
hillock, surmounted with this epitaph :
" Here lies a sinner—trouble not his bones."
Such is Charles Mackay's new poem of "The
Lump of Gold"—a poem the principal charm of
which is discoverable in the gentle Lilian: thus