The Sun.
London, England, 1834-09-09 00:00:00

UNION-HALL.

71(e.

Yesterday Mary Maloney, a tall, hard-featured, middle-
aged woman, was charged with committing an unprovoked
assault on Emily Henderson, the daughter of a retired
tradesman at Rotherhithe. The circumstances which led
to the assault arose out of jealousy on the part of the de-
fendant, who, even in the office, could not restrain the feel-
ing, which seemed to have taken complete possession of her
mind.
The complainant, a pretty dark-eyed girl of sixteen years
of age, stated that on the preceding afternoon, as she was
walking along Rotherhithe-wall, accompanied by a young
female friend, the defendant came up behind and struck
her a violent blow under the ear, exclaiming at the same
time, " There, take that, you hussey : what business have
you got going about gallivanting with my husband ?" She
was about to repeat the assault on the complainant, who
ran into a shop for protection from the violence of Mrs.
Maloney, whose countenance exhibited the rage which was
working within. The complainant had never given the de-
fendant the least cause for attacking her, and never to her
recollection did she ever behold that person's husband.
Mr. TRAILL asked the defendant the reason she attacked
the complainant, and whether she had ever seen her in the
company of her husband ?
The defendant had not actually seen the young lady
with her husband, but some of her neighbours had told her
that they had. They described the female in whose society
my husband spends more of his time than in mine, and it
corresponds with the complainant. " Besides," added she,
I observed her lurking for some evenings past on Rother-
hithe-wall, and was confident that she was waiting for my
husband." _ . _

The complainant, whose father was in attendance, said
that her only motive for walking on Rotherhithe was to get
a breath of fresh air after being confined at home all day,
and not, as was falsely insinuated, to meet other women's
husbands.
Mr. TRAILL said that it was quite evident the defendant
was labouring under a wrong impression with regard to
Miss Henderson, who, it did not seem probable, from her
station in life and her youth, would have stolen interviews
with a journeyman ships' caulker, who was old enough al-
most to 1),1 her grandfathc;r ; the idea was ridiculous.
Deiendant.—My husband is a gay man ; I know it to
my sorrow, and the older he gets the fonder he is becoming
of young women. He doesn't case how young they are ;
but as for me, he treats me with disdain. I might as well
have no husband at all as such a husband as him, for he's

of no use excepting to give me the bit of victuals and clothes
that I wear. . _

Mr. Henderson said that his daughter had received a
liberal education, and always associated with none but those
who were highly respectable. He was astounded on being
informed that his daughter had excited the jealous feelings
of a caulker's wife, and more so when the latter spread a
rumour about that his daughter was in the habit of meet-
ing her husband with his tarry jacket on of an evening
when he was done his day's work. It was ridiculous in the
extreme to believe such a report ; but then ho trusted that
his daughter might be protected from the jealous feelings
of the wife.

The Defendant, who still manifested the " green-eyed
monster," was held to bail.

FUNERAL AT SEA.

( From the United Service Journal.)
The slaughter on board the frigates and the India-
[nen had been very great ; and such was their damaged

condition, that had the seventy-four been away, no-
thing could have saved them from being captured : as
it was, they were many leagues from home, and Bri-
tish cruisers were flying about in all directions.
In the forenoon watch on the following morning,
the French ships hoisted their ensigns half-peak up,
and their pennants half-mast high, whilst the seventy-
four, hauling to the wind, displayed an enormous
‘Yhite flag at the main, which was quickly answered
by a corresponding flag on board the Fortunte, and
the green barge that had chased us when making our
escape, was sent on board the Indianian for the re-
mains of the gallant Dashall. On her return along-
_ _

side, the body was extended on flags in a midship on
the thwarts—the Union Jack of England was spread
over it—the French captains took their stations abaft,
with their heads uncovered—a white flag was hoisted
on a staff in the bows—several boats took the barge
in tow, whilst others formed a guard of honour, every

one bearing a white flag ; and at the firing of a guii,
which was answered by the men-of-war, a small band
of music played the Dead March, and the proces-
sion moved off from the seventy-four towards the For-

The spectacle was grand, but melancholy ; the
measured sweep of the oars kept time to the slow and
solemn strains of the musie—every head was uncovered,

and the reports of the minute guns sounded heavily
on the waters—it was a tribute of the brave to the

memory of the brave.
At first the Fortuni:e seemed suspicious of the pro-
ceedings, and very naturally showed but little disposi•
tion to trust to men who had so recently violated the
sanctuary of a neutral port. But the facts of the case
were soon made evident, and the British ships pre-
pared to meet the confidence and generous conduct of
the enemy. The boats of the frigates were instantly
manned, and carrying the white flag in the bows, the
two captains and other officers advanced to meet the
French flotilla. The frigates responded to the minute
guns, the ensigns and pennants hung drooping from
their unwonted places, whilst on both sides the sea-
men, bareheaded, crowded in the rigging of every
vessel, to watch'the issue of the meeting.
At length the boats were near enough to communi-
cate, and Lord Amelius was promptly informed of the
loss his country had sustained by the untimely decease
of the gallant Dashall, whose mutilated body lay
stretched beneath the proud flag of England. Lord
Amelius ran alongside the barge, and the officers ex-
changed salutes, as the two British captains entered
the boat in which were the three French captains. It
was a curious and remarkable sight—hostility had
ceased, nay, even animosity had fled—a friendly feel-
ing of mutual regard prevailed, and the temporary
bond of union bore the impress of the hand of death.

The corpse was uncovered, and all gazed on•it in
profound silence, which was suddenly broken by the
appearance of a wounded seaman, who crept from be-
neath the thwarts, and folding his arms across his
breast, took his seat near the dead man's head. His
dress was saturated with blood, which rendered the livid
hue of his face more unnaturally pale ; the fire of his
eye was quenched, the strength of his stout frame was
changed to childish weakness,—but he shed no tear,—
he breathed no sigh of regret, and the only words he
uttered expressed a fervent wish that his spirit might
follow that of his beloved master,—it was Spindle, the
coxswain. How he had contrived to get,into the
barge and secrete himself was unknown; but it was
conjectured that it had been connived at by the prize-
master on board the Indiaman, who had witnessed
the transaction, and respected the motive too much to
prevent it.
But the closing scene arrived, and Lord Amelius,with
that promptitude of feeling which generally marked his ,
character, decided that the interment should take plau
where they then were. The proposition was made to
the French officers, who felt the delicacy of the com-
pliment, and gave their ready acquiescence. 'Wrapped
in the ensigns of both countries, the body was securely
enclosed in a boat's sail, to which several ballast-bags
were attached ; and whilst this was in progress, a fast-
pulling boat hastened to the Fortunee for the frigate's
chaplain.
Poor Spindle watched the proceedings with agonized
attention, and though the soothing voice of kindness
endeavoured to assuage his anguish, yet every effort
was unavailing. At last a faint smile played upon his
features, and a slight tinge of colour passed over the
ashy paleness of his countenance. "My lord," said
he, " I feel my anchor is coming home, and I—l wish
the worthy clargyman was here. I'm saying I should
like to hear him overhaul me a bit, and mayhap he
might cast my head the right way, for it is but a sort
of blind navigation for a man as knows but little of
the marks and beacons. Howsomever, 'tis only carry-
ing on, and mayhap I may get close in the Captain's
wake and then The cable is parting, my lord,—
bury me—bury me with—with the Captain ; do, God
for ever bless your lordship,—don't—pray, don't part
us. I've neither chart nor compass, for Cother world,
—none, my lord, none ; and my only chance—don't
part us—my only chance—is to keep in his honour's
wake.

" You shall not be parted, my brave fellow," said
Lord Armelius, emphatically, " and if you have any
other request to make, rely upon it, as far as it is
within my power, it shall be most ,religiously at-
tended to."
" God bless your lordship," faintly uttered the dying
seaman, as his decaying strength compelled him to rest
his head upon the body of his late commander. " God
bless you ; I've known him from a boy, and lamed
him to,—but no matter. There's only one as 'll
grieve for me,—only one. I'm casting, my lord,—but
which way my head 'll go ;—well, well ;-I'll not slip
my manhood afore the French, howsomever ; but I
loved him, my lord,—loved him,—and pleased I am
that he has not left me far astarn."
The circumstances connected with the situation of
the coxswain, and the attachment he bore to his late
captain, were explained to the French officers, and
every one who witnessed the fading of existence could
not avoid shedding those rich drops of tender sympathy
which are doubly precious when flowing from bold and
daring hearts.
" Have you any friend or relative in England to
whom you wish to send a communication ?" inquired
his lordship.
" It is too late, my lord," replied the seaman, " to
say much. I have a sister's son,—a good youth, too ;
his father was killed in the year of, our Lord,—but I
forget the year ; it was in Duncan s action with the
Dutch ; he died like a brave man, and Jack Spindle
will not disgrace him in his last moments. If your
lordship would look upon the boy a bit, it would take
a taut strain from my heart."
" Where is he to be found ?" inquired Lord Ame-
lius ; " if he is worthy care, I pledge my word he shall
not want."
Godbless your lordship, again," saidthe tar, feebly,
" I knew you would befriend him ; his name is
Thos. Mullion, and--my head is paying off. I'm
saying, he's on board the Magnamee. Now, then, I
—die content."
" Thomas Mullion, on board the Magnanime," re-
iterated his Lordship, as he wrote the name with a
pencil in a small pocket-book ; " and now, my good
fellow, is there any thing else ?" No answer was re-
turned ;-...p00r Spindle lay motionless ; and silence
reigned for several minutes, whilst his spirit passed away.
" He is gone, my lord," said the surgeon of the
Fontunee, who had remained by him from his first ap-
pearance, and was now employed in closing the poor
fellow's eyes ; " there is nothing to prevent his earnest

request being complied with, for no power on earth can
re-animate his frame."
Thus assured, directions were given to prepare the
remains of poor Spindle for burial, which was soon
accomplished, and the body of the humble coxswain
was extended by the side of his late superior : it gale
the moral—" Death levels all distinctions."
By the time all was in readiness, the chaplain, ar-
rayed in his canonicals, had reached the barge, and
shortly afterwards commenced reading the service for
the dead. It was a strange, but solemn scene ; even
the foppery of Captain Itosewater was laid aside, as
the voice of the reverend minister was heard repeating
those beautiful and consolatory passages which direct
the mind to an hereafter, under the sure and certain
hope of a blessed immortality of light and life oat
peace. After the words, " Forasmuch as it hatn
pleased Almighty God to take unto himself the souls
of our dear broth:en here departed, we therefore commit
their bodies to the deep," &c.—the clergyman ceased,
and the band played a funeral dirge, as the Captsins
of the two hostile nations raised the dead from the
thwarts, and gently consigned them to their ocean
grave ; the waters closed over their heads, and then
rolled on as smooth as ever : the music stopped, the
chaplain continued the service to the end, and for seve-
ral, minutes afterwards the audience remained unmoved'
whilst the quivering lips and the fixed eye afforded cer-
tain indications of secret prayer amongst the English_i
the French, more openly, crossed ,themselves, ann
offered up their petitions aloud.