The Sun.
London, England, 1860-10-27 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, SATURDAY EVENING, OCTOBER 27, 18 O.

wild, bizarre street, a pattern book of shops and
palaces such as one sees no where else in the world,
such as could only arise in a fast-growing young
empire like America. From the City Park, however,
none of the inequalities were seen. It only seemed
one long vista of lofty palaces, thronged from base
to summit with thousands of people. Both sides of
the way for miles were lined with a dense mass,
which seemed to vibrate slowly in its massive un-
dulations backwards and forwards in constant heavy
waves. Balconies, windows, roofs, storey over storey
to the lofty house tops, were white with eager faces.
Every tree along the road clustered with people—
every railing, every post, even the distant chimney
stacks were occupied. It was one vast concourse
of citizens such as few people have ever seen
assembled together, such as is not likely to be
seen again in our time. When the Prince entered
this great avenue of human beings a long deep
cheer went up, such as could only be given by hun-
dreds of thousands of enthusiastic people. It
seemed less a cheer than a prolonged outbreak of
welcome—the welcome and greeting of an empire.
It is impossible to describe the route from this
point. The impression left was grand, but vague
and undefinable, as that of the ocean in a storm.
Flags and banners were across the road, but they
seemed as solid as masonry compared with the
endless flutter of hankerchiefs—a flutter that
seemed to make the whole avenue glimmer and
flicker —that rippled out over the fronts of massive
distant buildings like flakes of snow that formed a
perfect fringe above the huge black crowd of heads.
Hats went into the air, and handkerchiefs too, at
last, and there were cries of " God save the Queen !"
with " You're welcome to New York !" and cheers
and shoutings, even gestures of kindly feeling and
delight, such as carried even the coldest away with
the headlong torrent of enthusiasm. In vain you
sought to catch a glimpse of anything definite—the
vague immensity of the whole impressed you too
mach. There seemed to be no details, such as
usually belong to a vast assemblage of people of all
ranks—no quiet here, and outbursts of vociferation
at another spot. It was one continued unanimous
welcome that can neither be told nor forgotten.
At one church—the mother church, as it is called
—the chimes were ringing prettily, " God save
the Queen." Yet from that edifice some 80 years
ago Dr. Irving (in later times Bishop of Nova
Scotia) was expelled for reading prayers for
George 111. after the Declaration of Independence.
Here it was now chiming the national anthem,
and all New York mad with exultation and
delight, welcoming the great grandson of that
same George's descendant who had only a few
days before been to the tomb of Washington bare-
headed and planted a tree to shade the place of
sepulchre of that great man. Who can ever believe
in the permanence of hereditary antipathies after
this ? What antipathy, rather, can be hereditary
between such empires as England and America ?
If the West is ever so bad it owes 'its faults to Eng-
land ; if Americans ever think lightly of England,
let them remember they are the inheritors of our
every vice and virtue. Our kith and kin meet us
in every city, town, and village out here—exag-
gerating our national character—both good and ill,
but with the grand type of the Anglo-Saxon pre-
dominating over all.
At the City Park his Royal Highness and suite
left their carriages, and stood in the middle of the
inclosure to see the regiments from the Battery
march past. This was rather a hitch in the day's
programme, for it took a long, long time to accom-
plish, and the day waned and dusk came, and nine-
tenths of the people were still waiting for the Royal
visitor. Apparently enough, however, saw this
meagre ceremonial of marching past to have satis-
fied all America. Even the houses round the square
seemed to have turned into component parts of the
crowd, so dense were the clustering masses that
thronged at every window, over the copings, filling
the balconies, and huddling together on roofs a
hundred feet from the ground. And the enthusiasm
seemed boundless, inexhaustible. If the Prince
only turned his head they cheered ; if he didn't
they cheered louder still. In fact, the Prince had
come, the people were glad to see him, and testi-
fied it by never stepping cheering while he re-
mained in view, no matter what he did. It was past
dusk and getting very dark as his Royal High-
ness again entered his carriage and resumed his
triumphant progress down the Broadway. Up to
this time there had been round the carriage an es-
cort of light cavalry, including in their ranks some
of the fattest men in, Ne w York. But at the re-
quest of the Prince they fill back so as to let him
see and himself be seen by the cordial people who
had waited for his coming so long and quietly. At
every point from this time it was one ring, cor-
dial greeting. It was such a mixture of enthusi-
asm and good manners, of the most vociferous wel-
come yet the most profound respect, as no other
visitor that ever entered this city has been wel-
comed with. No matter what the excitement, it
never tempted the people to break their self-
formed and self-kept line. They seemed to feel
that it might be indecorous and misconstrued to
press upon the Royal cortege, and the route was
rigorously maintained open till the Prince had
passed at least a mile. In this manner his Royal
Highness journeyed up the Broadway of New York,
and at last, at nearly 7 o'clock, arrived at that
palace of all American hotels—the Hotel of the
Fifth Avenue,
Amid such a scene of enthusiasm it seems almost
wrong to stop to analyse its sources; but in this
case I may venture to do so briefly. His Royal
Highness owe; his grand reception by the people
here to three causes. The first is the admiration
in which the Queen's name is held throughout
America. Loyalty does not of course enter into
this feeling—it is a pure love of her character as a
great Sovereign and a good mother. It is a feeling
which has been growing up for years in America; no
matter where you may be in the Union—North or
South, East, or 'West—there is one great topic on
which all men agree, one subject on which they
seem never tired of expatiating, and that is Queen
Victoria. The simple fact of being her subject and
her admirer is a passport to the friendship of all men
here, and an Englishman feels a double pride in
going among Republicans with such a lady at the
head of his country. The second cause was the
Prince's own kind and general behaviour through-
out the tour. sln spite of the careful misrepresen-
tation of some of the papers facts have spoken for
themselves, and the Prince of Wales has gained a
reputation for courtesy and kindly feeling which
will not be lightly lost in America. The last,
though not, perhaps, the least cause of all is the
feeling of hospitality which pervades New York,
and which, as an almost invariable rule, makes its
nothing can be done too much in
tYheorksuins.toForeigners
inhabitants thing
Englishmenar
e the
always mo t
the way of cordiality and Welcome for the visitor.
pa
tcai tbyl
eof
lAioss under New
welcomed there ; but for the traveller from
the
mother country there is. a kindness and
courtesy
shown, such as he can meet with in no other part
of the world, save, perhaps, Australia. 'When
these three causes were united—respect for the
Queen, admiration for the Prince of Wales, and
welcome to a great visitor, all commingled in one
grand reception, your readers can imagine its fer-
vency and warmth. It is really not otherwise to
be described. After his arrival at the hotel the r--
gimental bands assembled under the windows of
the splendid building and serenaded him, the selec-
tion of pieces concluding with " God save the
Queen," which the crowd, still waiting as dense as

ever, applauded tremendously. During all this day
his Royal Highness has been driving round the

environs of the city, stopping at 2 o'clock to lunch

with Mayor Wood. To-night he goes to the grand
ball given in his honour at the Opera-house.

OCT. 12, 3 A.M.
I have just returned from a glance at the ball,
and must content myself with a most meagre outline
of its general character. Even the faculty of being
in two places at once fails here, when one has to
fellow the Prince and at the same time endeavour
to record his doings. This fete has been looked for-
ward to by all New York for weeks. At its first
conception, when the committee was formed, the
number of tickets to be issued was strictly limited
to 3,000. People lived on in the earnest hope and
firm belief that this select number would eventually

swell into 6,000. They were disappointed, how-
ever, as the total of admissions granted up to the
commencement of the ball last night only amounted
to 3,021. The result of this Rhadamanthian stern-
ness on the part of the committee was, of course, to
create a perfect furore on the part of everybody to
get the tickets. Their possession implied not only
being a unit in the " Upper Ten Thousand," but
one of the three thousand above the ten. Then, as
the day drew near, and as the reception of the
Prince added to his fame and eclat, and the com-
mittee continued inexorable, those who ware fortu-
nate enough to have tickets awarded them became
positive monuments of recognised fashion in the
eyes of their less fortunate acquaintances. No
admissions were sold at all—at least, not publicly.
The expense of the entertainment was defrayed by
the committee of 100 of the foremost citizens of this
city, and to each of these were awarded 10 tickets
for distribution among friends whose names were
submitted. Some tickets, I am told, were, never-
theless, parted with by these secondhand recipients
for a heavy "consideration ;" but there were only
one or two such instances, though the prices
realised by them must have offered a great induce-
ment to others to forego the ball. To-night as
much as £l.solhas been offered for an admission,
bat all in vain.

The ball was given in the Academy of Music. It
is a large and handsome theatre, though not quite
what New Yorkers imagine it to be—the finest
building of its kind in the universe. It is some-
thing like the Lyceum on a large scale, but much
over-done wlith heavy ornaments and massive pro •
scenium architecture, for all the world like the
facades of the grand hotels in Broadway. The
parterre of this was boarded over into a level and
spacious floor. The back of the lower tier of seats
was closed in with flowers; the stage was draped to
resemble a pavilion, with a handsome and effective
drop scene in rear of all. Over the orchestra was a
handsome painting, typical of the friendship be-
tween England and America. The supper was laid
in the side wings, formed into a long, narrow, but
tastefully decorated saloon. With this outline I
think I have mentioned the chief features of the
great New York ball. The American ladies are
justly celebrated for toilets. At the ball they shone
with real splendour, and before the Prince's arrival
the scene was as brilliant and varied as can be
imagined. His Royal Highness, with the Duke of
Newcastle and suite, came at ten o'clock. All were
in plain evening dress. On their arrival the fete
at once commenced, and still continues in full
vigour while I write.

THE TRIAL OF MULLINS.

THE SUMMING UP.
The Lord Chief Baron proceeded to charge
the jury. They had heard the evidence on the
part of the prosecution, and also on the part of the
prisioner, and it remained for them to come to a
decision in accordance with that evidence. His
lordship then proceeded to give a narrative of the
circumstances, so far as known, connected with the
murder and the habits of the deceased. There could
be no doubt, he observed, that a murder had been
committed, and that it was prompted by the desire
of gain, and the deceased probably met her fate
either before going to bed on the evening of Mon-
day the 12th of August, or next morning after get-
ting up. The probability also was that the mur-
derer was a person known to her, as a total stranger
would have robbed the house, taking care to tie her
up in some way or other, and then left her; while
a person who was known to her would for his own
personal safety be led to commit the murder. The
case for the prosecution had been conducted-as all
such prosecutions ought to be—by laying before the
jury the whole case. He disapproved of the counsel
for the Crown selecting evidence and making, as it
were, a nisi pries case of a trial in a criminal court.
Formerly prosecutions of this kind were conducted
in a way disgraceful to the country; but now it was
different, and it was understood to be the duty of
the prosecution for the Crown to lay before the jury
all the case, whether for or against the prisoner.
In they evidence they had heard there were several
matters which be wished to say did not with him
weigh much against the prisoner; but he hoped he
would not be misunderstood as saying that because
they were not against the prisoner, therefore they
were in his favour. For example, a great deal had
been said about the pieces of tape produced; but it
was nothinglto say that there were 33 strands in
it, as there were probably thousands of yards of
tape with 33 strands ; and he was able of himself
to point out that one of these pieces of tape was
thicker than the other. He was not disposed to at-
taeh undue consideration to the fact that Mullins
had been seen near the house in Grove-road, though
some importance had been attached to it from the
contradiction given by the prisoner's sons. Then as
to the hammer produced, it was a common plas-
terer's hammer, and he thought the production of
that hammer was not in any degree calculated to
increase the weight of the evidence. He thought it
would have been fairer to the prisoner not to bring
that hammer and to exhibit it in court in the way
that had been done. The learned judge then pro-
ceeded to read the evidence of the witnesses and to
make occasional comments as he went along. With
reference to the finding of the parcel in the brick
field, it was for the jury to consider whether the
expressions used by the prisoner respecting the
bricks and slab in the outhouse imported that he
knew better where the parcel was to be found
than he would have known if he had simply seen
Emm go in there and come away again. It was
true that the places of concealment in the shed
were scanty, and there might have been no other
place in which it could have been hid. The jury
would consider this, and would bear in mind, too,
that from the plan in court it seemed that anybody
might put his arm into the shed and throw the par-
cel behind the bricks. As to the waxed string and
the tape, he did not attach much importance to
them. If, indeed, by a microscopic" examination,
or in some way or other, it could have been shown
that one end of the tape on the parcel fitted exactly
to the tape found in Mullins's house, that would
have been most important; but bits of tape were so
common that no connecting link was supplied in
the present case by this portion of the evidence.
At the same time, though he himself attached little
or no importance to it, the jury should remember
that it was not one of those pieces of evidence
which, if it did not point one way, pointed the
other. The facts to which he was alluding seemed
to point neither way. Of far more importance was
the statement made by the prisoner, that Mrs.
Emsley would not have admitted him if he had
called at the house. If the jury believed that the
prisoner was upon such terms with 'Mrs. Emsley
that he would at once have been admitted by her,
then he had stated that which was untrue, and the
jury had reasonable ground for suspecting that he
had some motive for doing so. With regard to the
hammerbelonging to the prisoner, much import-
ance was not to be attached to that, for, of course,
Mullins must have the tools which belonged to his
business. With regard to the parcel, there could
be no doubt that whoever placed it in the shed was
connected with the murder. The prisoner said he
saw Emm go to the ruin, and bring from it a large
bundle. Why did Emm put the bundle there ? It
could hardly be to conceal it from his family, be-
cause, according to the prisoner, he afterwards took
the parcel into his house, and there made a selec-
tion from the property it contained. What could
bo the object of concealing such comparatively
worthless articles as two lenses and some metal
spoons? As to the cheque,one would have thought the
murderer would have been only too anxious to get rid
of it the moment he came near a candle or a fire

It was valueless, and would furnish damning evi-
dence against any one in whose possession it was
found. Did this look like the concealment by a
thief and a murderer of property which might so
easily have been destroyed, or did it look like a
plant—something put there to create a suspicion
that Emm was in some way connected with the
robbery? It was clear that besides Emm no other

persedsave the prisoner could have put the parcel
in the shed, and under the circumstances it was
not to be wondered at that the police suspected the
' prisoner. If the jury believed the evidence of the
witnesses who spoke to Emm's journey to Bromley
and Stratford on Monday night, this person was
exculpated. tie could not have committed the
murder, and from the evidence of his own family
he could not have put the parcel into the shed at
the time spoken of by Mullins, for he was unwell
and was not out at the hour mentioned by the pri-
soner. Against the prisoner it was alleged that on
the evening of the murder he was seen going to
and early next morning was seen going from the
neighbourhood. But the history of the legal pro-
fession abounded with instances of mistaken iden-
tity. lie had heard Lord Cranworth, who had been
an eminent member of the common law bar, say
more than once that evidence of identity, when
given by those who were not familiar with the
person of a prisoner, was always liable to error.
He would not trust his own evidence on such an
occasion. If indeed the prisoner were known to
the witness before, then of course the identity
would be better established. But even if it were
established, the fact would not go very far, because
it would only show that at the time of the murder
the prisoner was in the neighbourhood of Mrs.

Emslev's house. The alleged recognitionof Mullins
by the witnesses Mitchell and Raymond was worth
nothing whatever in comparison with the more
weighty matters which had been brought before the
jury. Some stress had been laid upon the
boot which was said to correspond with
the bloody print, but before this evidence was
made available it ought to be pretty clear to
every observer that such a similarity existed
between the footprint and the boot that the one
must necessarily be a copy of the other. There was
said to be blood on the pencil-case, but Dr. Gill
could not tell whether it was human blood, and so
with the hair on the boot, this w itness did not take
upon himself to say that it corresponded in appear-
ance with the hair of the deceased. The case against
the prisoner appeared to him to rest chiefly on the
conclusion to which the jury would come respecting
the parcel. Who made up that parcel ? The counsel
for the defence said that the cheque might have
passed out of Mrs. Emsley's hands and have come
into the prisoner's possession. But the prisoner had
not told them how he got it, and, if he had got it
the jury had a right to call upon him for an ex-,
planation. The identity of the spoons and the lenses
was made much more complete by their being found
along with the cheque; as to which there could be no
doubt at all that it was paid to the deceased on the
day of the murder. In the prisoner's house a spoon
was found corresponding in every respect with the
spoons in the parcel, and it would be for the jury
to consider how far this fact again connected the
prisoner with the parcel and showed that he made
it up. They should remember that the prisoner was
not to be convicted on suspicion only, nor could any
number of circumstances of mere suspicion suffice
to sustain the case against him. And here he might
for their information define what was circumstan-
tial evidence. If a man were seen coming out of a
room, that was circumstantial evidence to prove
that he had been in the room. Such evidence sup-
ported a sort of proof by giving rise to an inference
which was irresistible. It would be a great mistake
to confound under the term " circumstantial evi-
dence" the idle dreaming of the men who alleged that
they met Mullins on the evening of the murder and
on the morning afterwards with the far more reliable
evidence furnished by the cheque and the other con-
tents of the parcel. Circumstantial evidence meant a
number of facts which, if believed, left in the mind of
a rational man no r?asonable doubt as to a particular
conclusion. But the jury must allow themselves to
be influenced only by circumstances which pressed
directly against the prisoner, not by the surmises of
persons meeting somebody whom they thought was
the prisoner, or by the testimony of somebody else,
who said the prisoner did his work after the murder
so badly that it had to be done over again. Upon
the whole case did the evidence lead irresistibly to
the conclusion that the prisoner was guilty? In the
words of Lerd Tenterden, did it bring to their minds
that firm persuasion, that degree of conviction, upon
which people would act in their own important con-
cerns ? If so, it was their duty to act upon this
persuasion. It was to the interest of the public that
no innocent man should suffer, and it was also to
their interest that the guilty should not escape. In
forming a judgment upon such a case it would be
idle to estimate the chances of acquitting the guilty
or of convicting the innocent. No such calculation
could be attempted. Were the jury of opinion, upon
the whole evidence, that the prisoner was guilty ?
If so, the duty of returning that verdict must, how-
ever painful, be discharged. If not, the prisoner
was entitled to be set free. But the doubt of which
the prisoner was to have the benefit must not be a
mere surmise that the case might have been other-
wise—that the cheque might have come properly
into his possession ; and so forth. The question was
what, in their opinion, really did happen, and did
they believe it with that degree of certainty upon
which they acted in their own important affairs ?
This question they must now prepare to answer, and
they would answer it in such a way as would do
justice to the prisoner and satisfy their own con-
sciences.
At the conclusion of his lordship's charge, which
occupisd three hours and a quarter, the jury retired
to consider their verdict, and returned into court at
a qaarter past 6 o'clock, having been absent about
an hold..
The usual question was put by the Clerk of Ar-
raigns, and the foreman, amid breathless silence,
returned a verdict of Guilty.
Being then asked in the usual form what he had
to say why sentence should not be passed upon him,
The Prisoner (who spoke with much energy and
firmness, and with a slight Irish accent) said—My
Lord, will you allow me a few words ? I am not
guilty. I know that I have not many days to live,
and I am now speaking the truth. I am most happy
to have had such a trial—an attentive jury and
also such able counsel, who have done so cleverly
for me in my defence. On Monday, the 13th, I was
at work in Temple-place, repairing some houses. I
remained there till between 6 and 7 o'clock. After
then I returned home to my own place, and, as the
Lord is my judge, and I shall see him before long,
I remained in my own place until I had my supper.
After supper I went to bed, and remained there
until 8 o'clock or so the following morning. One
witness has told your lordship that he saw me in
the urinal at the corner of a publichouse, the name
of which I now forget. I solemnly declare before
my God that I am telling your lordship and the
Court at large the simple truth. I was at home at
the time, and I was in bed at the time when the
other witness said he saw me early next morning
at Stepney-green. I say he could not have seen me
there, for I was in my bed. Now, as for the boot
and my hammer. My hammer was not used by me
in any way to hurt any man, woman, or child ; and
as to the boot, I protest before my God I never saw
it till I saw it at the Thames police•court. Never
did I see it before; never did I wear it. I solemnly
declare that before all here present. What I have
stated now are the real facts as the Lord is my
judge, and He shall judge me before long. I was
in my own bed. Never did Igo out of my own
place from the time I left my work in Temple-
place until 8 o'clock the following morning. And
my heart (striking his bosom) is light at being able
to tell all my friends about me that what I say to
you now is the real truth. lam extremely obliged
to the jury, and I am happy to have had such a
patient jury. lam obliged to your lordship, also,
and to the gentlemen, both against me and for me
—Mr. Parry and my own able counsel. I am happy
to say that Mr. Best has done very well for me,
not forgetting my attorney, Mr. Wood, who has
taken more trouble than I would expect a gentle-
man in his class to take. He has done all he could
to find witnesses for me, and as yet I am sorry to
say that I have not paid him. What I have said
are the real facts.
The Lord Chief Baron, putting on the black cap,
then said :—James Mullins, you have been con-
victed of the crime of wilful murder upon the per•
son of Mary Emsley on the 13th of August last.
You have yourself, I think, very properly com-
mended the patience of the jury and the propriety
of conduct shown by the counsel concerned in the
case, even by those retained against you. The jury
after a trial of two days and after patient delibera-
tion have found you guilty. You have addressed
the Court upon the evidence against you. It would
have been more satisfactory to me if you ,had
addressed your observations to some part of the case
which was considered by me as really bearing
against you. Instead of that, you have confined
your remarks entirely to those parts of the case
which I pointedly in some measure warned the
jury to pay very little regard to. Not that these
matters so proved by some of the witnesses were
untrue, but because it appeared to me that they
were not of a nature justly to prove the crime con-
tained in the indictment. They might form
reasonable grounds of suspicion, but it appeared to
me that they did not furnish any pregnant proofs
against you. Had you been desirous, in your
address to the Court, to meet what I considered
to be the really grave part of the evidence against
you, you would have told us whether you were in
possession of the cheek, or not, and whether your
accusation against Emm was true or false. If you
were in possession of the check, you would have told
us how you came by it. I mention these points to show
that the remarks you have made appear to me
entirely beside the case which has been proved
against you. The jury have found you guilty, and
without some explanation of your conduct— an
explanation which you have not furnished—with-
out some evidence, of which there does not appear
to be any existence, I own that I do not see how
any reasonable person can come to any other con-
elusion than that your charge against Emm was
altogether false, and that you were responsible for
the possession of those marks of guilt contained in
the parcel. The murder of this helpless old
woman was a wicked, cruel, and aggravated
crime. The unhappy sufferer may have felt
little, as she was probably deprived of sensa-
tion by the first blow. But it is manifest that who-
ever commitisd the murder took good care that
there should be no possibility of recovery, and that
life should be utterly extinct. I endeavoured to
leave the case entirely for the consideration of the
jury. lam still of opiiiion that some of the cir-
cumstances urged against you, instead of increasing
the weight of evidence for the prosecution, only,
tended to embarrass the jury in coming to a conclu-
sion. But with that conclusion I am bound to state
I am perfectly satisfied, and with the evidence be-
fore them uncontradictegasit was and unexplained,
as part of it might have been, I do not see how they
could come to any other. It only remains forme
now to entreat you to make the best use of the
which may be spared to you before the execution
sh,
of the sentence. It is my duty to pass the
inudg-
te
meat which the law provides for the
of se awful a crime. I do not think thatTlLll either
culled upon or should be justified ii adding any-