The Sun.
London, England, 1860-09-25 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON. TITESDAY EVOVING, SEPTIOIIIER 25, 1860.

MIDDLESEX SESSIONS.-(THIS DAY.)

- (Before Mr. Payne.)
John Carrel was indicted for pot stealing.
A witness named Webb said the prisoner told him he
had " bashed" the pot.
George Upton, 115 B, said on Saturday morning I went
to the pris3ner's house and fouald a frying pan, which I now
produce, with white metal in it. Prisoner came in,"tmd I
asked hint who used the pan last, and he said he did. I
asked what he used it for, and ho said to melt up old stuff.

The prisoner said Webb was a professional begging
letter writer.

The witness said it was a gross falsehood.
The jury found the prisoner guilty.
The Judge asked whether he was known.
Some of the constables said they knew him to be an as-
sociate of thieves.

The prisoner here made a desperate effort to jump over
the front of the dock to assault one of the constables, but
was prevented doing so.
He was sentenced to 12 months' imprisonment with hard
labour.

William Craine was found guilty of assaulting Police-
constable Wayman, in Golden-lane, on the 2d of Septem-
ber last.

A previous conviction having been proved he was sen-
tenced to two years' imprisonment.
John Johnstone was found guilty of stealing a quantity
of silver plate, the property of a gentleman residing at
Broaipton. The articles ware taken from the plate-basket
during the absence of the servants.
lie was sentenced to 18 months' imprisonment with hard
labour.

Thomas Welsh was convicted of three attempts to com-
mit felony.
A previous conviction was proved, and the learned judge
sentenced him to two years' imprisonment with hard
labour.

POLICE INTELLIGENCE-(171IS DAL)

BOW-STREET.

THE DRUNKEN CRIPPLE.—Ann Taylor, the cripple
who was discharged yesterday by Mr. Henry for being
fcund drunk and incapable of taking care of herself, was
again placed at the bar this mornin charged with creating
a disturbance at St. Giles's Workhouse. As she was
placed in the dock she artistically placed her crutch pro-
minently in view and made a curtsey to the magistrate.
The porter of the workhouse said—Last night the pri-
soner, in a state of intoxication, came to the house, and in
an authoritative manner demanded admission. I told her
she could not be admitted in the state she was then in,
upon which she commenced using very bad language. A
crowd very soon congregated, and then she began to get
very violent. She demanded to know why she was ex-
cluded the benefits of the workhouse, when she knew that
there were plenty of thieves, concubines, and such like,
taking it easy therein. After she had kept up the dis-
turbance for some time the police had to be sent for, and
with difficulty she was taken to the station-house.

The police-officer said—Last evening I found the prisoner
in a state of intoxication near St. Giles's Workhouse. She
was rolling about on the ground and exclaiming loudly
against being excluded from the workhouse. I asked her
to get up and go away or I should have to take her to the
station-house. She told me I could do that and be d—d.
I attempted to help her up, but she again commenced using
bad language, and became so outrageous that I was com-
pelled to send to the police-statioa for the stretcher, upon
which she was conveyed to the lock- up.
Magistrate—Well, prisoner, is this the way you keep
your promises ? I only discharged you yesterday, and here
you are again for the same misconduct.
Prisoner—Your gentlemanly treatment yesterday pro-
duced such an effect on me that I am afraid I allowed
my self to get a little excited.
Magistrate--You mean drunk.
Prisoner—l have an objection to that term, bat if your
worship thinks I was drunk' shall not deny it. (Laughter.)
Magistrate—Why you had to be conveyed to the station-
house on a stretcher.

Prisoner—lt does not follow, therefore, that I was
drunk. (Laughter.) I was very badly used at the work-
house, and I fell down through my lameness.
Magistrate—That was the excuse you gave yesterday,
and I discharged you because you promised for the future
to take nothing stronger than water.

Prisoner—Did I. (Laughter.) Well, if you say so, I
suppose I did. My brain must have wandered a little yes-
terday. However, this I will say, it shan't occur again.
Magistrate—Oh, I cannot allow you to go away this
time.

Prisoner—Can't you? Well, I'm very sorry for that.
I think you can if you like. Think of my affliction. Don't
send me to prison. What's the good of doing so. I will
keep my promise faithfully for the future.
Magistrate—Oh no, I cannot listen to your promises.
Drunken people cannot be allowed to create disturbances
and use bad language with impunity.
Prisoner (with a look of astonishment)—Bad language I
I use bad language I I would very much sooner it be said
I picked a pocket than that I used bad language. Oh,
there must be some mistake about that. (Laughter.)
Magistrate—There is no mistake ; two of the witnesses
heard you. I shall send you to prison this time.
Prisoner—That will be very wrong—very wrong, indeed.
(Laughter.) Of course you can do as you like, but if you
do that it will be very wrong. (Laughter.)

Magistrate—l shall inflict a fine of 10s., or, in default
commit you to prison for seven days.
Prisoner—ls that your decision ?
Magistrate—Yes, certainly.
Prisoner—Very well. There's somebody above that will
judge you some of these days. (Laughter.) You'll get a
longer time than seven days when it comes to your turn.
(Loud laughter.) Good morning, sir,

TERRIBLE ACCIDENT AT STOCKPORT,

Yesterday at the anniversary of the opening of
Vernon Park, the day's joyous proceedings termi-
nated in gloom and terror, owing to the trampling
to death of seven persons, and the serious injury of
at least four others.

The cause of this lamentable catastrophe is very
clear. The Cheadle wakes are being held, and they
tended greatly to swell the enormous streams of
human beings who flocked into the town to witness
the balloon ascent from the Castle Yard, and the
display of fireworks in the Market Place, with
which the festivities were to be brought to a close.
The Market Place can only be approached from
the town side by steep narrow streets,
some of them being broken by long flights
of stone steps ; and last evening, the Market
Place and all its approaches were densely
crowded by spectators, anxious to witness the re-
sults of Mr. Petty's pyrotechnic skill. As regards
those, all who could see had good reason to be satis-
fied; and itr the best of good spirits the huge crowd
began to disperse soon after nine o'clock.
Slowly the masses surged down the various
" brows"—carried on by the pressure from behind,
rather than moving individually. But speedily the
scene changed in the line of Meal House Brow.
There, some children and women either dropped
from exhaustion or tripped and were soon beneath
the feet of the descending throng. Shouts, shrieks,
even death-cries could not reach far in such a scene.
Those nearest the first sufferers pressed backwards,
only to be overcome by those further off, who knew
not that anything wrong had occurred, and who
would have been helpless with- the knowledge, as
against the resistless pressure out of the Market-
place.
The scene for some time beggars description. In
front, death in its most terrible form—trampling
out of existence, then helpless terror—next, igno-
rance and wonder at the stoppage, and to crown
all, the death-power coming from those who, de-
lighted with the day's enjoyment, thought only of
merrily and happily reaching home.
It was of course a long time ere effectual succour
could be given to the sufferers.
When at length the police force reached the spot
they found that six or seven persons were dead,
through trampling or suffocation. The number
slightly hurt could not be ascertained ; but the
injuries sustained by three or four are serious.
As far as we could ascertain last night, the fol-
lowing are the names of the dead :
John Thomas Gosling, of Hazel Grove, aged
about six years.
.Sabina Ford, of Stockport, between six and
seven years.
Wilkinson,. a female about 30 years.
A man, unknown, supposed to be from Staly-
bridge, and who had a number of temperance
pledges in his pockets.
A child, eight months old, an orphan in charge
of its aunt, who is also said to be killed.
0 wing to the confusion in the town, the police
were unable to obtain any reliable list of the suf-
ferers. _ _ .

It is estimated that nearly 30,000 persons were
congregated in and near the Market,Place.

TIIIS DJY'S MARKETS.

HAY MARKETS.

SMITHFIELD.-11loadov hay, £2-1 OR to £51.5s Od ; clovor
do., £3 lOs to £6 Os ; and straw,-13140s to £1 18s per load.
Trade dull.

CUMBERLAND. —.Meadow hay, £2 lOs to £5 153 ;
clover, £3 lOs to £6 Os Od ; and straw, £1 lOs to £2 Os
per lead. A slow trade.
WHITECHAPEL._Meadow hay, £2 103 to £5 153 Od;
clove!, £3 15s to £6 6s Od; and straw, £1 10s to £1 16s
por load. Supply moderate; trade dull.

COLONIAL.
TEA.—A very limited amount of business has been done,
and prices are unaltered.
SUGABS.—The market has shown very little animation,
and prices are flat for all descri▪
ptions ; in the refined market
lower rates are current.
COFFEE.—The demaEd has been active for the finer de-
scriptions, and full prices are Obtainable for all descriptions.
RICE.—A very limited busi▪
ness has been reported, and
the few bargains entered into have been at former rates.
SALTPETRE.—The market was dull without any change
of importance in values.
Fiturr.--There has been
.a fair inquiry for currants on
the part of the trade, and prices show an upward t endency.
TALLOW.—A steady business has been transacted for
present delivery, and prices continue firm. P.Y.C. on the
spot, 52s Gd to 52s 9d ; and spring delivery, 53s 6d per cwt.

GAIZIB.ILDI' S DIFFICULTY.

There is an unpleasing coincidence in the accounts
which come to us from Italy. We have, indeed,
tidings cf the most glorious successes, of victories
gained in the field, of frightened foes fleeing
before the patriot bands, and of cravens courting
captivity to avoid a fight. The Irish bravoes of
the Church, who went forth hoping only to have
to trample down a poor peasantry, have been seen
cowering beneath the swords of an insurgent people.
Everything is satisfactory, except only the in-
cessantly-repeated testimony that discord has crept
up under the cover of all this success. We turn
in vain from side to side to find some reason to
discredit this unwelcome tale. We dwell upon
the three great public facts that Garibaldi has
handed over the Neapolitan fleet to the King of
Sardinia, that he has proclaimed the laws of Sar-
dinia throughout his new conquests, and that he
has performed public acts of State in the name of
Victor Emmanuel. All these favourable facts are,
however, weakened or explained away by those
who are closely observing what passes in Italy.
Even Mr. Edwin James, who went out certainly
with no design to depreciate the great man whom
we have believed in as a second Washington, now
describes the Neapolitans as discontented and re-
actionary, the roads swarming with banditti, the
proclamations of Garibaldi as causing the deepest
disappointment to all the friends of Italy, and the
Dictator himself as surrounded and influenced by
those who do not hesitate to express their wish for
the proclamation of a Republic, IVe can under-
stand that Mr. Edwin James may not be very deep
in Garibaldi's confidence, but other accounts con-
cur. The I)ebats throws doubts upon the contra-
diction given at Turin to the correspondence be-
tween Garibaldi and the King; other reports fortify
Mr. Edwin James's rather indiscreet revelations as
to the freedom with which the Dictator habitually
speaks of the Emperor of the French and the
friends of constitutional monarchy in Italy are
saying, in sorrow and consternation, that t_lre country
conquered. from the Bourbons will have to be re-
conquered from Garibaldi. Men of all shades and
principles favourable to freedom are lamenting that
Garibaldi has fallen into bad hands.
If this be so—and we have waited in vain for
something which may explain or contradict these
bad tidings—then Italy was never in more immi-
nent danger than she is at this moment. We may
hope that the check just received before Capua is
only a partial and temporary repulse, and that the
proclamation which states his intention to join the
Sardinian troops at Rome, and then to mart!' upon
Venice, is rather intended to conceal than to indi-
cate his future movements. But neither of these
items of intelligence is reassuring upon the points
that cause the greatest uneasiness to the friends of
Italy. If future telegrams shall serve only to
deepen the assurance that the Revolution has en-
tered upon a new phase, and a phase of unhappy
complexion, then it is but too probable that the
event for which the enemies of the Italians have
been so long watching, and which they have been
disappointed to find so long delayed, is at hand.
According to the present appearances, the leaders
of Italy are quarrelling among themselves, and the
Revolution threatens to flow no longer between the
banks of law and order. Garibaldi, whose very ex-
ceptional position with respect to the law of nations
was excused, and even sanctified, by the greatness
of his views and the grandness of his contempt for
personal partialities or personal hatreds, has stooped
a little from his pride of place, and has given signs
of swerving towards a party. The recent acts of
the great Italian chief have been to surround him-
self with men who are the avowed enemies of that
constitutional form of government the armed
apostle of which Garibaldi has hitherto been, and
to distribute all the posts which fortune and
his own great qualities have placed at his command
among the avowed advocates of a Republican form
of government. We fear, too, that, notwithstand-
ing the official denial, it is but too true that he has
advanced pretensions to control the actions of the
King to whom he has always professed allegiance,
and has put forth those pretensions in a manner so
offensive that, coupled with his Republican en-
tourage, it seems doubtful how far Victor Emma-
nuel retains the conqueror of Sicily and Naples as
a subject.
It is not for us, nor for Europe, looking on in
sorrow at this critical position of so great a cause,
to poise the merits of the two parties, and to say
who is right and who is wrong. Garibaldi, doubt-
less, has had his slights and his ill-treatment ; but

the man cannot be right who takes occasion to
avenge himself at such a time as this, or who weighs
slights and ill treatment when the fate of his coun-
try is trembling in the balance. Even if Garibaldi
had done his work, had gathered all the fragments
of Old Italy together, and had cemented them into
one kingdom, he could not make such demands upon
Victor Emmanuel as he is now doing, without for-
feiting the character for unselfish patriotism which
had made his name so dear throughout Europe.
But, so far from having consolidated his con-
quest, his successes are at present little more
substantial in their character than the confla-
gration which rushes along the American
prairie. A Revolution which does but destroy
is only the parent of violent reaction. But it
does not appear that hitherto Garibaldi has
erected anything permanent in place of 'What he
has pulled down. The accounts from Sicily insist
that anarchy reigns in that island. The reports
from Naples testify to a complete administrative
disorder. There is a disbanded army scattered over
the country, requiring careful watching, yet it does
not appear that any steps have yet been taken to
protect the industry and property of the land from
the natural consequences of turning loose those
wandering bands of necessitous men. The intoxi-
cation of a mere political success will pass away, but
the absence of law and order would be found in-
tolerable. If industry and property should be long
insecure, the popularity of Garibaldi and the exul-
tation of the free Italians must soon be at an end.
Garibaldi is possessed of great power, but he is
powerful only so long as he travels in the right path.
To unite Italy into one kingdom under Victor Em-
manuel is a work in which he can play a very
glorious part. But to establish an Italian Republic
of the Mazzini pattern Garibaldi is as impotent as
the beggar who sits upon the steps of St. Peter's.
In these moments of enthusiasm a leader's power is
probably very much over-estimated, both by. him-
self and by others. With all respect for popular
enthusiasm, the revolutionary movements in the
South of Italy have yet to ba tried by any real
test. There has been no opposition. The Neapolitan
soldiers would not fight. Even the army which Gari-
baldi has brought across to Naples is said to have
excited more astonishment than admiration in the

minds of the Neapolitans. He now desires the
King of Sardinia to supply their places with
30,000 soldiers, while he leads his own followers
northward, in order to complete the conquest of
the Peninsula. Up to this moment there is nothing
in the achievements of these levies to justify us in
believing that they would stand even the first brunt
of a collision with a disciplined army, whether
French or Austrian. We have no example of the
success of guerilla troops in such a contest, even
when the forces have been in some degree equal ;
but what the result must be of a battle between this
handful of hardy guerillas, with their following of
Sicilians, and such an army as either France or
Austria could place in the field against them, would
require no seer to foretell. It took Napoleon just
' three weeks to destroy every vestige of the. Spanish
insurrection, and when we afterwards came to
revive it we know how troublesome and useless an
ally we found it. It took lladetzky about the same
time to trample out the Lombard insurrection and
to wind up the whole affair at Novara.
What, then, can this all mean? 'What means
the appearance of Mazzini at Naples? What the
establishment of Mazzini's colleague in Sicily ?
What the despatch of an emissary of the same
detestable creed to London ? What this peremptory
tone to the King of Sardinia ? What this prescrip-
tion of the statesman who has really done all that
was done to initiate this progress towards Italian
unity ? Are we about to be compelled to abandon
all our hopes just at the moment of fruition ? Are
we reluctantly to believe that the doom of slavery
which has so long hung over that fair country
which once lorded it so haughtily over the world,
is not yet reversed, and that the time has not
yet come when Italy can give birth to men
who have virtue enough to sink their own passions,
jealousies, and ambitions, or even to restrain them
until they ,
have succeeded in effecting their coun-
try's liberation ? The crisis is still pending, and
it is a great crisis for Italy and a great crisis for
Garibaldi. We do hope he will not allow himself
to be deluded by the political Thugs who have got
about him. The Mazzinis and Crispis have no root
either in Italy or in Europe ; and if they lead
Garibaldi to believe the contrary, they will betray
not only Garibaldi, butltaly, toperdition. We will
not yet yield to these evil tidings; we will hope
Garibaldi will yet break away from these fatal
counsellors. But upon the course he may now take
will depend the alternative whether future genera-
tions of Italians will venerate his name as that of
hadoof
their national hero, or whether he
i will
al be remem
vh-
gallantbut fanatc seoledr
ier
bered only as a
refused for Italy the fairest offer she ever
freedom.-2 bites.

CUNNING AND WIT.—A well-known city officer
in Auld Reekie was celebrated for his cunning and wit.
HiS mother having died in Edinburgh, he hired a hearse
and carried her to the family burying place in the High •
-lands. Be returned, it-is said, with the hearse full of
smuggled whiskey, and being toased about it by a friend,
lea said—" Wou, man, there's nao harm done... I enly took
two; the body aAd DrQug4t 144; the qeorit."