The Sun.
London, England, 1844-04-16 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING, APRIL l6, 1844.

Ito produce insanity ; he therefore thought it would be
I well to give it up altogether.
Sir J. GRAILIAI said he was bound to state to-
i
the Hon. Gentleman and to the Committee that if
this vote was to be viewed as one of expenditure
alone he was not prepared to defend it on that ground.
A considerable portion of the vote was not for the
maintenance of the prisoners but for the maintenance
of the edifice. He thought the Hon. Gentleman had
exaggerated the expenses per head. He believed the
expenses per head for each prisoner in the Parkhurst
prison was 241. and in the Pentonville prison 301.
The report of the Pentonville Commissioners had
been laid on the table of the House only that day.
He was sorry it was not in the hands of Hon. Gentle-
men so that they could become acquainted with its
contents before the present vote came on. Consider-
ing the nature of the statements and the autho-
rity on which they were made, he was sure
a more satisfactory report could not be
presented to the consideration of the House.
He would read the conclusion of the Commissioners'
report to the House, whereby they would be enabled
to see the result of the experiment. He was sure the
names of the Commissioners were a guarantee that
every confidence might be placed in the report.
They were—Lord Wharncliffe and the Duke of
Richmond, the Earl of Devon, Lord Chichester, Lord
John Russell, the Right Honourable Charles Shaw
Lefevre, Speaker of the House, Sir Benjamin Brodie,
Dr. Ferguson, Major Jebb, and Mr. Richard
Russell. They stated that under all the circum-
stances they thought themselves fully justified in coming
to the conclusion that the system of separate confine-
ment, as adopted in Pentonville prison, had been ex-
posed to a more test, and that nothing had occurred
to induce them to believe that the system might not
safely be carried into effect. The rate of mortality
was low, and there was a moral and religious im-
provement in the prisoners, amongst whom a cheerful
spirit prevailed; whilst those benefits had been con-
ferred on them, discipline had been strictly main-
tained, and the penal character of the prison had not
been sacrificed to the object of reformation ; and, on
the whole, they had no hesitation in expressing their
satisfaction at the results, and they were of opinion
that the adoption of the system of separate confine-
ment,
as adopted in Pentonville prison, was well cal-
culated to deter, correct, and reform offenders. That
was the conclusion to which the Commissioners had
come. Then, with respect to the course of instruc-
tion adopted, the following results appeared with re-
spect to 525 prisoners confined from 31st December,
1842, to 31st December, 1843 ; he would give the de-
tails, under the heads of reading, writing, and scrip-
tural knowledge. On the admission of those 525,
there were 169 of them who could read well, and
70 who could not read at all. At the end of the
year 343 could read well, and there was not a single
prisoner that could not read at all. On their
admission, there were 263 who-, could write
well, and 327 who could not write at all.
At the end of the year there were 304 who could
write well, and only 262 who could not write at all.
With respect to the higher rules of arithmetic, there
were 27 versed in them, and 363 who knew nothing
at all about them. At the end of the year there were
522 well instructed in those higher rules, and only
six not versed in them at all. Then, with regard to
scriptural knowledge'; there were at their admission
66 who had a considerable knowledge of Scripture,
and 287 who had none at all. At the end of the year
341 had become intimately acquainted with the
Scripture, and not one was totally ignorant of it.
Thus, on those cardinal points, at all 'events, the re-
port was satisfactory. With regard to the trades in
which they were instructed, he reminded the House
of the decision that had been come to with respect to
those prisons, that no one confined in them should be
ever again thrown upon society, but should be trans-
ported to a penal colony. That decision might, per-
haps, be deemed a harsh one, but it was most salutary
for society here, and it involved the paramount duty,
even at some cost of money, of providing for those
criminals to be thus transported, the means of earn-
ing an honest livelihood in the colonies-to which they
were to be sent. They were accordingly instructed
in the various handicrafts most in demand in the
penal colonies, viz. those of carpenters, coopers,
wheelwrights, weavers, basket-makers, shoemakers,
tailors—in short, in all those arts of skill and labour,
which are most requisite for the distant colonies.
When such advantages were derivable from the expe-
riment, he could not think that 40,0001. a-year was
an excessive sum for the reformation of 1,050 crimi-
nals annually ; at all events, he entreated the House
not to mar a great experiment which was only in its
infancy, but which promised so well.
After a few words from Mr. WILLIAMS,
Mr. ESTCOURT inquired if the Right Hon.
Gentleman was aware that persons who had not been
convicted, but who were only confined for trial, were
subjected to separate confinement.
Sir J. GRAHAM said, that no prisoner was
sent to those prisons, to which the present vote ap-
plied, but those who were sentenced to transportation
for at least seven years. And as to other prisons, he
was not aware that separate confinement, if adopted
without any accompanying circumstances of degrada-
tion, was contrary to law in the case of untried
prisoners.
Mr. AGLIONBY said, it appeared to him that the
lower the price of labour the greater would be the
competition.
Sir J. GRAHAM read an extract from the Report
of the Poor-law Commissioners, ;for the, purpose of
chewing that the prisoners sent to these prisons were
mostly unacquainted with any trade.
The vote was then agreed to.
20,364/. was voted to defray the expenses of the
Pentonville prison.
47,6891. was voted to defray the expenses of the
Millbank prison.
3ic9r7i2mLinwalasluNn-oatted to defrayicsinßet the expenseshlehemhospital.of confin-
ing6,soo/. was voted to pay the salaries and expenses
of the inspectors of prisons, and the salary of the Se-
cretary of the Prison Board in Scotland.
63,935/. was voted to defray the law expenses in
Scotland.
62,109/. was voted to defray the expenses of crimi-
nal prosecutions and other law charges in Ireland.
30,0001. was voted to defray the expanses of the
metropolitan police in Dublin.

6,337/. was voted to defray the expenses of building
prisons and convict depots.
A vote of 27,0901. was agreed to for defraying the
expenses of maintaining convict and hulk establish-
ments at home and abroad, and

The sum of 300,0001. was voted for the support of
the Convict establishments in New South Wales, and
Van Diemen's Land.
The House then resumed, and the Chairman ob-
tained leave to sit at again Friday.

DRURY-LANE THEATRE.

The new grand ballet, Lady Henrietta; or, the
Statute Fair, which has been recently performing,
with immense success, at the Academic Royale de
Musique, in Paris, was produced at this theatre last
evening, for the purpose of introducing Mademoiselle
Lucille Gfalm to the English public. The scene of
the ballet is laid in England, in the time of Queen
Anne, and the story is a very simple one :—Lady
Henrietta, one of the Maids of Honour to the Queen,
accompanied by her waiting-maid, goes, disguised as
a peasant girl, to a statute fair, held in Greenwich
Park, for the hiring of servants. She then so com-
pletely fascinates Lyonnel, a young farmer, that he
refuses to marry Minna, the girl to whom he was be-
trothed, and in despair enlists as a soldier. He is
stationed on duty at Windsor Castle, where he saves
the Queen's life, and is promoted in consequence. He
sees Lady Henrietta at Court, and finding his passion
is hopeless, goes mad. In this state of things the
lady relents; and eventually Lyonnel recovers, and
they are united. The part of Lady Henrietta was
sustained by Mdlle. Lucille Grahn, by far the most
accomplished danseese that has for a long time ap-
peared on this stage. We are no longer surprised
at the marvellous stories we have heard of the
furore which this young lady has occasioned
at Milan and in Paris ; and, if we mistake not; she
will create quite as great a sensation in this country.
She is very young, very pretty, and very animated—
her figure is faultless. Nothing could exceed the
graceful elegance of her poses in the grand pas de
deux with Silvain in the first act, and the ease which
she accomplished some of the most difficult tours de
force proved her to be a thorough mistress of her art,
and prepared us to expect great things in the subse-
quent part of the ballet. And highly as our expecta-
tions were raised, they were much more than realised.
It is impossible for those who have not seen Madlle.
Grahn to form the slightest idea of the exquisite beauty
of her dancing in the Pas des Venus. At one moment
she gives us the light, airy, bounding, sylph-like
movements of Taglioni—then, again, the neat, rapid,
twinkling steps of Fanny Elssler, executed with a
rapidity that is positively dazzling—then the arrowy
rush of Cerito, and yet there is great originality
about her style. She is no servile imitator. Dancing
is with her what language, what music is with others—
a means of expressing feeling; and most eloquently
does she discourse. To her Terpsichore is indeed a muse
—an inspiration ; the term " poetry of motion," is no
exaggeration when applied to the dancing of Made-
moiselle Lucille Grahn. None but those who
have seen her can form the slightest idea of
the marvels of the Pas des Venus—it is what many
other dances have been called, a true Pas de Fascina-
tion. It was, as a matter of course, rapturously en-
cored. Madame Giubelei, M. Delferier, and that
very clever girl, Clara Webster, danced a
rustic pas de trois admirably, were much
applauded, and in the last act, Mr. H. Payne,
as a dansomaniac, created much laughter by his
humorous vagaries in the Dense des Foes. This dance
was admirably managed, and told exceedingly ; but
we must enter our protest against the principle of
turning such a horrible calamity as madness into
ridicule. The laugh which is raised by the humours
of a mad-house, is but a heartless one, at best. The
scenery was magnificent, the music pretty and appro-
priate, and the mise en scene perfect. Mademoiselle
Grahn was called for at the conclusion, and, on being
led forward by Silvain, was received with the most
enthusiastic plaudits. The house was crowded in
every part.

LIEUT.-COLONEL FAWCETT AND
LIEUTENANT MUNRO.

which I replied, " How can I help feeling dull while
this business is pen,ling ?" " Oh," he said, "as to
that business I consider it as settled; my last note
must have satisfied them; it must have settled it."
Nothing further took place till about six o'clock,
when, as we were going dowri to dinner, Mr. Cuddy
came in, looking pale and harassed. I merely shook
hands with him, and returned to the drawing-room,
as I saw he was unwilling to speak before me. When
I was called down, I found my husband very grave,
and he informed me that Lieutenant Munro would
not accept his last note, on the ground that it was
then too late, and still insisted on a meeting, but added
that Lieutenant Cuddy was to see Mr. Grant once
more, and would let him know the result in the even-
ing; and on my observing how happy I should feel
when it was amicably settled, he said, with a sigh,
" That he wished to Heaven it was." I then, as I
had repeatedly done before, entreated him to endea-
vour, if possible, not to meet Lieutenant Munro,
which he was as anxious as myself to avoid doing.
He did not hear from Lieut. Cuddy till near mid-
night, when he received a note, a few lines of which
I read over his shoulder, and when I saw that their
purport was that Lieut. Cuddy had failed in his en-
deavours to effect an arrangement, and that they were ,
to go out, I fell back on my chair, nearly fainting,
when my husband said, in a displeased manner, " Oh,
this is just what I feared—that you would fail me
when I most required your firmness and obedience."
He then went to order a carriage to come early the
next morning, desiring me to get the servants to bed,
but observed, that as it was already so late, it would
be better for us both to sit up. He soon came back,
and lay down on the sofa, whilst I sat by his side.
Thus passed the remainder of that sad night. He
occasionally dozed, but I saw he wktched me
strictly, and was uneasy if I attempted to quit him.
However, I had no idea whatever of endeavouring to
give- information, for I well knew my husband's
character; although he never had any concealments
from me, and was kind, affectionate, and indulgent in
the highest degree, yet he would never have forgiven
the slightest interference on my part in a matter of
honour or duty. I also never thought that Lieutenant
Munro would fire at him ; and as I knew his own re-
solve not to discharge his pistol, I was assured all
would terminate happily, though I had a feeling of
terror I could not then account for. I may have been
to blame for the passive part I acted, but had I at-
tempted to interfere, the world would perhaps have
blamed me still more, and I had the certainty of losing
my husband's confidence for ever if I did so; but if I
have erred by my silence (for I have nothing else to
reproach myself with), God knows my punishment has
been a heavy one—the destruction of the prospects
of myself and child, and the utter ruin of every
hope of happiness to me. But I must hasten to the
conclusion of my sad relation. Shortly after my
husband had dressed and breakfasted, the carriage
arrived (I think it was near five o'clock), and he sent
me down to unfasten the hall door, lest the ringing
should rouse the servants, which • I did. He then
said, on taking leave of me," " God bless you, my
beloved Annie, you have shown yourself this night to
be a true and devoted wife ; and, remember, what-
ever happens, I go out with a clear conscience, for
they have forced me into this, and I will never fire at
your sister's husband." He then ran down the stairs
and let himself out. Little now remains for me say.
Of the fatal circumstances that afterwards took place,
those who peruse this statement know nearly as much
as I de, and I have now stated everything that passed.
to the best of my belief and recollection, up to the
time my husband left me. Of Lieutenant Munro's
feelings and intentions on going out, I will say
nothing, as they could only be known to himself, and
the great God who will one day judge us all; nor
will I dwell upon my own sufferings, which were
rendered still more acute by being made a theme of
conversation to the world; but, disregarding the fresh
anguish these details occasion me, 1 consider it my
duty to refute the odium thrown upon my beloved
husband's memory by the man that slew him, as well
as the odious reflections cast upon myself; for Lieut.
Munro is well aware that no person (excepting Mr.
Cuddy, to whom he could not mean to allude) but
myself hai any knowledge of what was going for-
ward ; and I now here most solemnly state that, from
first to last, I never once heard my husband mention
Lieut. Munro's name with the slightest degree of acri-
mony, nor did one word ever fall from my lips calculated
to produce that feeling, or prevent a reconciliation ; on
the contrary, as I have before said, I many times
implored him in the strongest terms to avoid a meet-
ing, which he most earnestly wished to do. I also
consider it right to state, that Colonel Fawcett was
never before either principal, second, or present at a
duel, but to my own personal knowledge had upon
several occasions acted as peace-maker, when
called upon by friends. As to the "suspicions of a
most unhappy nature," that were stated to have
been hinted at by Colonel Fawcett, I cannot possibly
imagine to what Lieutenant Munro pretends to
allude, nor can any of my husband's family or friends,
to whom I have applied, throw any light on the
subject ; I will, therefore, merely state that my hus-
band was most anxious to settle his affairs, and take
me on the Continent, as I had been suffering in health
and spirits ever since last April, when I had the mis-
fortune to lose my mother-in-law, who resided with
me ; and ever since our marriage we had been de-
sirous of disposing of the house in question, but had
been prevented from doing so until lately, on account
of my non-age and his absence from England.
Having now made this statement—and what it has
cost me so to do few can conceive—l am firmly re-
solved to be for ever after silent (if permitted) upon
this agonizing subject; nor will any future endea-
vours succeed in drawing forth another line from my
pen, or word from my lips.
ANNE FRANCES FAWCETT.