The Sun.
London, England, 1826-04-03 00:00:00

TIM LONDON JOURNALS.
DAILY

Extracts lonia the Morniitii'vent,April 3, 18i6.

[THE TIRES.]
The reports from different parts of India re-
specting the state of our negociations with the
.Burmese throw but doubtful and conflicting
lights upon the prospect of peace or of continued
war with those barbarians. A commercial letter
from Ceylon, dated the 18th November, affirms
that peace was positively concluded, on condition
of the King of Ave indemnifying the Company to
the extent of two crores of rupees, and giving
them possession of several maritime stations on
the eastern coast of the Bay of Bengal : while a
Calcatta Gazette of the alleged date of Nov: 25,
declares, on the contrary, that the above terms,
though proposed by Sir Archibald Campbell, had
been rejected by the enemy ; who, judging from
the expressions quoted, were more disposed to
answer the British General by a show of
civility, and a display of diplomatic forms, than
to enter heartily into the subjects on 'which
he had invited them to treat. I f there be not an
error in dates, and a substitution of November
2b for October 25 in that assigned to the Bengal
.Harkara, from which the above discouraging ac-
counts are taken, it is not very easy to reconcile
the opposite intelligence from Calcutta and
Ceylon, unless by presuming that news from
Rangoon might have reached Columbo, more
Apeedily than the seat of Government in India,
and that facts which had been communicated to
the commercial residents at the former place on
the 18th of November, were unknown
,a week
later at Calcutta. It is just possible that peace
might have been concluded at the time and on the
terms particularized ; but we wish to guard our-
selves from the supposition of our believing in an
event so important on such authority.

S;r William Curtis has. advertised, it seems, his
o 11 resignation of that seat for the city, in which
he has rat and !prospered for so many years. Of
this worthy Alderman in his political capacity,
we may say with as much truth as it was said
of another knightly personage in respect of his
soda) qualifications, that the city " could have
bolter spared a better man." Whether Sir Wil-
liam Curtis drew from constitution that over-

flowing. exuberance, and seeming frankness of
good humour, the semblance of which appeared
on most occasions to characterise and grace hip,
outward person, or whether it WWI an engine of
popularity and advancement, employed on Wet:-
and.applied to purposes in which aelf•in-
terNst had, more concern than genuine attention

to the feelings or warfts of others, we shall not
narrowly investigate. Sir William bore not
affeete&the reputation of being eminently loya
on all 'occasions. Ile was at least very dili,

gently ministerial in his votes. lie never, during
the active periods of his life, missed a division
in the 'House of Commous, or failed of being
counted on the strongest side. 'rite worthy Al-
derrowseemed; whenever an outcry.was to be
raised for objects considered desirable by the
Minister, to strain his throat with greater energy
and more signal success than most of his brethren
in the trade of partisanship. lie was a jovial,
tborougli4oing life.and.fortmie man ; yet with
little desperation in his zeal, for the Knight went
on, fattening and flourishing every day of his
politicalexistence : so that those who held
hts Intellectual powers the cheapest, have sel-
dom accused the worthy Alderman of forget.
ting that number " l" was the most valuable
figure in arithmetic, or of toi,stAking4 amongst
all his imputed blunders, how to turn that re-
collection to the best account. Sir William is
described by some individuals to have proved
himself a kind and active friend. There are
others who praise him for being also stanch and
iaveteiate hater. lie was, undoubtedly, an easy,
adroit, and agreeable man of the world—who
4,11110'1,1e kept the one thing needful- in view, Ito
matter what course he professed, or appeare'd to
follow, so managed his politics; and his inter-
Course With society, es to make both productive
of fortune, friends-, and 6-edit. We speak now of
Sir William Curtis as of one who has been, and
Moiert.no longer upon that Stages %vitich alone has
rendered him a becoming subject of free remark
and criticism. In those snore engaging scenes of
private, life 'Whit+ the worthy Alderman is so
well fitted to enjoy; We heartily wish him many
future years of undisturbed repose and satisfac.
ion Mid)

[-MORNING IfEItALD.I
, Parliament leas yet got through but little of its
actual business ; and we do not see what probe.
bility there can he of the Session ending tip soon
as has beets reported, We believe there has been
as yet but one, or at most, too commissions for
giving the lloyal Assent to Bills, while every
thing of. a weighty nature,--such, as. Mr. Peel's
judicial Reform Bills; the Insolvent. Act, and
the necessary proceedings arising out of the Chun.
cry Report,,rernaiwas yet but almost ill embryo.
We have,no .doubt but Ministers now sorely re-
gret ' not htving dissolved the Parliament last
Year, at a time when. the WiIIatOIIIIPS4 of wealth,
whether real or apparentvwould have brought
both mere gumt humour, us well esltioneyv into
play, at the homier:, than they are likely 1)049 to,
witness ; and having let slip the lucky moment,
-we should not seaside", if they Wet* still iliGlified
to wall the clitteew of, what the chapter of acci-
dents may turn up, and ,postpone, the dissolution
till after the ensuing harvest. >Seats are said to
be wa cheap and plentiful as cucumbers, few
people comparatively having money to spare for
suet, objects ; sad ,fewrr still being willing to
risk any great expellee. for, ao object,the tenure
of which most weas.ssarily be more than ever un-
eprritin. Indeed -we 4;1111 hardly imagine et any
(floppy so absently laid nu ttsin: contested
time
electiontr;, which; to say nottraig of therein they
often. brivz alter, those who engage in tbern,,
mare to demoralize the people and, undermine
public liberty then arty one cause that can be
named.

$
[nn ill I'll I, •
Uncommon pains have been take'nto excite the
most unfavourehio feelings towards th© West

India Planters, in the various petit ohs' that have
been of late got up with so much industry against
tho'Slave Trade. One fact that has all along
been strongly insisted upon, as leading to .the
most flagrant denials of justice, Is the rejec-
tion of a slave's testimony in the case of a
white freeman. The appeals that have been
made in behalf of all the principles of equity on
this head sound very plausible. It seems very
unjust, at first view, to refuse the evidence of any
human being on the ground of his colour; mad
the exclusion may easily be made, as it has been,
to work upon our sympathies, and to furnish an
endless topic of declamation against the 13ritisb
Legislature. But the fallacy consists in arguing
as if the same principles applied to the negro
population of the West Indies as to the papilla.
tien of Great Britain, educated under an en-
lightened Government, and whore the laws are
administered toga free people. Looking, not to
the sentimental, but to the cummou sense, view
of the rule which rejects the evidence of slaves,

it clearly operates more to their protection than
to their prejudice. Suppose the. Master to be
charged with a crime, and that his slave, if
called as a witness, could give evidence that
would tend to prove his guilt. The first
attempt of the Master, of course, would be
to use his influence, as well as his power,
over the slave, to make him either withhold
his evidence or swear falsely in his behalf. If

he refused to do either, but give his testi-
mony in open court, and the master should after
All, chance to he acquitted, what would be the
fate of the slave? Suppose two or more slaves to
give evidence in any, case against their master,
which might go to convict him of the offence
charged, would not the chance be, that in almost
every such case, the master would bribe or
terrify other of his slaves to impeach such testi-
mony, and to perjure themselves in his behalf?
It is not obvious what a ehannel would here be
opened for intrigue, and fraud, and villany,
among the worst of the slave population, and
what a source of dismay and suffering to
the better order? It is on a principle near
akin to that we are adverting to,• that our
laws do not admit a wife, in criminal cases,
to give evidence either for or against her hos.
band ; because it would lay a ground for divi-
sions und quarrels,and expose her to a vengeance
against which, being subjected to the power
of tier husband, she could not defend herself,

It is the policy of our law to present any per-
trons from being placed, as witnesses, in a situa-
tion in which their interest may induce t! em

to depart from the truth. Will any one say that a
slave is not in this situation, or that the interests
of justice, as, well as humanity, do not require
that he shouid be defended from the oppres,ion
to which he would be exposed, were this policy
departed from ? The British Parliament is wisely
anxious not to interfere with the Colonial system
of slavery ; and if the local Legislatures appear
in some instances slow in administering altera-
tives, it is likely that they see enough in the
nature of the disease to justify great caution in
the application of the remedies.

ASSIZE INTELLIGENCE.

WARWICK, FRIDAY, MARCH 31.

HORRID MURDER.

Mich Oil Ford, a native of Ireland, was indicted for the wil-
ful murder of Richard Perry, on the fith of December last, at
Birtitlnghinn, by giving him two mortal blows on the head
with a cleaver. The prisoner pleaded " not guilty."' The pe.
cant atrocity of the case made it an object of such interest,
that the Court was literally crammed ; and it was with dill).
milt.; the javelin..men could prevent the crowd in the hail from
overpowering them. The Clounsel for the prosecution called
the following witnesscat—
' Miss Mary Perry examined by Mr. CLATM—I am the
niece of the deceased, who kept a grocer's shop, in Mary-Ann..
street, Birmingham. I have known the prisoner for a short
time. I had often seen him at my uncle's shop ;he was in the
habit of purchatting things there, and my uncle gave him credit,
end he used to pay weekly.. I saw him in the shop on the night
of the Ifith December a little after ten o'clock. The prisoner
was standing at the middle of the counter, my uncle was on the
inside ; I was in the kitchen, and my aunt was in the shop. lat
first heard persons talking in the shop, and on in out I saw a
person -in the shop; he asked for a hock of pock; he said be
could pay for it, in order that his bill might not be so large on
Saturday night,. I then looked into the shop and saw the prk
senor. My aunt came from the shop and went into the cellar.
] heard the chopping ofpork on the block ; in about tenminutett
after that I heard the money drawer fall the money rattle.
I then got up and went towards theshop door. On looking
through the glass door I saw the prisoner with the cleaver in his
hand; he held it raised up in both hands ; he wail coming to-
wards the kitchen. I said to him " you have' murdered my
uncle." He mad no reply. I then wrenched the clearer from
his hands, and dashed it upon the ground. I threw him down
upon' the &Or, after which I ran through ,the shop into the
street, and gave an alarm by screaming out murder. The pri •
boner ran out alter me and escaped. When I was running
through the shop I saW my uncle lying behind the counter;
there was blood upon his face. On my crying out, my aunt
came from the cellar. When I returned I found her in the
ebop. SV'e tried to lift The deceased up, but could not. Ile
bad wounds upon his head ; he was conveyed into the kitchen.
When I came back I saw the money lying about my uncle,
and the drawer upon the floor. I gave the cleaver to Anne
Smith, who came in when the alert)) was given.- There were
marks of blood upon the comer and on the drawer. lily uncle ,
had a straw hat on' when I saw him talking to ithe prisoner
There was no one in the shop when I met the prisoner with the
cleaver in his hand. The cleaver produced by .Me. Atkins is
the one I took from the prisoner, and the drawer is the one I
found upon the ground, and in which the. money was kept;
the fiat producedis &Jane my uncle wore. I made it for him ;
the cuts now visible were not in it when I made It. The psi..
fitment -pia-book was foetid upon the corner. My uncle died
on the following day, and he never spoke after I saw him on
the ground.
Hannah Perry. am the widow- of the deceased; I had
known the prisoner about 3 weeks before my hushand's death ;
the prisoner wes employed by my husband to take in some po..
taws he bought a loaf and some bacon at our abut on the
morning of the kb of December; he had a book, in which 'the.
articles were set down ; I remember his coming about, ten
o'clock on the night of the murder ; he asked.for sugar, coffee,
bacon, arid other articles ; my husband end I gave them to
him ; the deceased was behind the counter;. the articles were
entered in the prisoner's book ; after that the prisoner asked
for a hock of pork; my husband chewed him one, and asked
him if he should chop ? lie said "yea," but not to enter it in
tlie'boolc:" husband chopped it on a block near the shop-
door; and. left it anti the cleaver on the block ; .toy, husband
stood with his back against the counter, and his foot upon the
block ; the prisoner was close ,to him; I then went into the
kitchen to -get tuitne beer from the cellar ; there was no strang:r
in the shop after the prisoner came in ; my mete was sitting
in
the back kitchen. I was hi the cellar about live minutes, when
I heard the money. fail. I then ran up stain', and heard
my, niedo exelninung, "he has murdered my uncle 11' As
alit as came into the shop, I saw the prisoner going down
the *tape from the door, I looked about the shop and could not
see my husband at first. I, afterwards found hint lying near
the tire place. Ilk head was near a tub. I laid hold of his
shoulder to taise him up, and, rceived, that Waimea WAS bleed-
.ink in a dreadfUl manner. I was not able to lift lihn up. A
great Untidier of persons came in anti helped to remove him
moo theback kitchen. I sent for. two surraiuna. Mr..E.Aingtoa
came farce.:,
,
Mr. Vilnius Russell Elkingtorr eistithied—l am a surgeon,
on the night. ,of: that of
and resideat Birmingham. I.Wai willed In to see the deceased
eleven. . I found linn'aupported in a chair in tile back kitchen.
December, abept wiener before
He was quite aermelesn. 1 examined kris head, and had hint

taken up stairs. I took off the handkerchief and examined the
wotinds. I removed several pieces of bone from about the
wound on the forepart. The wound on that part was six inches
long.. It tilt through the bone and the membrane of the brain
to the depth of about an inch into the head. There was another
wound on the back part of the head, about five inches and a
half long ; it_ penetrated an inch into the substance of the
brain, apart of which was visible on the outer surface, each of
those wounds was sufficient to cause death. It hardly could be
expected that a man could recover from them. They no. doubt
caused Mr: Perry's death. The cleaver produced would inflict
such.wounds, which must have been given by a sharp cutting
instrument. _

Robert Boughey was then called. He said, I am a police-
officer of Liverpool. I heard of the murder. I went in
search of thee prisoner, having received a description of his
person. I saw him at eleven o'clock on the morning of the
ath of December standing near the pier head of St. George's
dock, Liverpool. He was going on board the City of Dub-
lin steam-packet, which was almost ready to sail. I
watched him till he went on board. Ile had his left hand
in his breeches' pocket all the 'time. I went up to him and
desired him to take it out. On' his showing his hand I per-
ceived that the first joint of the third finger was broken, and
that the little finger was crooked. These -marks agreed with
the description in the handbills. On being asked his name, he
said it was John Banbury, and that he had never been in Bir-
mingham, and that he had arrived from Manchester on the
preceding night. I charged him with the murdei of Mr. Perry,
but he denied it in the most positive manner. I took him into
custody, and conducted him to Birmingham with the assist;.
ance of Atkins. _ _ _

The prisoner, when asked for his defence, said, " I am in-
nocent of the crime now kid to my charge. I had nothing to
do with it."

Here the prisoner handed in a paper, on which he had written
his defence, which was to the following effect.
'- My Lord and Gentlemen—Now hear the unfortunate and
innocent mr.n that stands before you. Although I am in a
strange country, and there is not a single eye here that
knows me, I am sure there4ue many hearts that pity my
awful situation. 1 went fit London to Birmingham to
get work. I was on friendly terms with the deceased.
When I bought the things at his shop on the night of the
Gth of December, 1 asked hint to allow me to leave them
there till the next morning. Ile said 'Do so.' I went
away, and when near my own lodgings I heard a cry of mur.
der. I went back inwards Mr. ferry's shop ; there were Bove•
ral persons round the door. They said Mr. Perry had been
murdered, and that the villain had escaped. Fearing that
suspicion might fall upon me, and not knowing the laws, I
walked on and &Lammed to go back to my own country. I
am now convinced l did wrong in going away, as there is laW
in England for 'the poor as well as the rich. I am accused of
slaying a good friend, but l am innocent. Look at the little
sum of money found on me. When misfortunes happen to
people, their friends are too apt to suspect the first person they
see. I am not able to explain how improbable • the evidence
against me is—l know my counsel can't speak for me, but
My Lord Judge' is always, the prisoner's counsel. Don't
remember the false stories against me. They ought not to be
believed. I now once more assure you, that the blood of this
man is not at my hands."
The Learned Judge summed uP the evidence, and the Jury
after consulting for a fel/ moments, declared the prisoner
,Guyty. _ _

Mr-. Justice LiTTLEDALE proceeded to pass the dreadful
sentence of the law, and addressed the prisoner in the follow.
ing manner.
Prisoner, you have been convicted of the murder of the de-
ceased, who had shown you frequent acts of kindness. I can-
not imagine what could have led you to perpetrate such a deed,
except the desire of taking the deceased's money. I cannot
hold out the 'tut hope to you; your life must be short, and is
now forfeited to the laws. I therefore advise you to endeavour
by penitence to sync for your offences. The Learned Judge
concluded by passing sentence on the prisoner, who is to be
executed on Alonday-next.
The prisoner, from the commencement the end of the
trial, which lasted five hours, preserved a wonderful coolnesi
and composure, which almost amounted to indifference.