The Sun.
London, England, 1828-08-12 00:00:00

GRAND CRICKET MATC}IES.

A Grand Match %between eleven gentlemen of the Junior
Harrow Club, and eleven gentlemen of the Junior Ealing
Club, was played last week at Harrow-on-the-Hill. The
match excited a considerable degree of interest, and through-
out was attended by a numerous and distinguished assem-
blage of spectators. The Ealing gentlemen }von with ten
wickets to go down. The fullowing ie an accurate state-
ment of the game at ite conclusion :

HARROW. EAT.ING.
Ist Innings 49 Ist Innings 72
2d Ditto

On Monday se'nnight the Return Match between the
High Wycombe and the Windsor and Eton Junior Clubs,
was played in the Rye at Wycombe, and terminated in fa-
vour of the former by a majority of 40 runs. The day
proving one, the game was well contested, as will be seen
by the subjoined etatemeut

wyconnE. wINDSOB. AND ETON.
Ist Innings
............ 43 Ist Innings 25
2tl Ditt0,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 53,24-1 Ditto 3l

A Match was made at B96lytion last week between
"the
to be played on Wed..
Eden..sids and Derwent-side obeai
lVest had liberty to
owing Clubs,t to meet eleven
some ciraum_
be was unable
needay last at Cockermouth.
whento the Eden-
side Club arrived at Cockermouth according choose eleven men from the Carlialer.
of the Derwent-side Club, but
stances with which we are unacquaintedo
to secure some of the best players, and '
a
meat, their numbers were. found to be very Weak. appoint-
meat, nt"
Derwent-siders won the match in one innings, with'io
runs to spare.
DERWENT-SIDE. EDEN-SIDE.
First Innings 0 First Innings
Second ditto S 5

Total 69
Pickle fortune this time chose to smile upon the ruby
banner of the west but the battle is not always to the
brave. The winners are not elated, and the losers far
from dejected :—this it as it should be. Cricket is a
manly and social game, but greatly runs upon chances.
We fear the gentleman who so sportingly exerted himself
to get up the match is a considerable 105er,...-Carlisle

EXECUTION OF WILLIAM CORDER.

Bury St. Edmund's, August 11.

The conclusion of the tragic Polstead scene took

place to-day. So much has been written about this
murder, arid so many different features and bearings
of the case have been presented to the public, that
it is quite unnecessary to say much more on the
subject. Any one who has read the trial, the sum-
ming up of the Judge, and, above all, the defence
of the prisoner, must be convinced that there never
was a case so clearly proved by circumstantial evi-
dence. The scene appears to have been one of the
worst description, and were it not that the state-
ment of some of the facts, and that the utter desola-
tion of the prisoner at the present moment, might
be of use in deterring others from pursuing a similar
course, it would be better that the whole transaction
were buried in oblivion. Ass however, an account
to a certain extent may have such a tendency, we
give it only with that view, and certainly not to
gratify the craving of the public for the horrible and
the marvellous. Since his conviction Corder has
remained in a state of the utmost despair. There
does not appear, indeed, to be one circumstance at-
tending his committal, trial, and conviction, that can
afford him the smallest consolation. He committed the
murder without any ostensible object, he has denied the
deed all along, and, in order to save appearances, has
been driven to the utmost falsehood and deceit,
which have only the more confirmed every one of
the certainty of his guilt. His very friends seem to
have deserted him. His mother has not visited him
since his conviction, and has had only one interview
with him since his committal for trial. His wife has
seen him occasionally, and took her last farewell yes-.
terday. The interview lasted for about an hour and
a half, and the conversation turned on a variety of
topics—among others, the manner in which they
became acquainted. The Governor of the gaol, it
appears, had expressed some doubt of the facts ; and,
in order to remove his doubts, Corder appealed to
his wife at this interview, which took place in pre-
sence of Mr. Orridge, whether or no he had told the
truth. She, however, confirmed every thing that
lie had said. Forty-five answers had been' returned
to his advertisement from females in almost every
rank of life. One of them was from a lady who, as
lie said, kept her carriage, and was living in a sphere
very superior to his. She wrote him a letter, re-
questing him to attend at a certain Church, at a
certain hour, having one arm in a sling, and wearing
a black handkerchief. She described the carriage
in which she would come, and directed him to go to
a certain pew in the Church where he might be oppo-
site to her, and they might have a view of each other
during the service. He mistook the hour, however,
and when he went to the Church lie found that the
service was over. How he became acquainted with
his wife was not stated. When about to part with
her he said, I hope you will not marry again, and,
above all, not marry in a similar way—it is a most
dangerous way of getting a husband. 'When a hint
was given to him about the propriety of explaining
the origin and result of the crime for which he was
condemned, she said, "Read, pray, and hold your
tongue." On leaving him she requested that he
would see none of his relatives or acquaintances after
her ; and that she should be the last that had vi-
sited him. It appears that she is a woman of religious
habits, and used, when they were living at Eal-
ing, to remind him to say his prayers before going to
bed. He would say, " I'll do so in bed;" but his
wife had occasionally to give him another hint by
touching him on the elbow. He conducted himself
towards her, from all accounts, with a good deal of
kindness and propriety. He has admitted that he
forged a draft on the Ipswich bank for 901. It was
paid, however, since •his committal, and conse-
quently no further steps were to have been taken,
whatever might have been the result of his trial.—
From the beginning he has not had any strong
hopes of escape. He would look at the sword,
and say, " That sword will yet hang me ;" but it
bad nothing to do with it. From what he has I
said inadvertently, it would appear that he had
prepared the grave before he had enticed the un-
fortunate girl to the barn. On one person saying,
" What a time you must have taken in digging
the hele in such hard ground, and the dead
body beside you all the time !" " What !" said he,
" Who knows that she was there ?" but immediately
checked himself, and seemed vexed that he had said
so much. He said she died instantly, and that
many of the statements of the surgeons were incor-
rect. He never, however, would account for enticing
her from her father's house. When pressed to make
any answer to a question to that effect, he always
remained silent. The only effect the statement
which he read at the trial has had was to remove
all doubts of his guilt; but for that it is believed the
Jury would have acquitted him. One of them, the
first day, was not convinced of the identity of the
body, and seemed determined to hold out against
convicting him, though all the rest should be of a
different opinion. When he admitted the fact,
however, all their doubts were removed, and they
retired rather for the purpose of talking the ma:ter
over, than to remove any doubts. The question,
however, is now set at rest for ever by the confes-
sion which he made this morning. Mr. Sheen, the
High Sheriff's Chaplain, was with him last after-
noon, and appeared to have made great impression
on him. Mr. Stocking has also been unremitting in
his exertions to prepare him for his fate, and induce
him to admit the justice of his sentence. He per-
sisted, however, in saying that it was of no use to
confess to any but God alone, and but for the
friendly advice of Mr. Orridge, and the Chaplain,
Mr. Stocking, it is probable that he would not at ail
have admitted his guilt. The manner, however, in
which this was ae,complislied, will be best explained
by the following statement of Mr. Orridge