The Sun.
London, England, 1827-05-28 00:00:00

BURT V. SIZACREL.

This was an action brought by the plaintiff to recover
damages for an assault committed upon him by the de-
fendant who is a livery-stable-keeper in Oxford-street.
Mr. MESMER, in stating the case to the Jury, ob-
served, that the plaintiff was under the necessity of callin
the defendant's attorney, Mr. Ford, who was himself
party to this assault, as a witness in support of the action
the only other witness who had been present being an offi-
cer in the Guido, and serving at present with his regiment
in Portugal.

Mr. Ford, therefore, being called, gave the follawirr.:
account of the transaction :—On the day in question wit-
ness and the defendant were standing together near the
premises of the latter, in Oxford-street, when Mr. Burt
came up, and asked witness how he did? The defendant
took that opportunity of applying to Mr. Burt for pay-
ment of a debt of 51., for which Mr. Burs told him he
would give him a cheque on his banker.—Mr. Burt, how-
ever, having changed his mind, stopped, and said he
would rather give the money. He then felt his pockets,
and observed that he bad not so much about him ; upon
which Mr. Shackel told hint he was a shabby fellow. To
this Mr. Burt replied, "It well becomes you to call me at
shabby fellow—you, who have been twice a bankrupt--
have been arrested fifty times ; and are now unable to look
your creditors in the face." Mr. Shackel immediately went
into his house, and brought out a lady's horsewhip ; then
taking Mr. Burt by the button-hole, and raising the whip,
said to him, " if you do not instantly reeant your expres-
sions, I will horsewhip you." Mr. Burs, in reply, denied
that he used the offensive expressions, and appealed to Mr.
Ford to say whether be had or not "If you appeal to
me," said Mr. Ford, " I must say that you did use them."
" You are a liar," said Mr. Burt. "Do you apply that
language to me, Sir ?" asked Mr. Ford. " Yes," retorted
Mr. Burt; you're a d—d liar." " I'll trouble you, Mr.
Shackel," said Mr. Ford, for the loan of this whip for u
moment ;" and taking it out of the defendant's hand, he ap-
plied it to the shoulders of the plaintiff, who r.t length took
refuge in the defendant's harness-roam, where he rrotected
himself from further violence by covering his person with
harness, leaving no part of it visible except his face, which
appeared through a horse-collar, with which lie endeavoured
to guard his head. Mr. Fold, having desisted from mak,
iug any further attack upon the plaintiff, he came forth
from his intrenchment, ehod; himself, and went away in
about three quarters of an hour, " every thing," said Mr.
Ford, " Having, as I thought, terminated amicably.—(A
laugh.)—Nowever, in about two mouths afterwards, lie
.thought proper to institute this action against Mr. Shacks!
in this Court, and another in the Court of Common Pleas
against me."

Mfr. Taut(Tax, in addressing the jury ou behalf of
defendant, observed, it was a pity that instead of a collar,
the defendant had not slipped his neck into a cord, for then
there would have been "ac-cord" (a clni,) in the case • and
very just "satisfaction" it would have been.—(Laughtsr. )
—He contended there was no case made out against the,
defendant.

Verdict for the plaintiff, one farthing damages.
The trial excited a great deal of amusement in tile Cult

MABERLY V. BROWNE.

Mr. JEavrs (who was assisted by Mr. Cutt„roN, while
Mr. THESSIGTR conducted the defence), stated that this
was an action brought by Mr. Maherly, the coach-builder
in Welbeck-street, against the defendant, who is a cabriolet
proprietor, to recover damages 1,,r the injury done to one
of his carriages, through the negligence of his servant.
The facts were shortly these •.—General Sehlukoff, of
the Russian service, hired a coach, driver, and pair of
horses, of the plaintiff, to take him and his ln.dy to Hamp-
stead, where they dined. On their return to town 'it night,
they drove at a brisk rate until they reached the stones,
when the driver slackened his pace, and proceeded slowly,
at the rate of about four miles an hour. The General did
not like this; and was about to order the coachman to
drive on more rapidly, when he was prevented by his lady.
" 1 confess," said the General, that although I yieldect
to my wife's wishes, I was discontented, as I like to go
quick, and therefore remained with my head hanging
down, until suddenly aroused from my position by a strange
intrnder; for,• just as we were passing from John-street
into Oxford-street, in popped a horse's head through the
window, to the great terror of my wife, and my own
amazement."—(Great laughter. )—The defendant's ca.
briolet, it seems, was coming along Oxford-street towards
St. Giles's, at a rapid pace, when it came in contact with
the carriage at this spot ; and not only did the horse's
go through the window, but the shaft of the cabriolet pe-
netrated the panel of the carriage. There was, as usual in
such cases, contradictory evidence, each party attributing
the negligence to the other. The driver of the cabriolet
added, in explaining how his horse's head could, in that
case get into the carriage window, " that the shaft drew it
ic.—(A laugh.)
The Jury found a verdict for the plaintiff for 111. 75.,
the amount of the sum he had at first demanded for the in-
jury, but which demand he had subsequently increased
201. ISs.

COURT OF CONDELEGATES, MAY 26.
FREE AGAINST 130R40YN..E, PROMOTER OF THE orrzcx

TIR 30AGE.

This Was An appeal from the Arches Court, in a suit
promoted against Dr. Free, Rector of Sutton, Bedfordshire,
fur scandal in the church, involving charges of fornication,
incontinence, and gross misconduct..

Dr. LtisHlNozox, for the promoter, moved that the
cause might be assigned for sentence before the whole com-
mission, non ()Wants an appeal by writ of error from the
Court of King's Bench, on a collateral question pending
before the House of Lords. As the case was of a most
serious and pressing nature, owing to its peculiar circum-
stances, Aild the party being gill in the exercie4 of his

duties, and in possession of his benefice' he trusted the
Court would grant -the motiotr, which was according
to form. - • . - .

-
Dr. Jitsst ADDAMS opposed the motion.
The Coosa were of opinion that :.no sufficient ground
had been shown in opposition to the motion, and assigned
the cause for hearing and sentence accorffingly.
A considerable discussion. hereupon took place, upon
Dr. Addams praying to be beard upon his petition, to
which Dr. Lushington insisted, and the Condeiegates de-
cided, he had no right. _
Dr. JEN>.ZER, as amicus curia, begged to observe that
the position laid down by Dr. Addams was incorrect.
When a motion was made by a party, and the decision was
against him, he then had a right to be beard on his
petition.
Dr. ADDAMS desired that his application, and the re-
jection of it by the Court, might be taken down by the
Registrar.
This cause will now proceed in the High Court of
Delegates, notwithstanding the Writ of Error in the House
of Lords.

SHERIFF'S COURT, RED LION-SQUARI, MAY 26.
CRLII. CON.
RAWLINGS V. MARSH.

This was an action brought to recover compensation in
damages from the defendant, a surgeon, for criminal con-
versation with the plaintiff's wife.
Mr. C. PHILLIPS was for the plaintiff: he waited a
considerable time in the expectation that Counsel would
appear for the defence, but no one appeared.
Mr. PHILLIPS addressed the Jury. It was not, he said,
his fault that the case was apparently undefended and de-
prived of the skill and ability of a professional man,—that
no attempt was to be made to mitigate, by one shilling, the
damages sought, for the greatest injury which one man
could inflict upon another. By coming into the Sheriff's
Court, the defendant had supplied abundant evidence that
he had inflicted that injury; and submitted himself to
whatever award the Jury should think proper to make in
a case which was incapable of palliation. The extent of
the loss sustained by the unfortunate husband would be
proved by his sister, who had been in the habit of witness.
ing his connubial happiness, ever since the marriage took
place which had been thus violated. Mrs. Rawlings was
the daughter of a gentleman named Williams, who had re-
tired from trade after having realized a fortune of 80,0001.
and resided at Cheltenham ; she was at the time of her
marriage about 20 years of age, and the plaintiff had not ex-
ceeded 26, so that there existed no pretence of disparity in that
respect. He (the Learned Counsel) dial not know how the in-
timacy commenced, but the defendant, having the manners,
appearance, and rank of a gentleman, found no difficulty in
gainia an introduction and an access to the house of the
s-Rmily wliose peace he Lad succeeded in destroying. Whe-
ther those qualities entitled him to impunity upon seducing
the wife,of an honest tradesman, it was for a jury of honest
tradesmen to determine. It was for them to decide whe-
ther they did not estimate the purity of their homes as
highly as those regarded their own honour who were dis-
tinguished by the most elevated situation in life. It was
unnecessary to produce evidence of the marriage. The most
important testimony with which he should trouble the jury,
was a mass of correspondence of no ordinary nature, from
which the criminal act could not but be inferred. The
correspondence certainly contained, as most correspondence
upon subjects of the kind usually did, such a heap of non-
sense, that it was necessary to bespeak the patience of the
jury, however interesting the letters might be to persons of
levity and idleness. One thing they would prove at any
rate,—that his client was quite in the dark during the pro-
gress which the defendant was making in the affections of
his wife. The injunctions to the closest secrecy were fre-
quent and imperative; and there were other circumstances
in the correspondence which showed that there was a great
dread of detection. (The Learned Counsel here read some
quotations from the correspondence which excited much
laughter, and a very eager curiosity for , the produc-
tien of the whole of the written evidence.) It was,
he said, then manifest that the plaintiff was ignorant
of the dishonour meditated against him. It was equally
evident that he was • not a careless, brutal, or im-
moral husband. The letters which were intended to
make the unfortunate woman break her marriage vow
of fidelity, were filled with assurances of the possession
of that very quality in the highest possible degree. Her
seducer had succeeded by such weapons in gaining the
affections of the wife of a man who had regarded her
with love of the purest, affection of the tenderest, and
fidelity of the most sacred kind ; and yet he asked her
whether she doubted his honnar or his love. Whatever
other charms or incantations he had thought necessary to
use, he had calculated upon the effect of poetry in aid of
his designs ; and he accordingly interspersed scraps of
rhyme in his beautiful effusions. From some of those effu.
golfs it was evident that the defendant was apprehensive
that his victim would be separated from him. He pro-
posed flight, but the plaintiff was to learn his disgrace be-
fore she left him. The first intimation he received he
could not credit. After having made some observations
upon the heartlessness of the defendant, the Learned
Counsel declared that the city of London would, on
Tuesday next, witness the public execution of some un-
fortunate men—one of them, perhaps, had stolen a sheep
or a few shillings. How trifling was such an offence com-
pared with that of the spbber of domestic happiness ! Mr.
Phillips then called the following witnesses :--
Mrs. Mary Anne Rodway, the sister of the plaintiff, de-
posed that the plaintiff and his wife had lived upon the best
possible terms. She had frequent opportunities of wit-
nessing their domestic happiness, having often been on a
visit with them for a fortnight together. Her brother
teas about 28 years of age, and his wife was 22, and a
renivkablY fine woman. Her father had retired from
business;
and was possessed of considerable property. Plain-
tiff and his wife seemed to be greatly attached. The wife
always poke the husband in terms of the most enthusi-
astic affection.
Mrs. Deborah On'en, of Duke-street, Stamford-street,
of February the defendant took
deposed, that on the 20th
apartments in her house, anJ introduced the plaintiff's wife
as Mrs. Marsh; and since that period had cohabited with
her as a man with his wife.
" "

John Reed, attorney of Cheltenham, deposed that he
went to the house of the last witness on Friday, and saw
defendant and plaintiff's wife together. When he lamented
to them the circumstance that had taken place, and told
the defendant that there was abundance of evidence against
them in Lis letters, the defendant asked him " what let-
ters 1" Witness showed to him the letters alluded to in the
counsel's speech, which letters he at once admitted to be
his. The defendant was about 28 years of age ; witness
could not say what property he possessed.
The letters fro ,m the defendant, which be had frequently
requested Mrs. Rawlings would burn, but which she used
to place carefully uncle: her pillow every night, were then
read. It was the practice of the defendant to direct them
to different persons, and to address them to the Post-office,
to remain there till called for.
The folio oring are extracts from the defendant's letters :
d My dear, dear Pally,—Since I parted with you my
mini has been dwelling with anxious pleasing anticipation
on this hour (for I fear I shall not be able to see you this
evening), and how it has evinced I am doomed to deplore,
with many others, the total inadequacy of language to
convey to you the feelings which actuate me. I could throw
down my nen as useless; but the delightful conviction
that I am ako.-ding you pleasure impels me to continue.
Did I feel less, ,I should find no difficulty in writing to
you ; but the love which fills my bosom cannot be de..
scribed : it must be felt. Do not think me unreasonable.
lam very very unhappy wh,,:n parted from you. I have
not now the usual consolation of looking forward to this
-
evening, but must pass another who2f, day without you,
and in love's hours there are many days; The hurried
manner in which we last parted has not tended to sooth
.my uneasiness. Oh, my dear Mary ! Never again ask
me, do you love another ? As you can have no other
cause, shall I suppose that your own changing feelings
dictated the question ? No, heaven forbid ; I will not, dare
,not, cannot think so. _ _ .

" Think that the world may quickly end,
" Think that man's heart is oft untrue ;
P Think that the words the dying send
ts oft; heaven may be deceptive too :
But do not think that I can cease to love you. Remember
your declaration that my possession of your love is to be
lasting as life, and i shall not envy monarchs their crowns;
and Oh ! remember the 24 of December, and my dreams.
I shall soon set out for' Cheltenham, through the dear well
known fields. Every spot is hallowed in my thoughts, for
in those fields did I first behold the light of heaven, the
sun of my er.istence. " Ybur adoring devoted,
" J. M.

"Dec. 1826.

"My dearest Polly,—Ysur lociety, has beeogne so ne-
cessary to my happiness, that lC murmur at the slightest
interruption. To be serious, let me at once express my
hope that you are quite well, and let this be the first ques-
tion to which you reply in your answer to this letter.--
Shall I say- to you, my dear girl, as Leges of Ethiopia said
to himself, This day siail be a day of hapPionss?'--:-of
happiness, inasmuch as you will experience a abort relief
from that incessant chatter with whickou have been oyer.
whelmed for these few nights past. scaniot forget your
pathetic exclamation of last night—' I am sure you never
bear me talk very much when with you.' Good faith !--
pi); my love, I leave such brief intervals for lon that you

are quite unable to talk but by snatches and starts. This
shall be remedied, and I will restrain the exuberance of
speech which trenches so much on your female prerogative
—but you will believe me when I say with Othello.—
' Oh, my sweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
In mine own comfort.'

I think I hear you exclaim, ' What a tedious homily have
you wearied your parishioners withal,' and never cried,—
' Have patience, good people ;' but as you told me to say
all I felt and thought, even to the utmost trifle, I trust you
will find some little circumstance to qualify your impatience
at my long narrations. I am very anxious to hear how
you effected your return last night from the garden, whe-
ther without suspicion or no; for I could not but observe
the anxiety, the unusual anxiety, depicted in your expres-
sive countenance, by, what I thought and feared, appre-
hensions of the consequences. Hasten to tell my fears are
groundless, and I shall be happy. Do not misunderstand
me. My fear is for you only. For myself I think not,
when so infinitely superior a motive actuates me. I could
not consider any thing fraught with danger that led me to
your arms. To form and partake the happiness of the
being I adore would make every hazard contemptible,
and rouse and justify the utmost efforts of human resolution.
As Cromwell had, his lucky 3d September and Buonaparte
his 21st of October, so have Imy2d of December. You
will perhaps exclaim at my vanity for placing a nameless
being like myself in the same page with such men. I have
no actions performed on that day to hand down to posterity
as they have, but I will not yield to them in the pleasure
or remembrance my day confers upon me. On that day
was my love stamped with a character it possessed not be-
fore The virtue of love is fidelity. I

promise to be inviolably faithful to you. You are the
sovereign mistress of my affections, and will continue to
command them to the last hour of my existence. Ca-
lumny and unmerited slander first awakened the passion
which now burns in my bosom, and will but serve to pre-
serve it bright and ardent. Adieu—God bless you. Be-
lieve me your affectionate (I will not wound your ears with
the unpleasing name) and devoted soldier, " J. M."

" January 7.

." My dear, dear, dear Polly,—l write perhaps wildly,
my dear girl, and lam sure, hastily—l have stolen away
from expecting friends, to afford myself at least a short
pleasure from heartless unmeaning discourse, for I cannot,
by any worldly cares or pleasures, divest my mind for a
moment of your dear, dear self, Polly, Polly, Polly—
" Thine image only shall my breast employ,
" And fill my captiv'd soul with shades of joy ;
. .

" Direct my dreams by night, my thoughts by day,
" And never, never, from my bosom stray."
I have feared, my love, frequently since last evening, that
you would give me no thanks for conductinc, you such a
ditty walk as I did. The sun shines upon the rest of the
world at this moment, but my sun is withdrawn and I am
in darkness, deprived of the light of Mary's eyes. I shall
never know happiness, indeed, until they shine upon me
constantly. I coukllly to you on the wings of love in a mo-
ment, but they are, I fear, effectually clipped to-night, and
will prevent my indulging in such a delightful excursion•—
I will say not to-night, that means all night, and I am sure
I cannot sleep if I do not at first see at least the house
which contained all I value on earth. I shall have the
consolation of gazing on the room where you will be re-
posing, and perhaps, Oh, blissful thought ! dreaming of
me, for you say, my dear girl, that you always do so.
. . . I conclude, my dear dear love, with Plamdreas'
request to his mistress. Take it to yourself. Continue
to love me by day and by night—want me, dream of me,
expect me, think of me, wish for me, delight in me, be
wholly with me—in short, be my very soul, as lam yours.'
" With renewed assurances of unfading, unalterable
love and affection believe me your own h—d and devoted
right. " J. M. "

" My Dearest Love —This hour is devoted to love
and Mary, I feel that your love is a countetpoise to all
tares and miseries. The greatest misery I feel, the only
one that I have comparatively to complain of, is my separa-
tion from you.

"Parting may be sweet sorrow to some people, my dear
Mary. To me it is sorrow without qualification. ' Love,'
says the poet, ' is the daughter of idleness, but the mother
of disquietude.' To the latter part of the doctrine I wil-
lingly subscribe ; for oh ! what disquietude do I feel at the
thoughts of an absence, however short, according to com-
mon computation, from the idol of my soul—from all my
soul holds dear. The spring is not so welcome to the earth,
the moon to the lark, nor the night to the owl, as the form
of Mary to my eyes—the voice of Mary to my ears : all is
night and darkness when you are from me. The sun rises
not till you approach, and sets not till you depart. Oh!
may the time soon arrive when it will constantly shine
Upon me. Be assured that I am, and ever shall be, your
own affectionate husband and lover, "J. 111."

"Thuraday Evening.

. _
" If you will burn or bring with you my letters, you
will much oblige me, for if confidence be destroyed, I can
surely feel no pleasure but pain, in your retaining them ;
and I can also never find pleasure in the receipt of letters
from so general a correspondent—at least, letters of such a
tenour as the one which I hold in my hand. Oh ! could
I suppose that hypocrisy. lam bewildered."

The next letter is all raptures at some agreeable explana-
tion of what caused his jealousy.

" February 11.
"My dearest Mary,—l have a particular question to put
to you respecting something that was said last night. Why
was the time of six weeks mentioned so particularly by a
certain person as the time during which he had been so
unkindly treated ? Was it to lately as six weeks since that
your kindness to him was manifest? 'lake care of
yourself in every sense of the word. Beware of irritat-
ing by injudicious bickering. Firmness, without exaspe-
rating language, will be every way better. Besides, my
dear love, if he had not power, how could he enrage you.
There is something, also, very unfeminine in constant,
loud, and angry altercation and scuffling. Be careful and
regular in taking your medicine. Remember that, with
your own, you have my health in care, and be proportiona-
bly attentive. The health and happiness of three depend
upon you. I shall be miserable my dearest love, till I
bear from you, and that you are ' as well as can be ex-
pected.' This old hacknied phrase,- which I have fre-
quently smiled at almost with contempt, I now smile at
with the greatest pleasure.
" My dear Girl.—Years of pleasure could not atone for
the unutterable misery I endured this morning on beholding
your cruel father ... Being your father, I could not assault
him. As for the other I hold him undeserving of a
thought ; nor could I, professing a spark of proper feeling,
do snore than defend myself against his puny attack. I say,
without boasting, that it will be well for him henceforth
studiously to avoid me.—Your affectionate and attached, but
wretched - " J. M."

The last of the letters of the defendant to the plaintiff's
wife contains the following:—
" I dare not ask how yesterday evening passed off. It
was unavoidable; but the knowledge that you even slept
in the house after the scene of yesterday morning is ago-
nizing to me. The event of yesterday has rendered my
longer dwelling here totally impossible. Every hour may
bring my departure : therefore urge forward some place
that may remove you from your present abode, or throw
you into my arms for ever. You will pardon me, my
love, for saying, that I think you do not, and have not,
sufficiently pressed forward the negociations for separation.
I implore you, at any rate, to see me speedily. I have a
thousand things to say, and may be gone far from you be-
fore I have an opportunity. And what will then by my
fate? Madness or death.

The defendant, after the desired interview, came up to
town in the Berkeley Hunt coach, under the name of
Roberts, and was speedily followed by the unfortunate
woman.

The Under-Sheriff briefly recapitulated the evidence,
and the jury, after two hours' deliberation, assessed the
damages at 7001.
Many stories are told of the hair-breadth escapes which
the defendant had, during his stolen visits to the house of the
plaintiff: one deserves to be noticed. Some time after the
defendant became criminally intimate with Mrs. Rawlings,
she absented herself from her husband's bed on pretence of
indisposition, and took the servant girl to sleep with her.
One evening the husband entered his wife's room to ask
after her health. He approached the bed, and laid his hand,
as he thought, upon the shoulder of the servant-maid. His
wife reproached him for the indelicacy, and insisted on his
leaving the room. He did so ; but he met the servant-girl
on the stairs. He returned, in order to punish his disho-
nour, but was too late to prevent a leap out of the window.

On Friday week the child of a man named
Vincent, w.llO resides near Redruth, was bitten
by an adder on the upper lip whilst playing in a
41eld, The reptile sprang at her from a hedge,
and coiled itself 'about her head ; as soon as it
had inflicted the wound it fled and .escaped.
The child's head and neck soon swelled to an
enormous size ; and though she was alive on
Wednesday, there was but little hope of her re-
coverY.--risymouth Journal.