The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1838-11-27 00:00:00

had constructed to protect him from the influence of the
weather. The gentleman called him to reach him the book
off the road, and he came, and in the act of handing it to the
owner his old hat fell off, and a breeze of wind which passed
at the moment, scattered his long grey locks, and discovered
at once that be wanted the left ear. The gentleman was im-
mediately convinced that it was lianrahan, and he asked
him " Where he was from?"
" From the county of ," replied the man.

"What is 'sour name?"
" Bernard Hanrahan."
"Bv h ! Barney Hanrahan, the murderer of Wil-
liam Magrath?"
" Exactly so."
" 1)o you know me?"
"I think I do."
"Who am I?"
"Are yon not Mr. G , from
"1 am the man."
_ _

"And Mr. G , honey. how is every bit of You and
yours?" said Hanrahan, itursting into a passiomite tit of
weeping.
The gentleman did not answer.; he nut his band into his
coat, and drawing forth a loaded pistol, he exclaimed, " H a n
rahan, as a Magistrate, and particularly as a Magistrate for
the county where you committed the crime—One of the foul-
est on record—the perpetration of which forfeits your life to
the laws of your country, I command you to submit yourself
a prisoner, and if you make any resistance, the contents of
this pistol puts an end to your guilty life. I ant sorry that
in duty compels me to act in this manner; but I would be
renouncing both faith, and honour, and justice, were I to
act otherwise."
" Never fear, sir," sobbed Hanrahan; " I would not wish
to injure you, even if I had the power ; but I am quite will-
in, to submit to you, and I am sorry that I neglected so long
to deliver myself into the bands of justice."
" Very well, Hanrahan," returned the Gentleman, "it
appears you are sorry for your misdeeds, and indeed you
have cause; but remember that any disclosures you make to
me will not nor cannot criminate you ; I believe there is no
positive proof of your Suspicion is all that is for it ;
therefore, although there can be no moral doubt as to your
being the murderer, there is, I believe, a legal on. andyou
ate still entitled to the benefit of it." . .

"Thank you, Sir," replied Hanrahan ; " but 1 am resolved
to acknowledg my crime before the world. I wish to die for
it, and I am impatient for the arrival of the moment which
is to ease my mind of the dreadful weight with which it is
oppressed."
The Magistrate now procured a piece of cord, and pinion-
ing the arms of his prisoner, placed him beside him on the
jaunting-car, and resumed his journey to the next town. He
n'iw had leisure to survey Han rahan's person and appearance
minutely; and he shuddered at the wotul change he had un-
dergone since he last saw him. Ile was, at that period, a
fine athletic, blooming young fellow, of about 25 years of
age, with rosy cheeks, and dark auburn hair playing in natu-
ral rin.dets over his high and smooth forehead. He was, be-
sides, the best hurler, ball-player, and wrestler in the parish,
and the smartest and gayest drest man of his rank at every
assembly. But now how wofully, how sadly altered! His
form was stooped, as if from extreme old age ; his face was
furrowed with a thousand wrinkles, and his hair, which he
suffered to grow to conceal the loss of his ear, fell in hoary
and matted locks about his woe-begone cheeks. His voice 1% as
tremulous and faint, and his step slow. irregular, and nervous.
Such were the effects which want and wandering, and above
all, the eternal gnawing of a guilty conscience, had wrought
on this hapless man. Thus it ever is with the wretched
murderer—sleeping or waking he knows no rest. Remorse
makes him her constant prey.

" Remorse—she ne'er forsakes him ;
A blood-hound staunch, she tracks his weary way

With her deep-mouthed bay, surmounting all
Of wrath and woe, and punishment that hides him."

" Hanrahan," said the Gentleman, " where have e'ou been
ever since the fatal night that you murdered Magrath ?"
Hanrahan gave a loud sigh, and began—" After commit-
ting the foul deed, I and my comrade (who was a cousin-
german of mine from the county of Kilkenny) made our
escape to Galway, were we embarked for America, and
landed there after a short favourable passage. Here we parted,
and I never saw him after ; but I heard that he fell a victim
to the yellow fever shortly after our separation. I fell into
employment, and thought I would soon forget the cause which
compelled me to quit my native home, to seek refuge in the
land of the stranger; but it was impossible. One moment's
rest I never enjoyed since, except the momentary relief I
found from indulging to excess in intoxicating liquors.
When happened to slumber a moment, the murdered Ma-
grath was ever in my dreams ; and when awake, and even
in the light of noonday, I ever saw him bloody and mangled
before me with a threatening aspect. If I looked forward,
he was staring me in the face; if I looked hack, he was dog-
ging my footsteps; if I looked to heaven, his bleeding phan-
tom seemed to obscure the light of the sun or moon; and
even when sailing on the broad ocean, I fancied its waves
were dyed with his blood. Thus my life was a hell to me;
and I several times thought to put a period to my sufferings
by suicide. At last 1 came to the resolution of retui lung
home, and surrendering myself to the law. With this ie-so-
lution I embarked about four years ago, and landed at Cork
in safety. I there .thought to proceed immediately to my
native county, and give myself up to you, sir; but the dread
of the gallows overcame my resolutions. I bent my way
down to Connaught, and have remained here ever since.
Perhaps I might remain here some time longer, but I feel
that 1 would never be easy until I would die for my crime.
1 am now happier in my mind than I have been these twenty
year; and, as 1 said before, I long for the hour which is to
witness my departure from this miserable life."
Mr. G— was deeply affected at this sad recital. They
soon arrived at the neighbouring town, and stopped there
that night. In the morning the criminal was sent under a
strong escort to the next military station. From that to the
next, and so on until he arrived at the assize town of his na-
tive county. Here he was lodged in " durance vile," and
remained so until the ensuing assizes, when he came on trial.
lie pleaded guilty of the crime; and said that he had no
motive for committing the horrid deed, but jealousy and
hatred to Magrath for disappointing him in his designs on
Margaret Shehan. Ou the day appointed he was brought to
the scaffold; his conduct was that of a sincere penitent. Ile
forgave the world, implored pardon for his many crimes, and
exhorted the spectators to beware of late hours, intemper-
ance, and bad company. Ile died calmly, amid the sighs
and compassion of the thousands who assembled to wdness
his exit from this fleeting and wicked world.
The foregoing story is literally true ; some of the circum-
stances related certainly wear an air of romance and impro-
bability; but, nevertheless, it can be fully- authenticated. I
am acquainted with several who can bear testimony to the
truth of every particular I have stated.

NOVEL COURSING.—On Monday morning last, whilst a
number of men were at work in a large field o❑ Cog Farm,
near Cardiff, a fine hare made its appearance, pursued by a
large (log fox ; and su intent was the latter upon its prey, that
it heeded not the shouting that ensued to scare him otE The
hare was frequently turned by her crafty enemy, and her
escape seemed highly problematical; but Sir John Guest's
gamekeeper coining up at the time, he decided it in favour of
pour puss, by the unerring aim with which he lodged the con-
tents of his Joe Manton into her pursuer.

LADY NEWBOHOUGH.—PARIS' Nov. 16.—A work was
first published in 1829, by' Lady Newborough, widow of the
second Lord Newborough, an Irish peer, and mother of the
late and of the present Lords Newborough, under the title of
Maria Stella. In that work Lady N. is stated to be the
daughter of the late Duke and Duchess of Orleans; and
that the present King of the French, born at the same time,
is the son of the then jailer of Faenza. This brochure has
lately re-appeared in print (a second and third edition), and
has been sold publicly and with impunity. In the course of
last month, however, there appeared a very long account of
it in the Augsburg Gazette, sent thither (it is said, or surmised)
from St Petersburg. This circumstance appears to have
awakenetl the attention of thegovernment to the matter; for
yesterday morning Lady Newborough received an order
signed by the Minister of the Interior (Count Montalivet),
directing that (" her presence here being calculated to dis-
turb the public peace") Lady Newborough, " tine Anglaise,"
quit Paris within four and France within eight days. Some
hesitation appears to have been felt by the government on
the subject ; for the order, although only " served" yesterday,
the 151 h, was dated the Bth inst. Lady Newborough is, ne-
cessarily, being the same age as King Louis Philip—ad-
vanced in life and somewhat infirm. An application has
been made or will be made in consequence to obtain a post-
ponement of the date at which she is required to withdraw.
Whether that be granted or not, she means to plead that she
is not "English," as the order states—but "French." Here
the matter rests for the present. That her ladyship will
make all legal opposition to the decree is certain; lint the
case of the Duke of Brunswick (and many others) shows
that, when in earnest about such matters, the French go-
vernment is peremptory.—Morning paper.
A FoitruNATE BAtiiilSTEis.—There are always a consider-
able number of attorneys and barristers in the Queen's bench
prison. 1 need scarcely say, that in the great majority of
cases the attorneys were without practice, and the barristers
briefless, before their entrance. Sonic of the former, how-
ever, manage to raise a tolerable business within the walls
of the prison. Strange as it may appear, it does so happen
that persons have to date their prosperity in life to their
incarceration in the Queen's bench. One remarkable in-
stance consists with my personal knowledge. The party was
a barrister, but had never in his life had a single brief in his
bag. lam not sure, indeed, having no use tor it, whether
he had a bag at all. Ile was sent to vegetate for ten or
twelve months in the bench. While there, he contracted an
intimacy with one of the prisoners, of some station in so-
ciety, and of considerable wealth; though, through some
illegal proceeding, temporaily deprived of it. The case was
laid before the briefless barrister ; and, having abundant
time on his hands, he made himself completely master of it
in all its bearings. On his liberation, he undertook to bring
it before the proper tribunal, making his remuneration en-
tirely dependent on his success: the party was liberated, and
he amply rewarded for his trouble. But the remuneration he
received was but a very subordinate portion of the benefit he
derived from the case. Possessed of very respectable natural
talents, and knowing the case so thoroughly, he made so
creditable a professional appearance in the court, that briefs,
from that time, poured in on him in copious abundance.
This was the tide in his affairs of which Shakspeare speaks :
he wisely took it at the flood, and led it on to fame ar.d for-
tune.—Sketches in London, by the Author of " The Great
Metropolis."
NEGHO DUEL..—A duel between darkies, (says the New
Orleans Picayune,)—a regular-built affair, conducted accor-
ding to the most strict and punctilious provisions of the code
of honour,—came off one morning last week. The fight took
place with pistols of the most approved fashion, at sunrise,
on a small branch of the Metairie road. We do not know
what the origin of the difficulty was, except that one of the
parties, to use the phrase of tine of the spectators, " was
crossed in lub by de oder, and dat him hona mus hab satis-
facshun." We have learned, from one who was present at
the combat, the particulars as they transpired. They were
substantially as follow :—" After having taken their stand,
one of the seconds noticed, that, owing to their positions, the
sunbeams set his principal a-winking and rolling his eves.
This was a sufficient ground for interfering; and he called
out to the other second with I say, nigga, I puts my veto
on dat posishun. agin de rules oh all de codes tit; hona
I'be eber seen. De Erection oh de sun shines ratter too
sebere, and make my principal roll him eye altogeder
too much.'--` Wy, wy, look here, didn't we chuck up
dollar for choice ob de ground, and didn't I get hint
myself ?'—` Yes, I knows you did; but den fair play's a juba,
and Ise no notion ob seeing my fren composed upon and lose
all de adwantage.'—` Well, nigga, Ise no notion too; Ise just
as good a right to hab no notion as you is, and I 'sists on
settlin the matter just as we is—and—' At this juncture, a
friendly cloud settled the matter at once by stepping in be-
tween the sun and the belligerents. The two first causes
again took their positions, and, all the little preliminaries
being settled, each one took his pistol ready cocked from his
second. Both manifested a tolerable degree of spunk, al-
though a bluish paleness spread itself over their black checks.
The second, who was to give out the fatal order which might
send them out of this world, now took his ground. Raising his
voice, he began—' Gentlemen, your tune am cum,'—Both
signified their assent.—' Is you ready ? Flah! one two tree.'
Bang, pop, went both pistols at once, one ball raising a dust in
the middle of the road, while the other took a ‘slantindicklar'
"c: the bystanders, fortunately without hitting:
any s now tune to interpose; and one of the courose aeit: apto wn,
se-
conds set himself about it. After a little conversation, the
challenged darky stepped forward, and said to his antagonist,
Nig,ga, is you satisfied ?'—` So is 1, and Ise glad to
;et off so. Next time dey catches dis nigga out on sich a
foolish exhibition as dis, dey'll hab to hitch me, dat dey will
for sartin.'—‘ Dem's my sentiments ezackly,' retorted the
other. When your onmortal instrument of def whent off
I declar I thought I was gone child ; hut Ise so happy now;
—gosh, let's shake hands, and go hack to our abocations.'
* * In live minutes' time, all hands—enemies, friends,
darkies, whites, and all—were on the road home to work,
perfectly satisfied with the sports of the morning."