The Sun. — 1844-05-24 (London, England)

THE CASE OF MARY FURLEY.  Sir James Graham has earned an undying reputation by his conduct in the case of this broken-hearted woman. In the first place, although she was sentenced to death by the honey-tongued Mamie, Sir James Graham knew nothing whatever of the matter. No ; when questioned by the House upon the atrocity of the sentence, aggravated as it was by the funeral eloquence of the judge, who doubtless, to teach a great moral lesson, tortured the woman with Tyburn tropes ; even the Home Secretary knew nothing of the circumstances which had sent a shudderin-, horror through the heart of the kingdom. He would, however, inquire about Mary Farley. A week or so passes, and the country is astounded, horrified at the further barbarity exercised upon the sufferer, who is frenzied, agonized by the official visit of the sheriff, come with the death-warrant from the Home-office. There is no hope for her! She has, it is true, been driven to madness by accumulated miseries which beggar fiction : she has been tortured into an act of insanity by the cruelty of fortune ; it is no matter, says the philosopher at the Homeoffice—she must die. The woman must be hanged! For some four-and-twenty hours the doomed creature suffers agony unutterable. Sir James Graham, doubtless, sleeps sweetly in his bed—yes, enjoys that sweet, deep slumber, rewardful of solemn duties solemnly fulfilled. Then, rising, he bethinks himself of the poor wretch in Newgate ; the fact is, he is made to think of her by the earnest faces and loud remonstrances of a few Samaritans who beset the Home-office. He is entreated to reconsider the sentence, and the result is—a reprieve for Mary Furley. No extenuating circumstance has been discovered—none whatever. The case remains as it was when Judge Maule—whose eloquence might fire even the Temple—denounced • the forlorn offender from the judgment-seat ; just . as it was, wLeti Sir James Graham sent down the death-warrant ; but the public heart has revolted at the contemplated atrocity—the official murder threatened by the Home-office—and the Minister relents ; yes, the woman shall be reprieved ! She has been upon the rack for four-and-twenty hours ; but what is such amount of torment, more or less, to one who has already suffered so much ? What, another stab of the heart, to a heart so sorely maimed and bleeding ? Then appear in the newspapers comforting paragraphs, indicative of the new tenderness of Sir James Graham. Yes, think we, Sir James has now fully considered Mary Furley's condition. Poor blighted creature! He has followed her through her miserable history—has sympathised with her wretchedness in the union, when her sick child was cut and maimed by the union's drunken servant—has glowed with admiration of her, when, with her heroic woman's heart, she again faced the misery of an unpitying world—has sorrowed with her at the failing of her last hope, the few' shillings, stolen or lost, that were to have given her and her babe the means of life—has felt, to painful intensity, a grief and sympathy, when, with a brain fired with despair, the frantic mother sought a grave for herself and child. Yes—thought we —the good, soft-hearted Sir James has pondered on the history, so complete in all its terrors, of Mary Furley, and he will recommend the woman to the Royal mercy. A few days. a week or two perhaps, may be the term of her imprisonment in the Penitentiary ; and then she will return to the world, to enjoy the active sympathies even-of the highest-born of her own sex, who will gather about her, and with Samaritan goodness strive to heal the wounds inflicted by undeserved wretchedness upon her. She will be pitied, comforted, ay, caressed, for the horrors she has endured, and, by the bounty of sympathising goodness, the means of subsistence will henceforth be made easy to her. Such was our day-dream. Sir James Graham has recommended Mary Furley to the Royal mercy, and the result is—transportation for seven years! " Such is the breath" of Home Secretaries! The Royal mercy was wont, by a figure of speech, to be called the brightest jewel in the Crown. If it still be so, why then, Sir James, thanks to you, her Majesty Queen Victor wears at the present moment the dimmest of diadems.— Punch.