Crawfordsville Review, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 6 February 1858 — Page 1

THE EXPEBIENCES

,5

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.

Bt fTAaUKS WABMZB, ESQ.,

Ot

Jierccived

TIIE IXNEB TEJtPLE.

In the sccond year of my connection with tho Northern Circuit, when even junior briefs were much less numerous than acceptable, I was agreeably surprised, as Hat musing on the evening of my arrival in the ancient city of York upon the capricious jnode in which those powerful personages the attorneys distributed their valuable favors, by the entranec of one of the inost eminent of the race practising in that part of tho country, and the forthwith tender of a bulky brief in the Crown Court, on which, as my glance instinctively fell on the interesting figures, I perceived that the large fee, in criminal cases, of fifty guineas was marked. The local newspapers, from which I had occasionally seen extracts, had been for some time busy with the case and I knew it therefore to be, relatively to the condition in life of the principal person implicated, an important one. Rumor had assigned the conduct of the defence to an eminent leader on the circuit—since, one of our ablest judges and on looking more closely at the brief, I

that the gentleman's name bad

»ecn crossed out, and mine substituted.— The fee—a much less agreeable alteration had been, I saw, considerably reduced in accordance, doubtless, with the attorney's appreciation of the difference of value bctwecu a silk and a stuff gown. "You arc not, sir,JI believe, retained for the prosecution in the crown against Everett?" said Mr. »Sliarpe in his brief, business manner. "I am not, Mr. Sharpe." "In that case, I beg to tender you the leading brief for the defence. It was intended, as you perceive, to place it in tlu hands of our great nisi prius leader, hut he •wiil be so completely occupied in that court that he has been compelled to decline it.— JIe mentioned you and from what have inyRclf nercn of you in several cases, I have *io doubt my unfortunate client will have ample justice done him. Mr. Kingston will •be with you."

I thanked Mr. Sharpe for his compliment mid accepted his brief. As the commission would be opened on the following morning, 1 at once applied myself to the /perusal of the bulky paper, aided as I read hy the verbal explanations and commentaries of Mr. Sharpe. Our conference last-' •ed several hours and it was arranged that ainotber should be held early the next morning at Mr. Sharpe's office, at which Mr. •.Kingston would assist.

Dark, intricate, compassed with fearful mystery, was the case so suddenly submitted t« my guidance and the lew faint gleams of'light derived from the attorney's .research, prescience, and sagacity, served Jiut to render dimly visible a still profoundand blacker abyss ol' crimo than that disclosed by the evidence for the crown.—

Young H.i I then was iu the profession, no ••marvel that I felt oppressed by the weight «.{' the responsibility cast upon me or that, when wearied with thinking, and dizity with prolitless conjecture, I threw my •VeIf into bed, perplexing images and shapes of guilt and terror pursued me through my

:lnub]cd

sleep! Happily the next day

was not that of trial for 1 awoke with a '•'•throbbing pulse and burning brain, and should have been but poorly prepared for :i struggle involving the issues of life and death. Extremely sensitive, as, under the circumstances, I must necessarily have been, to the arduous nature of the grave duties so unexpectedly devolved upon me, the following resume of the chief incidents of the case, as confided to me bv Mr. Sharpe will, I think, fully account to the reader for the nervous irritability under which I for the moment labored

Mr. Frederick Everett, the prisoner about to be arraigned before a jury of his countrymen for the frightful crime of murder, had, with his father, Captaiu Anthony Everett, resided for several years past at AYoodlands Manor-llousc, the seat of Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh, a rich, elderly maiden lady, aunt to the first-, and sister by marriage to the last-named gentleman. A generous, pious, high-minded person Mrs. Fitzhugh was represented to have been, but extremely sensitive withal on the score of "family." The Fitzhughs of Yorkshire, she was wont to boast, "came in with the Conqueror and any branch of the glorious tree then firmly planted in tho soil of England that degraded itself by an alliance with wealth, beauty, or worth, dwelling without the pale of her narrow prejudices was iuexorably cut ofF from her affections, and, as far as she was able, from her memory. One—the principal of these offenders—had been Mary Fitzhugh, her young, fair, gentle, and only sister. In utter disdain and slight of the dignity of ancestry, fihe had chosen to unite herself to a gentleman of the name of Mordaunt, who, though possessed of great talents, an unspotted name, and, for his age, high rank in the civil service of the East India Company, had—inexpiable misfortune—a trader for his grandfather! This crime against her "house" Mrs, Eleanor Fitzhugh resolved never to forgive and she steadily returned, unopened, the frequent letters addressed to her by her sister, who pined in her distant Indian home for a reuewal of the old sisterly love which had watched over and gladdened her life from infancy to womauhood. Along silence—a silcnce of many years—succeeded broken at last by the sad announcement that the unforgiven one had long since found an early grave in a foreign land. The letter which brought the intelligence bore the London post-mark, and was written by Captain Everett, to whom, it was stated, Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh *8 sister, in early widowhood, had been united in sccond nuptials, and by whom she had borno a son, Frederick Everett, now nearly twenty years of age. The long-pent-up affection of Mrs. .Fitx•hugh for ner onoe idolized sister burst forth at this announcement of her death with uncontrollable violence and, as some atonement for her past sinful obduracy, she immediately invited the' husband and •on of her long-lost Mary to Woodlands Manor-House, to be henceforth, she said,

she hoped their home. Soon after their arrival, Mrs. Fitzhugh made a will—the family property was entirely at her disposal—revoking a former one, which bequeathed the whole of the real and person al property to a distant relative whom she had never seen and by which all was de vised to her nephew, who was immediate ly proclaimed sole heir to the Fitzhugh es tates, yielding a yearly rental of at least £12,000. Nay, so thoroughly was she softened towards the memory of her de ccased sister, that the will—of which, as I have stated, no secret was made—provided, in the exent of Frederick dying childless, that the property should pass to his father, Mary Fitzhugh's second husband

No two persons could be more unlike than were the father and son—mentally, morally, physically. Frederick Everett was a fair-haired, blue-eyed young man, of amiable, caressing manners, gentle disposition, and ardent, poetic temperament. His father, on the contrary, was a darkfeatured, cold, haughty, repulsive man ever apparently wrapped up in selfish and moody reveries. Between him and liis son there appeared to exist but little of cordial intercourse, although the highly-sen-sitive and religious tone of Frederick Everett causcd him to treat her parent with unvarying dcfercuce and respect

The poetic temperament of Frederick Everett brought him at last, as poetic tern peraments are apt to do, into trouble.— Youth, beauty, innocence, and grace united in the person of Lucy Carrington—the only child of Mr. Stephen Carrington, rcspcctablc retired merchant of moderate means, residing within a few miles of Woodlands Manor-House—crossed his path and spite of his shield of many quarterings, he was vanquished in an instant, and almost without resistance. The at least tacit consent and approval of Mr. Carrington and his fair daughter secured, Mr. Everett, jr. hasty, headstrong lover that ho was— immediate^ disclosed his matrimonial projects to his father and aunt. Captain Everett received the announcement with sarcastic smile, coldly remarking, that if Mrs. Fitzhugh was satisfied, he had no objection to oll'cr. But, alas no sooner did her nephew, with much periphrastic eloquence, impart his passion for the daughter of a mere merchant to his aunt, than a vehement torrent of indignant rebuke broke from her lips. She would die rather than consent to so degrading a mesalliance and should lie persist in yielding to such gross nfatuation, she would not only disinherit, but banish him her house, and cast hiiu forth a beggar on the world. Language like this, one can easily understand, prooked language from tho indignant young man which in less heated moments he wo'd have disdained to utter and the aunt and nephew wartcd iu fierce anger, and after mutual denunciation of each other—lie as a disobedient ingrati), sh-i as an imperious, ungenerous tyrant. The quarrel was with some difficulty patched up by Captain Everett, and with the exception of the change which took place in the disappointed lover's demeanor—from light-hearted gaiety to gloom and sullenness—things, after a few days, went on pretty nearly as they had before.

The sudden rupture of the hopes Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh had reposed in her nephew as the restorer of the glories of her ancieut "house," tarnished by Mary Fitzhugh's marriage, affected dangerous^', it soon appeared, that lady's already failing health. A fortnight after the quarrel with her ncpliow, she became alarmingly ill.— Unusual and baffling symptoms showed, themselves, and after suffering during eight days from alternate acute pain, and heavy, unconquerable drowsiness, she expired in her nephew's anus. This sudden and fatal illness or his relative appeared to reawaken all Frederick Everett's tenderness and affection for her. He was incesseut in his close attendance in the sick-chamber, permitting no one elso to administer to his aunt either aliment or medicine. On this latter point, he insisted, with strange fierceness, taking the medicine with his own liand from the man who brought it and after administering the prescribed quantity, carefully locking up the remainder in a cabinet iu his bed-room.

On the morning of the day th'at Mrs. Fitzhugh died, lier ordinary medical attendant, Mr. Smith, terrified and perplexed by the urgency of the symptoms exhibited by his patient, called in the aid of a local-ly-eminent- physician, Dr. Archer, or Archford—the name is not very distinctly written in my memoranda of these occurrences but we will call him Archer—who at once changed the treatment till then pursued, and ordered powerful emctice to be administered, without, however, as we have seen, producing any sensible or saving effect. The grief of Frederick Everett, when all hope was over, was unbounded. He threw himself, iu a paroxysm of remorse and frenzy, upon the bed, accusing himself of having murdered her, with other strange and incoherent expressions, upon which an intimation soon afterwards made by Dr. Archer threw startling light. That gentleman, conjointly with Mr. Smith, requested an immediate interview with Captain Everett and Mr. Hardyman, the deceased lady's land-stewart and solicitor, who happened to be in the house at the time. The request was of course complied with, and Dr. Archer at once bluntly stated that, in his opinion, poison had been administered to the deceased lady, though of what precise kind he was somewhat at a loss to conjecture—opium essentially, he thought, though certainly not in any of its ordinary preparations—one of the alkaloids probably which chemical science had recently discovered. Be this as it may, a post-mortem examination of the body would clear up all doubts, and should take place as speedily as possible. Captain Everett at once acceded to Dr. Archer's proposal, at the same time observing that he was quite sure the result would entirely disprove that gentleman's assumption. Mr. Hardyman also fully concurred in the necessity of a rigid investigation and the post-mortem examination should, it was arranged, take place early on the following morning. "I have another very painful duty to perform," continued Dr. Archer, addressing Captain Everett. "I find that your son, Mr. Frederick Everett, alone admin-

istered medicine and aliment to Mrs. Fitz hugh during her illness. Strange, possibly wholly frenzied expressions, but which sounded vastly like cries of remorse, irrepressible by a person unused to crime, escaped him in my hearing, just after the close of the final scene and but perhaps, Captain Everett, you had better retire this is scarcely a subject "Go on, sir," said the captain, over whose countenance a strange expression—to use Dr. Archer's own words—had flashed "go on I am better now." "We all know," resumed Dr. Archer, "how greatly Mr. Frederick Everett gains in wealth by his aunt's death and that her decease, moreover, will enable him to conclude the marriage to which she was so determinedly opposed. I think therefore that, under all the circumstances, we shall be fully justified in placing the young gentleman under such—I will not say custody, but surveillance, as will prevent him either from leaving the house, should he imagine himself suspected, or of destroying °any evidence which may possibly exist of his guilt, if indeed he be guilty." "I entirely agree with you, Dr. Archer," exclaimed Mr. Hardyman, who had listened with much excitment to the doctor's narrative "and will, upon my own csponsibility, take the necessary steps for effecting the object you have in view.' "Gentlemen, said Captain Everett, rising from his chair, "you will of course do joui duty but I can take no part, nor offer any counsel, in such a case I must leave you to your own devices." He then left the apartment.

He had been gone but a few minutes, when Frederick Everett, still in a state of vcrrible excitement, entered the room, strode fiercely up to Dr. Archer, and demanded how he dared propose, as the butler had just informed him he had done, a dissection of his aunt's body. "I will not permit it," continued the agitated young man "I am master here, and I say it shall not be done. What new horror would you evoke? Is it not enough that one of the kindest, best of God's creatures' has perished, but another sacrifice

must

What do I say Enough that

I will not permit it. I have seen similar cases-—very simDar cases in—m India!" The gentleman so strangely addressed had exchanged significant glances during the delivery of this incoherent speech and, quite confirmed in their previous imssion, Mr. Hardyman, as their spokes-

prcssiou man, interrupted the speaker, to in.orni him that he was the suspected assassin of his aunt! The accusing sentence had hardly passed the solicitor's lips, when the furious young man sprung towards him with the"bound of a tiger, and at one blow prostrated him on the floor. lie way i.mmediatcly seized by the two medical gentlemen, and help having been summoned, he was with much difficulty secured, and placed in strict confinement, to await the rjsuit of the next day's inquiry.

The examination of the body disclosed the terrible fact, that the deceased lady had perished by acetate of morphine thus verifying the sagacious guess ot Dr. Arcuer. A minute search was immediately made throughout Mr. Frederick Everett's ipartments, and behind one of the drawers of a cabinet in his bedroom—at tnc back of the shelf or partition upon whieh the drawer rested, and of course completely hidden bv the drawer itscll when in its place—was found aflat tin flask, fluted on the outside, aud closed with a screw stopper it was loosely enveloped in a sheet of brown paper, directed j^verett Esq., Woodlands Manor-House Yorkshire and upon close examination, a small quantity of white powder, which proved t.o be acctate of morphine, was found in the flask. Suspicion of young Everett's guilt now became conviction and, as if to confirm beyond all doubt, the soundness of the chain of circumstantial evidence in whicu he was immeshed, the butler, John Darby, an aged and trusty servant of the late Mrs. Fitzhugh, made on the next day the following deposition before the magistrates "He had taken in two days before his late mistress was seized with her fatal illness, a small brown paper parcel which had been brought by the coach from London, and for which '2s. lOd. carriage was charged and paid. The paper found in hiederick Everett's cabinet was, he could positively swear, from the date aud figures marked on it, and the handwriting, the paper wrapper of that parceL He had given it to young Mr. Everett, who happened to be iu the library at the time. About five minutes afterwards, he had occasion to return to the library, to inform him that some fishing-tackle he had ordered was sent home. The door was ajar and Mr. Frederick did not at first perceive his entrance, as he was standing with his back to the door. The paper parcel he, the butler had just before delivered was lying open on the table, and Mr. Everett held in one hand a flat tin flask—the witness had no doubt the same found in the cabinet —and in the other anote, which he was read-

He, the witness, coughed, to attract Mr. Everett's attention, who hurriedly turned round, clapped down the flask and the note, shuffling them under the paper wrapper, as if to conceal them, and then, in a very confused manner, and his face as red as flame, asked the witness what he wanted there Witness thought this behaviour very strange at the time but the incident soon passed from his mind, and he had thought no more of it till the finding of the paper and flask as described by the other witnesses."

Mr. Frederick Everett, who had manifested the strangest impassability, a calmness as of despair, throughout the inquiry, which perplexed and disheartened Mr. Sharpe, whose services had been retained by Captain Everett, allowed even this mischievous evidence to pass without a word of comment or explanation and he was, as a matter of course, full committed for the wilful murder of his relative. The chain of circumstantial evidence, motive included, was, it was felt, complete—not a link was wanting.

These were the chief incidents disclosed to me by Mr. Sharpe during our long and painful consultation. Of the precise nature of the terrible suspicions which haunted and disturbed me, I shall only in this place say that neither Mr. Sharpe,

NEW SERIES--VOL. IX, WO. 29. CRAWFORDSYILLE, MONTGOMERY COUNTY, INDIANA FEBRUARY 6, 1858. -WHOLE NUMBER 809.

nor, consequently, myself, would in all probability have guessed or glanced at them, but for the persistent assertions of Miss Carrington, that her lover was madly sacrificing himself from some chimerical motive of honor or duty. "You do not know, Mr. Sharpe, as I do," she would frequently exclaim with fearful vehemence, "the generous, childlike simplicity, the chivalrie enthusiasm, of his character, his utter abnegation of self, and readiness on all occasions to sac rifice his own ease, his own wishes, to forward the happiness of others and above all, his fantastic notions of honor—duty, if you will—which would, I feel assured, prompt him to incur any peril, death itself, to shield from danger any one who had claims upon him either of blood or of affection. You know to whom my suspicions point and how dreadful to think that one so young, so brave, so pious, and so true, should be sacrificed for such a monster as I believe that man to be

To all these passionate expostulations the attorney could only reply that vague suspicions were not judicial proofs and that if Mr. Frederick Everett would persist in his obstinate reserve, a fatal result was inevitable. But Mr. Sharpe readily consented to gratify the wishes of Mr. Carrington and his daughter on one point: he returned the money, nor a very large sum, which Captain Everett had sent him, and agreed that Mr. Carrington should supply the funds necessary for the defence of the prisoner.

Our consultation the next day at Mr. Sharpe's was a sad and hopeless one.— Nowhere did a gleam of cheerful light break in. The ease was overwhelmingly complete against the prisoner. The vague suspicions we entertained pointed to a crime so monstrous, so incredible, that we felt it could not be so much as hinted at upon such, legally considered, slight grounds. The prisoner was said to be an eloquent speaker, and I undertook to draw up the outline of a defence, impugning, with all the dialectic skill I was master of, the conclusiveness of the evidence for the crown. To this, and a host of testimony to character which we proposed to call, rested our faint hopes of a "good deliverance

Business was over, and we were taking a glass of wine with Mr. Sharpe, when his chief clerk eutored to say that Sergeant Edwards, an old soldier—who [had spokcu to them some time before relative to a large claim which lie asserted he had against Captain Everett, arising out of a legacy bequeathed to him in India, and the best mode of assuring its payment by an annuitj-, as proposed by the captain—had now called to say that the terms were at last finally arranged, and that he wished to know when Mr. Sharpe would be at loisurc to drawn up the boud. "He .need not fear for his money!" exclaimed Sharpe tertly "the captain will, I fear, be rich enough before another week has passed over our heads. Tell him to call to-mor-row evening I wiii sec him after I return from court." A few minutes afterwards, I and Mr. Kingston took our leave.

The Crown Court was thronged to suffocation on the following morning, and the excitement of the auditory appeared to be of the intensest kind. Miss Carrington, closely veiled, sat beside her father on one of the side-benches. A true bill against the prisoner had been found on the previous afternoon and the trial, it had been arranged, to tit the convenience of counsel, should be first proceeded with.— The court was presided over by Justice Grose and Mr. Gurney—afterwards Mr. Baron Gurney—with another gentleman appeared for the prosecution. As soon as the judge had taken his seat, the prisoner was ordered to be brought in, aud a hush of expectation pervaded the assembly.— In a few minutes he made his appearance in the dock. His aspect—calm, mournful, and full of patient resignation—spoke strongly to the feelings of tho audience, and alow murmur of sympathy ran through the court. He bowed respectfully to the bench, and then his sad, proud eye wandered around the auditory, till it rested on the form of Lucy Carrington, who, overcome -by sudden emotion, had bidden her weeping faee in her father's bosom.— Strong feeling, which he with difficulty mastered, shook his frame, and blanched to a still deeper pallor his fine intellectual countenance. He slowly withdrew his gaze from the agitating spectacle, and his troubled glance meeting that of Mr. Sharpe seemed to ask why proceedings, which could have only one termination, were delayed. He had not long to wait, the jury were sworn, aud Mr. Gurneyrose to address them for the crown. Clear, logical, powerful without the slightestpretence to what is termed eloquence, his speech produced a tremendous impression upon all who heard it and few persons mentally withheld their assent to his assertion, as he concluded what was evidently a painful task, "that should he produce evidence substantiating the statement he had made, the man who could then refuse to believe in the prisoner's guilt, would equally refuse credence to actions witnessed by his own bodily eyes." -i::

The different witnesses were then called and testified to the various facts I have before related. Vainly did Mr. Kingston and I exert ourselves to invalidate the irresistable proofs of guilt so dispassionately detailed. "Iffis useless," whispered Mr." Sharpe, as I sat down after the crossexamination of the aged butler. \ou have done all that could be done but he is a doomed man, spite of his innoccnce, of which I feel every moment that I look at him, the more and more convinced. God help us we are poor, fallible creatures, with all our scientific machinery for getting at truth

The case for the crown was over, and the prisoner was told that now was the time for him to address the jury in answer to the charge preferred against him. He bowed courteously to the intimation, and drawing a paper from his pocket, spoke, after a few preliminary words of course, nearly as follows: "I hold in my hand a very acute and oloquent address prepared for me by one of the able and zealous gentlemen who appears to-day as my counsel, and which, but for the iniquitous law which prohibits the advocate of a presumed _felon, but possi­

bly quite innocent person, from addressing the jury, upon whose vedict his client's fate depends, would no doubt have formed the subject-matter for an appeal to you not to yield credence to the apparently irrefragable testimony arrayed against me. The substance of this defence you must have gathered from the tenor of the crossexaminations but so little effect did it produce, I saw, in that form, however ably done, and so satisfied am I that though it were rendered with an angel's eloquence, it would prove utterly impotent to shake the strong conclusions of my guilt, which you, short-sighted, fallible mortals—shortsighted and fallible because mortal!—I mean do disrespect—must have drawn from the body of evidence you have heard, that I will not weary you or myself by reading it. I will only observe that it points especially to the over-proof, so to speak arrayed against me—to the folly of supposing that an intentional murderer would ostentatiously persist in administering the fatal portion to the victim with his own hands, carefully excluding all others from a chance of incurring suspicion. There are other points, but this is by far the most powerful one and as I cannot believe that will induce you to return a verdict rescuing me from what the foolish world, judging from appearances, will call a shameful death, but which I, knowing my own heart, feel to be sanctified by the highest motives which can influence man— it would be merely waste of time to repeat them. From the first moment, gentlemen, that this accusation was preferred against me, I felt that had done with this world and, young as I am, jbut for one beloved being whose presence lighted up and irradiated this else cold and barren earth, I should with little reluctance, have accepted this gift of an apparently severe, but perhaps mcrciful fate. This life, gentlemen," he continued after a short pause, it has been well said, is but a battle and a march. I have been struck down early the combat but of what moment is that, if it be found by Him who witnesses the world-unnoticed deeds of all his soldiers, that I have earned the victors crown? Let it be your consolation, gentlemen, if hereafter you should discover that you have sent me to an undeserved death, that you at least will not have hurried a soul spotted with tho awful crime of murder before its maker. And oh," he exclaimed in conclusion, with earnestness, "may all who have the guilt of blood upon them hasten, whilst life is still granted them, to cleanse themselves by repentance of that foul sin, so that not only the sacrifice of one poor life, but that most holy and tremendous one offered in the world's consummate hour, may not for them have been

made in vain My lord and gentlemen, I have no more to say. You will doubtless do your duty I have done mine."

If was about, a few minutes after the conclusion of this strange and unexpected address, to call our witnesses to character, when, to the surprise of the whole court, and the consternation of the prisoner, Miss Carrington started up, threw aside her veil and addressing the Judge, demanded to be heard.

Queenly, graceful, and of touching loveliness did she look in her vehemence of sorrow—radiant as sunlight in her days of joy she must have been—as she stood up, affection prompted, regardless of self, of the world, to make one last effort to save her affianced husband. "What would you say, young lady?" said Mr. Justice Grose, kindly. If you have anything to testify in favor of the prisoner, you had better communicate with his counsel." "Not that—not that," she hurriedly replied, as if fearful that her strength would fail before she had enunciated her purpose, "Put, my lord, put Frederick—the prisoner, I mean—on his oath. Bid him declare as he shall answer at the bar of almighty God, who is the murderer for whom he is about to madly sacrifice himself, and you will then find"— "Your request is an absurd one," interrupted the judge with some asperity. "I have no power to question a prisoner." "Then," shrieked the unfortunate lady, sinking back fainting and helpless in her fathers arms, "he is lost—lost!"

She was immediately carried out of court and as soon as the sensation caused by so extraordinary and painful an incident subsided, the trial proceeded. A cloud of witnesses to character were called the judge summed up the jury deliberated for a few minutes, and a verdict of "guilty" was returned. Sentence to die on the day after the next followed, and all was over!

Yes all was, wo deemed, over but happily a decree, reversing that of 3Ir. Justice Grose, had gone forth in Heaven. I was setting at home about an hour after the court had closed, painfully musing on the events of the day, when the door of the apartment suddenly flew open, and in rushed Mr. Sharpe in a state of great excitement, accompanied by Sergeant Edwards, whom the reader will remember had called the previous day at that gentleman's house. In a few minutes I wa3 in possession of the following important information, elicited by Mr. Sharpe from the half-willing, halfreluctant sergeant, whouie he had found waiting for him at his office:

In the first place, Captain Everetts was iiot the father of the prisoner! man was the son of Mary Fitzhugh by her

uu ua nio owu. mis was

As much astounded as elated by this unlookcd for information, it was some minutes before I could sufficiently concentrate my thoughts upon the proper course to bo persued. I"was not however, long iu deciding. Leaving Mr. Sharpe to draw up an affidavit of the facts disclosed, I hastened off to jail, in order to obtain a thorough elucidation of all the mysteries.

The revulsion of feeling in the prison

mind when lie learnnd that the man for

whom he had so recklessly sacrificed himself was not his father, but a cold-blooded villain, who, according to the testimony of Sergeant Edwards, had embittered, perhaps shortened, his mother's last houi'3, immediate and excessive. "I should have taken Lucy's advice!" lie bitterly exclaimed, as lie strode to and fro in his cell have told the truth at all hazards, and have left the rest to God." His explanation of the incidents that had so puzzled us !!, was as simple as satisfactory. Ho had always, from his earliest days stood much in awe of his father, who in the, to young Mordaunt, sacred character to parent, exercised an irresistible control over him and when the butler entered the library, ho believed for an instant it was his father who had surprised him iu the act of reading his correspondence an act which, however unintentional, would, he kne w, excite Captain Everett's fiercest wrath. Ilenco arose the dismay and confusion which the butler had described. He re-sealed the parcel, and placed it in his reputed father's dress-ing-room and thought little more about the matter, till, on entering his aunt's bedroom on the fir.it evening of her illness, he beheld Everett pour a small portion of white powder from the tin flask into the bottle containing his aunt's medicine-—

er Frederick followed him. sistcd that the powder was a celebrated Eastern medicament, which would save, if anything couhl, his aunt's life. The young mm was not of course deceived by this shallow falsehood, and from that moment administered the medicine to the patient with his own hands, aud kept tiie bottles whieh contained it locked in his cabinct. On the very morning of my aunt's death., I surprised him shutting and locking one of my cabinct drawers. So dumfounded was I with horror and dismay at the sight, that he left the room by asidedoor without observing me. You have1 now the key to my conduct. I loathed to look upon the murderer but I would have died a thousand deaths rather than attempt to save my own life by the sacrifice of a father's—how guilty soever he might be."

Furnished with this explanation, and the affidavit of Edwards, I waited upon the judge, and obtained not oniv a respite for the prisoner, but a warrant for the arrest of Captain Everett.

It was a busy evening. Edwards was dispatched to London in the friendly custody of an intelligent officer, to secure the person of the foreign-looking vender of

subtiic poisons and Mr. Sharpe with

constables, set oft a post-chaise for

lands 3Ianor-House. It was late when they arrived there, and the servant* informed them that Captain Everett had already retired. They of course insisted upon seeing him and he presently appeared, wrapped in a dressing-gown, and haughtily demanded their business with him at such an hour. The answer smote him as with a thunderbolt, and he stagzsred backwards, till arrested by the wall of the

The youn"- apartment, and then sank feebly, nervoua-

1

ly, into a chair. Eagerly, after a p.'.u.*t', he

fir* marriage: auj his ni,M. con^aontly, tho intruta ,"*»*««££ jjj3

motbcr

was Mordaunt, not Everett. had not survived her sccond marriage barely six months. Everett, calculating doubtless upon the great pecuniary advantages which would be likely to result to himself as the reputed father of the heir to a splendid English estate, should the quarrel with Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh—as he nothing doubted—be ultimately made up, had brought his deceased wife's infant son up as his own. This was the secret of

°f t'10 evidence «:'-i!n=t turn. -nr. ojar..-, briefly replied Edwards was in custody,

replied

he added,

Edwards and his wife and to purchase their and be ready to accompany you. silence, Captain Everett had agreed to "W cannot lose sight cu you for give the bond for an annuity which Mr. Sharpe was to draw up. The story of the legacy was a mere pretence. When Edwards was in Yorkshire before, Everett pacified him for the time with a sum of money, and a promise to do more ior him as soon as his reputed son came into the property. He then hurried tho ci-dcvant

sergeant back to London and at the last the aparimeat, requested the coaatable to interview he had with him, gave him a note reach it for him. Tho Man hastened to addressed to a person living in ona of the comply with hi* wish. Swiftly, Everett streets—I forgot which—leading out of opened a dros9iag-case whioh stood on a the Haymarket, together with a five-pound table near him the officer heard the sharp ii note, whieh he was to pay the person to whom the letter was addressed for some very rare and valuable powder, which the captain wanted for scientific purposes, and which Edwards was to forward by coach to Woodlands Manor-House. Edwards obeyed his instructions, and delivered the

mi mi -ri ion for an hour and a halt, dunn' whieh ihe terrible truth at once flashed upon i. .. i- '•, time every one smoked an:l Jookeu o.n, ana him. A fierce altercation ltnmeaiatcjy ..,J at the end of that time, fairly tired with ensued in the lather dressm^-rooir. wlnth-i

,,

clicking of a pistol-look, and turned swiftly round. Too lato loud report rang through the house the room was filled with smoke: and the wrotohad assassin and suicide lay extended on the floor a mangled corpse! t.

message to the queer bushy-bearded for- julate the final winding up of this eventful eiguer to whom it was addressed, who told him that, if he brought him the sum of money mentioned in the note on the following day, he should have the article required, lie also bade him bring a well-stoppered bottle to put it in. As the bottle was to be scut by coach, Edwards purchased a tin flask, as affording abetter security against breakage and having obtained the powder, packed it nicely up, and told his neice, who was staying with him at the time, to direct it. as he wa3 in a hurry to go out, to Squire Everett, Woodlands Manor-House, Yorkshire, and then take it to the booking-office. He thought, of course, though he said Squire in a jocular way, that she would have directed it Captain Everett, as she knew him well but it seemed she had not. Edwards had returned to Yorkshire only two days since, to get his annuity settled, and fortunately was present in the court at the trial of Fredrick Mordaunt, alias Everett, and at once recognized the tin flask as the one he had purchased and forwarded to Woodlands, where it must in due course have arrived on the day stated by the butler. Terrified and bewildered at the consequences of what he had done, or helped to do, Edwards hastened to Mr. Sharpe, who by dintofexhortations, threats, and promises, judiciously blended, induced him to make a clean breast of it.

It would be useless minutely to recapit-

drama. Suffice it to record, that Mr. Frederick Mordaunt waa, after a slight delay, restored to freedom and a splendid position in society. After the lapse of a decent interval, he espoused Lucy Carrington. Their eldest son represents in thij present Parliament one of the English boroughs, and is by no nnans an undistinguished member of the Commons House.

CIRCASSIAN BEAUTIES AND WED-

?1

DISCS.

I saw an ivory wristed Circassian at tho house of a pasha, whose wife made a proud exhibition of tho damsel. I was seated in a room when a heavy curtain (the eccentric undulations of which had greatly contributed to arouse my suspicions) was gently moved on one side by unseen hands, and a young Circassian girl entered. She wore a veil, and as she timidly paused ou the threshold, I detected a glance of almost fear as her large black eyes fell upon me. My lady friend motioned her forward with an imperious gesture. She was magnificently dressed—her dark hair sowed with pearls, and her light bluo trousers, and turned up slippers, heavy with gold and pearls. Obedient to her lady's gos-. ture, she sat down on the edge of the divan, and certainly she was very beautiful My next vision of beauty was in the liouso of a slave dealer where a youm* rose of. the mountain. was for sale. A" Turkish® friend aecompanind me, with an English artillery officer and tlie Mahomniod-n gentleman proceeded to satisfy himself that the lady was tender and suple as well as fair. She submitted with sweet humility. The artilleryman, who was a fine,* handsome fellow, some six feet in height, and a perfect model of strength, (depending, doubtless, on his fascinations) next approached tho lady but hardly had he laii.s his hands upon her, when full on his devoted head fell such a blow as nothing bit', acular demonstration could have induced me to believe ?ofaira hand and arm couhl have bestowed then followed such a tor-.? rent of abuse, such a deluge of word.i, that we were positively stunned. 0.:r Turkish friend smiled gravely but no'1ingcouhl possibly appease the insulted fair, until we both left tiie room and as wo dr scended the creaking stairs tho lastsouiub wo heard were the angry exclamations (.f tho lady. She, indeed, to have been tottoheu by an iiilidul! a vile Christian a dog of a Giaour! I will now give an account of •*•. Ameniran wedding. The family beir..well off, the rooms were nicely arrange'!, and iu part were carpeted, aud a nunibi of musicians playing on the violin, iwiconducted to the divan, chibouks, nuts an 1 sweet-meats .being plentifully handed around from time to time. Iu the coura.s of tiie divan kueit a boy richly dressed.-— The violin players every now and thoa burst into a wild extempore song, accompanying themselves ou their instruments while the boy would from time to time st: rt, up and commence a violent kind of a danee, beating castinets to keep tune with hi a motions. This went on without interims*-

1V

•.I,,, t:ie noise, J. left, lie lollowmg morning, ... tiie bride was taken to church. 1 did not see her go, but witnessed her return. walked between two wienen—her brid

7

»v

th

'One

instant," replied Mr. Sharpe. the officers must accompany you." "Be it so I shall not detain cither him or you long.

Captain Everett, followed by the officer. passed into his dressing-room. He pulled off his gown and pointing to a coat suspended on peg at tho further ostremiiy o: ov—oppwl

.ier

maid'!, 1 presume—and her face was concealed by a covering of crimson silk, ornamented with gold, ami terminated by rich gold tassels. She was preceded by singers, and followed by Jit lea-it .seventy nien. As she approached the threshold of her father's door, a sheep was suddenly' thrown at her feet, and she suddenly stopped with her brides naids while its throii was cut with a sharp knite, and the bio flowed in rivufots ail around the spot wher-r .-die was standing. Advancing a step or two, she frequently stopped and kissed tii« hem of her father's garment, bending very low. Pre.-rj'.its were now oli'ercd her oL rich silks and cloths, and these sho received herself, handing them to her attendant women, whiie a "censor of incense was continually swung round ,'ior hjad by her father. I could not understand custom of siaughtfring a hheep on such ii occasion, nor did I speak enough ot tho language to be able to i.lisjover its purport. —L'o'-j.tcl Wtdmzlcy. i,-, —ftP t* I *11

Tun Wr.ATLii:iL T\v:..vr kaiis aoo.-

(JievelaisT Ihmla

'aid of .) .in. "lij, I

vear3 a

^—w,

ly years azo—W- learn ot mc arri­

val that day of tho steamer li'Jjcrt JSuUdu,. from lluilalo, having on i.ird I.1, h. trj. under jinmand ot Lieut. Col. Worth, -'i

1-

that tiie boat proceeded on her way fj Detroit. TheroVs.rearm ico to be boo a i* the Luke, but cuougli to prevent gation.

Pa'-'j ll::r Round.—Leandcr Dascom'i, •. a ma:i about thirty years of aire, five fo ileveTi inches high, iics-vy set, blue cyli /ht h?.ir, thick, .r-udy b.r.rd, a great ta cr, moderately intelligent, and_ not a 1-.%.: appearing follow wuiial, rrtio as a vr aiid one child living near Elmira, ?«. ha be in to pa el of a single man, in Oskaloona, Tow*. He ceedsd in winning the affections an 1 con_dence of aa estimable girl, aad under mise of marriage, obtained from her so/ -i

and had revealed everything. "Is it indeed so?" rejoined Everett, seemiuf to derive resolution and fortitude fro in the very extremity of despair. '-Then the game is unquestionably lost. It was however, boldly and skilfully played, aud 1 fifty dollars in money, which was about am not a man to whimper over a fatal turn entire amount she had :.avod frou\ ,- of the dice. In a few minutes, gentlemen," wages as a teacher during the suiu/^s».—. 'Ishall have changed my dre.^s, 'The evening before they were to 'bo ried said Dascomb absconded with a wit

an of notoriously bad character, iii yon •.

lady whom he had rubbed, betrayed jv deserted, was no atlected by her dfe «.fpointmeuts aud troubles, that sha pa -va end to her cxi-tenee by hiking .ir_, v.

fair The number of lemoeratic pa par#'in Illinois that sustain Senator Douglac, one— h« Jo!i»t Siz uJ