The Brecon Reporter and South Wales General Advertiser

PARTICULARS OF THE EXECUTION OF MAXIMILIAN. The New Orleans Times of the 6th inst., publishes a extra, containing a letter from San Luis t'otosi, Ejving the following particulars of the execution of the Emperor Maximilian and his officers :— A.t six o'clock on the morning of the 19th of June the troops "I Escolwdo formed a short distance from the city for the Execution of Maximilian and his Generals, the people of Queretaro flocking by thousands to see the closing ssenes in yielife of the men they loved. As the clock strikes seven, bells toll and announce that the prisoners have left their Prisons for the last time, and are on their way to their execu- tion. After a few moments they appear, drawn in carriages and a large gtwrd around them the Emperor first, Minimon next, and ilejia last. As they near the place of execution, convulsive sobs break from the crowd. The carriages stop, and the prisoners get out. Among the conclave you can hardly see a dry eye. Tokens of dissatisfaction are Manifested. Maximilian, on alighting, is saluted by tliepeople. III an easy and graceful manner, and with an elastic step, e marched to the fatal spot. The prisoners were dressed a plain maimer. They were not hound nor blindfolded. I'1 taking his position the Emperor spoke in a clear and nrni manner, and with nothing of bravado. He seemed to feel his situation, and said when lie was first waited upon at home by the deputation from Mexico, who came with credentials offering him the Government of the country, he refused. At a subsequent meeting the proposition was again Presented, and he replied that if convinced that the majority thought that it was to their interest to place him at the head of the Government he might consent. Another deputa- wonwaited onhim and brought additional testimonials. Upon advice from the. Powers of Europe, who ad vise, I him that wiere was no other course to pursue, he accepted the call. e denied that the court that tried him had a right to do So. His was a case of good faith. The nations of the world f^d pledged their faith to him. B e never would have done i ,ac'; had it not been for the good of Mexico. In con- clusion, he hoped his blood would stop the effusion of blood ln the country. Miramon spoke from a paper. The only regret he felt in dYlDg was that, should the Liberal party retain the govern- ment, his children would be pointed out as the children of a w'aitor. He told them that he was no traitor, but had al- ways opposed Liberal principles, and always been against the ^jsorder 0f the country. He should die as he lived, a Con- servative, satisfied to die for his country. The fame of his acts would live, and posterity would* judge whether he was ^'Stit or wrong. He closed with the words, Viva l'Empe- a<\ Viva la Alejieo." Mejia made no address he went to Escobedo and said he °uld die poor that he had never made an effort to make utoney. His only wealth consisted in forty cattle in the fountains, II e asked that the merchants of Matamoras, to he owed considerable sums, would not press his wife ■ ° Pay his debts when they came into possession of the money e*t them by the kindness of the Emperor. After Miramon ceased speaking, the guard was drawn up. The prisoners were standing facing them. The Emperor called the sergeant, and, drawing from his pocket a handful i 20 dol. pieces, he gave them to him and requested that aftr his death he would divide them with his company, siting as a favour that he would aim his bullet at his oeart. The officers gave the signal, the volley was fired, SJttl the prisoners lay stretched on the ground. The ~>hperor was not quite dead. There was considerable Htuvering of the muscles. Five balls had entered his P^saat. Two soldiers were then called out who shot him in j £ e side. Miramon and Mejia were killed by the first volley, ij^ch of the four balls entered in the, breast A sheet was nrown over the Emperor by the doctor who was to embalm hi 'sbody. The bodies were then taken by their respective riends, and the troops moved back to their quarters, while "ousauds remained, kept by a supernatural agency. k A Madrid paper, the Gorrespondencia, which occa- sionally receives reliable news from America, pro- tases to have received the following account of the last foments of the Emperor Maximilian Immediately before the final a<t of the tragedy Maximilian »ked the officer in command of the firing party to allow him speak to the men. This favour was granted him. The vj1 fliers having formed round him. the Emperor pulled out lls Purse, and divided its contents among them. He then redressed them collectively, saying, I beg you to accept js trifle, as the reward for a favour I expect at your hands, fo you to take a steady aim don't let your hands shake; orget all about my having been your Emperor. I freely for- iiu»e yo11' 1lut ,n'n^ t'lat von f'° 1!0t; make me suffer a linger- S death He then puiled out his cigar case, and divided c?e cigars among :lie men. The case itself—in silver, richly "ased—he gave to one of them who seemed more deeply im- to ?Se<* ^au t'16 res' with 1 he enormity of the crime about 0 be perpetrated "Take this and keep it," he said, "in j-.ejnory of this day. It once belonged to a viceroy more out nat'e than mvself." Immediately afterwards he was led oil sh°k Ilis death is said to have been instantaneous, bullet having crashed through the brain. THE LAST HOURS OF MAXIMILIAN. A correspondent of the Brownsville Rctnchero, writing r°in Fresnillo, Mexico, says :— I have seen a friend who has just arrived from Queretaro, who had an interview with the Emperor. He was iosely confined in a convent with his general officers. Al- fl'ier"1 's 110 Imperialist, he described the calmness »h which the Emperor spoke of his probable execution, foi-t Quiet, dignified bearing under the weight of his mis- rtunes, as having been deeply affecting. cotnfWould seem his conquerors cared little-for the personal atifl royal prisoner. He had no change of linen, teilagentleman from San Luis supplied him with the coir- eflts of his portmanteau, which was gratefully received. ?he Ranchcro of the 28th adds the following as the Prime cause of his death :— T| -A, gentleman just in from the interior, who is well posted in Mexican matters, states to us some rather startling acts in relation to the execution of Maximilian. ■fcromhis intercourse with leading Mexicans, this gentle- states most positively that it was Seward's letter re- jWesting the sparing of Maximilian's life that directly caused j?8 death. Prominent Mexican officials freely admit that irrt re ,vas 110 thought of executing the Emperor on his falling jJ'othe hands of the Liberals, previous to the reception by g?arez of this request of the Government of the Vnited Hat' tlie recePti°n of that, however, a determi- nation to put the Emperor to death was almost unaui- j 0llsi both in the army and out of it, and it was worth uarez's life to have denied acceding to the clamours f«r his execution." MAXIMILIAN'S EFFORTS TO ESCAPE. tin^ Observador of Matamoras tells how, after his condemna- tion- death, the Emperor offered a General Kivadensi a jjutlion dollars if he would enable him to escape. The latter t° to it, got the promise in writing, and then carried it 10 Escobedo. MAXIMILIAN'S BODY. The following letter has been addressed by the v^toinander of the United States steamer Tacory to ^resident Juarez:— Sir,—i am earnestly solicited by Captain Crueller, of the Austrian, navy, commanding the imperial man-of-war of A^e £ /i,.t° beg, on his behalf and that of the Government Austria, that you will be pleased to allow him the privilege of receiving the remains of the late Prince axiinilian on board the Elizabeth, for the purpose of con- n e¥Jng them to Austria. The relics of the dead can be hlther of service nor injury to Mexico, and, as I conceive prayer to he one of tender humanity and of affection for a « Unhappy and bereaved family, I have the honour to beg in K request may be granted. Any expenses incurred l;r f'nging the remains to Vera Cruz wili be most cheerfully siii"K ted by Captain Crueller.—I have the honour to be, tn: respectfully, your obedient servant, E. A. HOWE, Com- ^ander, U.S.N. MAXIMILIANS DEFENCE. v,^>esPatcliPS from New Orleans, printed in the I\rew York papers, contain further intelligence regarding the trial of *aXiniilian. Maximilian was confined to his bed when the ase was called, his being the last. He was ably defended by "eiior Eulalio Ortega, who refuted thechaigesof Maximilian's Ji^rpations and cruelty. He said that the law of the 3rd of 1 ctober was made when Maximilian was cheated into the ^"ef that Juarez had abandoned the territory, and that J™e of the articles of that law was dictated by the French J-0mmander-in-chief. He said, moreover, that that law was intended as a terror, and as there never had been a Wtition for pardon presented but was conceded, he earnestly the members of the court, in the name of civilization history, which would judge of the terrible deeds done ."at day, an(i as the defenders of the second independence Mexico, to save the good name o the country in the eyes coining generations, who would for ever applaud, as the .owning of the greatest victories, the greatest forgiveness. tJ?0Dg the accusations'against Maximilian was one of at- eppPWr'Sto prolong ilie war by the decree of March 7, and r a'ing a regency in case of his death in the coming battles. ar^18 Marht Vasquez, one of M.-tx niiliaii's counsel, closed the <jpf?,Blent as follows[f j on condemn the archduke to th-p :!rn not uneasy about a coalition in Europe, or the »0?fatening attitude that the United States may assume vards the republic, I have confidence in the Liherals who Ye rooted out the French from this soil; tut I fear the aT,'T?rsal reproach that v. ill f«n upon our country as an of « ma—worse than even a sentence of death—because 4 the nullity of the proceeding* of this court." MAKING 8HOJU WORK OF IT jjA letter from Mexico says: "A reign of terror exists in ('0, and bloodshed is the order of the day. The 'Oeralists made short work of their enemies. On June 29, jw.lsal, they shot Santa Anna, a Mexican whose 50 years of V? ^ave heen typical of the t.iuLulent condition of his tortH ry who, like every other Mexican, has been a friend 'tor t° every Mexican jiarfy an.d_ who, when out of S3o^ftr' Was niost blatant for popular rights, yet when m Anr Was alwa>'s <;i'uel, merc'l<-88. and tyrannical. Santa 8 long caitier is certainly typiral of Mexico and the lie skirted in liie a. Liberalist. yet he lias been lje'c,e »n Imperiafist, and mmy times the champion and IFJ a centralize!i despotism; lie WHS a dozen rimes the tin1 Of. eIther the populace or (he army, and 3.Z many ?s to utter di>-grac^- He was three times banished 'Weed, to ]»:nc Mextw, .aiwl was twice reealJed to be welcomed back with open arms. In 1823 he raised the standard of nsurrection against Iturbide; against Pedrazza and in favour of Guerrero in 1828; against Guerrero and in favour of Bustamente in 1830; against Bustamente and in favour of his old enemy Pedrazaa in 1832; and, finally, in 1833, he made himself President, when the standard of insurrection was in turn raised against him, and he had a stormy time until 1837, when he was captured by the Texans at San Jacinto, and afterwards went into voluntary exile in the United States. Santa Anna was an inveterate insurgent, but he always managed to escape the insurgent's fate. He was cruel and remorseless to his prisoners; when striving to gain powerhewas a fawning demagogue; but when in power he was a despotic and tyrannical ruler. For ever issuing proclamations' in favour of Mexican liberty, he never lost an opportunity to make himself a Dictator awl to strike down the liberties and the constitution of his country. In short, Santa Anna was a true Mexican, and his life and death are illustrative'" Mexican history for the past half century."

HEAVY DAMAGES AGAINST A RAILWAY COMPANY. At the Newcastle assizes on Saturday, before Lord Chief Justice Bovill, Mr. Donaldson, mining engineer, brought an action against the Blyth and Tyne Rail- way Company, to recover compensation for injuries which he sustained by a collision which t<>ok place near the Backworth railway station, at the junction of the Morpeth and Tynemouth branches, and about seven miles from Newcastle, on the 17th of January last. The plaintiff, who had got into the first compartment of a third-class carriage, at the Backworth station, ready for Newcastle, when the shunting of another train was going on in consequence of the line being blocked up by snow, happened to be near to the engine which came into contact with the passenger train, and was thrown with great violence against the woodwork on the other side. The end of the carriage was broken in, and it was found that he had been seriously injured. He was in- sensible there was a deep gash from his nose to an inch and a half above the left eye, the lid of which was divided across one of his knees was dislocated, and the ligaments disrupted and incipient paralysis of the side had ensued. Mr. Donaldson had been under medical care ever since, and was not likely to be re- stored. He is 45 years of age, has a wife and two children. As an enginewright he received 61. a fort- night, and the remuneration he got as a valuer in arbitration cases, and for reports upon mining matters, made, it was alleged, his receipts about oOOl. a year. The medical man who was sent by the company to visit the plaintiff, did not think he would ever be able to resume his occupations. The defendants denied there was any negligence on their part. The guard of the t-ntin said he put on the break, but it would not take effect, owing to the ice which was on it, and the driver of the plough engine proved that it was only going at the rate of two or three miles an hour. The company's engineer described the process of shunting as a perfectly safe operation." The jury assessed the damages at 2,2001. It is stated that several other actions arising out of the same collision are pending.

MURDER AT ST. HELEN'S. A shocking murder was committed near St. Helen's on Saturday night. A collier named Mather lived with his wife and son in a cottage, which is a quarter of a mile from any other dwelling, at. Greenleach, near St. Helen's. Both Mather and his wife were old people, and went to bed early. On Saturday night, the son was out, and they left the back door on the latch for him. Shortly after midnight the mother heard a noise below, and Mather went to see who was there. He found a tramp about forty years of age examining a drawer, from which he had jut.t taken a razor. He asked him what he was doing there, when the fellow turned round, seized him by the arms, and instantly cut his throat completely across with the razor. All the large blood-vessels were severed, and Mather died almost immediately. His wife had fol- lowed him down stairs, and seeing this act ran out by the back door screaming for help. The murderer fol- lowed and caught her, made a cut with the razor, and inflicted a severe wound on her cheek. Being afraid of capture, no doubt, he then ran off. The poor woman was able to describe the man as apparently a tramping collier, about forty years of age, with a strong Lan cashire dialect, and dressed in corduroy trousers and a light coat. He left his clogs in the cottage. The police were instantly on the alert, and a tramp was arrested on suspicion. "lIM.

BORROWING HALF-A-CROWN! At the Middlesex Sessions, in London, John Harris, aged thirty-eight, has been charged with stealing one sovereign in December, 1864, belonging to Mr. Whittell. This was rather an extraordinary case, not only from the lapse of time since the offence was committed, but from the circumstances connected with the prisoner's apprehension. The prosecutor is a builder, and at the end of 1864 or beginning of 1865, lived at 21, Smith-street, Chelsea. One afternoon, when his wife was at home, the pri- soner called, and learning that Mr. Whittell was ab- sent, expressed his regret, because he particularly wanted to borrow 2s. 6d. to make up an amount which he was going to Paddington to pay. He also said he represented a city firm with whom Mr. Whittell dealt, and he offered to leave his umbrella as security. Mrs. Whittell took out her purse and said she had only a sovereign. He said he could give change and produced some silver. The sovereign was placed on a table. At that moment Mr. Whittell arrived, and the prisoner shook him by the hand as if he were a friend. Mr. Whittell did not know him. He said, Oh, you have forgotten me, but you know my firm very well." At the same moment he swept up all the money, but acci- dentally dropped a two shilling piece, and, without stopping to piek it up, hurried from the house. Mrs. Whittell then told her husband that he had taken the sovereign. Mr. Whittell went to the door, and the prisoner, who was about fifty yards down the street, on seeing him ran away. A sharp pursuit for 300 yards ensued, but the prisoner escaped. In September, 1866, Mr. Whittell changed his address, and went to live at Gough-house wharf, Chelsea. One evening in April, 1867, the prisoner called there, talked of ordering drain-pipes, and again wanted to borrow 2s. 6d. to go to Paddington and to leave his umbrella as security. Mrs. Whittell recog- nized him and said, "That's the man who had my sovereign whereupon the prisoner again ran away and was again unsuccessfully pursued. On Saturday, the 14th of June, Mr. Whittell saw him in the Fulham-road and spoke to him. He denied all knowledge of Mr. Whittell, but that gentleman insisted on having his name and address, or going to a police station. The prisoner got into a Hansom cab. Mr. Whittell stepped up behind and told the cabman to go for a policeman. The prisoner told the cabman te knock' him off the step, and when the cabman re- fused struck at him with his umbrella. Mr. Whittell would not leave, and after the prisoner had ordered the cabman first to drive to Clapham and then to Pad4ington, a policeman was found in High-street, Kensington, and the whole party went to the station. The prisoner gave the same name which he had given in April, but refused his address, although Mr. Whittell said if he would refer to any one of respectability he would not charge him. He subsequently offered 51. to the pro- secutor to forego the charge, and appealed to him whether he had never been hard up and wanted to borrow half-a-crown. At the police-court he told the magistrate that he ran away the first time because he wanted to take an omnibus, but Mr. Whittell proved that he ran past the KmgWoad, where omnibuses do pass and was lost sight of in a side street. He called himself an architect and surveyor and said on the 14th of June that he had only j ust come to London. A witness proved that in December last he took lodgings, and said his name was Pelham. The jury found him Guilty. It was stated that in many other cases he had obtained money in the same way. The judge sentenced him to be imprisoned and kept at hard labour for twelve months.

A PAINFUL CASE.-SENTENCED TO DEATH. At the assizes held at Chelmsford, James Bacon, a labourer, 24 years of age, was indicted for the wilful murder of his wife, at Dagenham, on the 28th of March last. The case was one of the most painful that have ever been heard in a court of justice, and as the sad story was detailed in evidence it produced a profound impression upon a crowded audience. The prisoner, a labourer, 24 years of age, had been married only three years to a woman rather younger, by whom he had two children, and to whom he appeared to have been tenderly attached. He was, the witnesses said, "doatingly fond of his children," and was heard to say that he worshipped the very ground" his wife trod upon. He was honest, hard- working, and industrious, and they had lived together happily between two and three years, when, unhappily, his wife s mother came to live with them, and in some way or other (how did not exactly appear) the effect was a marked deterioration in the young wife's character and conduct. She became dirty, untidy, and unthrifty, neglected her household duties, got her husband into debt, and left his children in a dirty and untended state. This preyed upon his mind and caused him great grief, which he afterwards alluded to as a burden laid upon him greater than he could bear." While in this stata of mind, on coming home one day from his work he found that his goods had been seized for rent, and that although the land- lord kindly forgave them the rent, and gave back the goods, it was upon condition that the young people should leave the house and seek a lodging elsewhere. This was too much for the unfortunate young man to bear. He had earned good wages, and was proved to have paid them to his wife for the support of his little househould, and he came home from work to find his little all seized for rent, and he himself literally turned out of his home and forced to seek shelter at a friend's. He broke out into expressions of bitter anger, and declared that she had been his ruin. He called for his children, kissed them tenderly, gave them back, and then asked which way his wife (who was absent) would come home, and in that unhappy mood he went forth to meet her. About an hour had elapsed when he saw her coming, and he parted with a friend who had been with him, and went on alone to meet her. They met, and, as no eye witnessed their meeting, although it was on the high road, what passed can only be surmised from what ensued. In a quarter of an hour the unhappy young man, with pale and ghastly countenance and hands reeking with blood, sought his friend and horrified him by telling him that he had murdered his wife, and gave himself up to justice. The friend would not believe him but the Unfortunate man said it was too true, that he feared she was dead that he had used his knife. Another witness met the poor woman staggering along the road, weltering in her blood; she sank down on the bank by the roadside, and in a few minutes died. There was a dreadful wound on her throat, and the knife with which it was inflicted lay beside her. When the man was taken to the police-office, and was told she was dead, he broke out into an agony of grief, and was evidently overwhelmed with horror, and his demeanour on his trial showed the same feelings of horror and of grief. When the counsel for the prosecution described the happy way in which the young people had lived, together, the young man bowed his head down and burst into tears, and he remained throughout his trial in a state of emotion it was pitiable to behold, and which betrayed the most profound grief and anguish of heart. There was, 8S the learned Jude observed more than once, no doubt as to the facts, and they were proved in substance, as above stated by witnesses, who all testified strongly in favour of the prisoner's general character. But in the mind of every., lawyer who heard the case there was no doubt as to what the verdict must be. An able address was made for the prisoner by Mr. Serjeant Parry, who, in the course of his speech, said that, "if the young man, when he met hi-s wife, did not intend to kill her, and the fatal blow was struck in a sudden access of passion, it was not murder. This was not a dry question of law it was a question fur the jury to exercise their sense and judgment upon, comparing the act with such acts of designed and do- liberate homicide as were commonly and justly desig- nated murder. It was certainly a doctrine of our law that no mere words could excuse the use of a deadly weapon, and reduce the act to manslaughter but that was an unsound doctrine in philosophy and morality and he besought the jury to take the matter into their own hands, and not trust to a recommendation to mercy, which (so uncertain was our administration of criminal justice) might be regarded ori one occasion and disregarded on another; but let them return a -i, verdict of manslaughter and so rescue this unhappy yourg nan from the penalty of murder. The respon- sibility rested solely with them, and in their handi lay the life of this unhappy young man." Witnesses were called to character though, as the learned Judge observed, very unnecessarily, as no young man could ever have received a better character than the prisoner had already received from the wit- nesses for the prosecution. The learned Judge then summed up the case to the jury and said :— He should have been heartily glad if he could have adopted the view of the law given by the learned Serjeant. But (pro- ceeded the learned Judge with great emphasis and firmness) it is my duty to tell you what the law is, and it is your duty to act upon that direction. You are not there to say what murder is. The law of England tells you what is the crime of murder. It is your duty to try the facts. A lid if the law declares that on a certain state of facts the crime is murder, it is your duty to act upon that, law. You do not sit there with a discretion to find this man guilty of murder and that man guilty of manslaughter as you may think proper, according to your own view of the law. It is your duty to act upon the law as laid down by the Judge. And I regret to say that I canno'; adopt the view of ihe law which has been suggested to you. I shall tell you th2.t there are only two questions for you to consider :—Did the prisoner inflict that wound with his knife in the neck of his wife? Did she die of that wound ? If you are only able to answer those questions in the affirmative, then I tell you that the law calls that murder, and not manslaughter. That is the law of Eng- land,—if a person takes away the life of an other without lawful cause or excuse it is murder. I regret to have to lay down that law in this case but it is my duty to lay the law down as it is. and it is your duty to obey my direction on the law. The learned Judge then adverted to the facts, and then again said with much emphasis, if you believe that ho in- flicted that wound upon his wife and that she died of that wound it is murder, and nothing else. It is for you to act upon that direction, according as you believe the evidence which I will now read to you. The learned Judge then read the evidence at length. He remarked that no man could have received a better character than the prisoner had borne, and every one must regret that he should have placed himself in such a position. But, said the learned Judge, again emphatically, my duty is to tell you that if you believe he inflicted that wound and that his wife died of it he is guilty of murder. We are here to administer the law; I am to do my duty, and you are to do yours. My duty is to declare the law—yours is to act upon it, as so laid down. If it be a proper case for the mercy of the Crown, no doubt that mercy will be extended, and I cannot concur with the learned serjeant in thinking that if a representation is made to the Crown in a proper case it is not acted upon. So far as my experience goes it is otherwise; and every fair and proper recommendation is certain to he attended to. But we have nothing to do with that to-day. My duty is to tell you the law, and your duty is to aet upon it. Your duty is only to deal with the facts, and I tell you that if you believe the prisoner inflicted that wound upon his wife, and she died of it, the character which the law gives the actU that of murder and not manslaughter. Kow consider of your verdict. The jury considered their verdict for a few minutes, then the foreman, in a tone of deep emotion, said that they found the prisoner guilty of murder, but with a strong recommendation to mercy on account of his good character. The prisoner being called upon replied that he had nothing to say, and he and every one else in court appeared fully to concur in the justice of the verdict. The usual solemn proclamation being made for sentence of death, The learned Judge proceeded in a tone broken with emotion to address the prisoner. The jury, he said, have found you guilty of murder, and that verdict was the only one which, in accordance with their oaths upon the evidence, they could possibly find. No person at all acquainted with what the law of England is could doubt that the crime of which you are guilty was the crime of murder. They have, however, accompanied their verdict with a strong recommenda- tion to mercy and in that recommendation I entirely concur. And so far as rests in me I will immediately communicate it to the proper quarter, and, so far as I can, I will support it. But I beg of you to understand that it does not rest with me, but with the Queen. And so far as I know the prerogative of mercy is always exercised with propriety, and with a careful consideration of all the circumstances of the case. I therefore forbear from doing more than what the law compels i,ie v do and that is to pass the sentence of death. This the learned Judge then proceeded to do in the usual form, but before he got through it he fairlyl)rolce down and burst into tears and it was with the utmost difficulty that he could command his voice sufficiently to utter the concluding words, overcome as he was with an emotion in which everyone in court shared. The prisoner, evidently deeply sensible of the kind- ness and feeling of the learned Judge, respectfully but heartily thanked him as he withdrew from the dock. Shortly afterwards a very painful scene occurred, when he reappeared to take leave of his friends and relatives,, who were all deeply affected.

THE REVIEW AT WIMBLEDON. The business of the Wimbledon meeting was on Saturday brought to a close by a series of interesting and attractive events. Befiire the arrival of the Sultan each corps under canvas told off detachments for a guard of honour, which lined the way along which the Sul. tan and the Prince of W ales were to pass. The Sulta n's tent was a gorgeous affair—a thing of quite if not more than Eastern grandeur. There was a circular tent some forty feet in diameter formed of scarlet and white canvas, and its floor was covered with scarlet cloth. This was the reception tent. Luxurious otto- mans, chairs of gold and damask, tables of elegant form, pedestals of ormolu work supporting jardiniers filled with the choicest flowers, and fountains throwing up sprays of fragrant water. On the right and left flags of Turkey and of England were gracefully draped. On the right was the ante-room, and on the left was an ante-room—one for the Sultan, the other for the Prince of Wales. Withdrawing the draped curtains on the side opposite the entrance, and a gallery of lavish luxury was entered. Here, on tables covered with rich velvet and bullion fringes, were placed the prizes which the British Volunteers had won. The whole of the fittings-up and decorations, particularly the floral ones, were magnificent. This entertainment was provided by Lord Spencer. The Prince of Wales was received by Earl and Countess Spencer at the entrance of the tent, and was con- ducted into the interior, what were, also, the Duchess of Cambridge, Princess Mary Adelaide, and other dis- tinguished guests. The Royal pait remained wait- ing for some time, expecting the arrival of the Sultan. After waiting something like half an hour the news' was brought that the Sultan had arrived on the ground by a route different from that expected, and the' Prince of Wales hurriedly mounting his horse rode off to meet the Sultan in front of the Grand Stand. The ceremony of handing the prizes to the successful competitors took place in front of the Grand Stand. The prizes were arranged on tables covered with baize. In the centre of these tables was a raised dais on which the Princess Mary Adelaide, Prince eck, Earl and Countess Snenoer, and others stood. The prinoess wore a mauve-coloured dress, with lace trimming, and a black shawl with gold stripes. No prize under the value of 20L was distributed. Considerable cheering took place as the more successful and best known competitors advanced, the greatest enthusiasm being displayed, when the English volunteers advanced, and bore aloft on their shoulders the huge Elcho Challenge Shield, amid the cheering of their comrades. At the termination of the distribution, the review commenced. The Prince of Wales, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Princess Mary, and most of the distinguished visitors took up their positions at the flagstaff shortly after half-past five. About six o'clock the booming of the cannon announced the arrival of his imperial Majesty the Sultan, who, with a splendid escort and staff, in a few minutes afterwards rode on to the ground. His Majesty bestrode a magnificent white charger. His dress was a splendidly emblazoned suit of blue and gold; lie was accompanied by his Itoyal Highness the Duke of Aosta second son of the King of Italy, and by the English attaches appointed by her M«-i«s4ty, and his own suite, also mounted upon chargers of the finest breed. He was received by the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Cambridge. The scene at this moment was a magnificent aud a striking one. Although clouds were gathering it w.s still line. The background was formed oi the prand stand crowded with gaily-dressed people. There were also a very large number of carnages. It wa" precisely H quarter-past six when a signal-un caUed the troops to attention, and the royal party rode along the linee. the Belgians, about 1,000 in number, being first visited. The volunteers were then inspected, and then the regulars. By this t:me a drizzling rain h id iset in. which continued during the proceedings. A terrific scene of confusion then took place, the spectators having forced the barriers. The police and Hussars had hard work to keep them from mobbing the caval caue, The tour of inspection being completed, the march past commenced, the post ot honour being awarded to the Belgians. The appearance of the regular troops, cavalry, artillery, and grenadiers, with their bands, ery grand, and elicited vehementcht-ei'- ing. At the head of the 1st Regiment of Life Guards rode his Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief and Field-Marshal the Duke of Cambridge, with his staff. With the conclusion of the marching past the rain seemed to increase in violence. Then a kind of in. voluntary rush was made, and the boundary line was broken notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of the 11th Hussars to keep their own. The vast multitude made directly towards the Sultan's carriage, cheering his ^Majesty with unbounded enthusiasm. This inno- vation had the effect of enclosing the dais, on which were seated the Duchess of Cambridge, the Princess Teck, and other ladies of distinction. The Duke of Cambridge observing this, at once told his staff to en- deavour to form a passage to enable those ladies to reach their carriages, but it was not until some consider- able time had elapsed that this could be accomplished, and that, too, with the aid of his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, who, seeming rather to enjoy the conin* temps, smilingly backed his c harger against the in creasing pressure and crowd, and ultimately their Royal High- nesses the Duchess and Princess left the dais, followed by the ladies in attendance. The Sultan, too, had in the interval gainec-l his seat under the cover of his barouche, and drove away, followed by the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Cambridge, who were still in the saddle, and who must have been drenched long before they reached Earl Spencer's tent. It was es- timated that there were at least 200,000 people present during, and even at the conclusion of the review, which was about eight o'clock. An attempt was made to light up all the butts as the Sultan was leaving the common, shortly before tea o'clock, but owing to th state of the weather, the effect was not very satisfactory. His Imperial. Ma- jesty returned, to town as he had come down to Wim- bledon, in his travelling carriage, escorted by a troop of Hussars.

A CODICIL TO HIS WILL! At the Thames police-court, in London, last Satur- day, William Christopher Workman, aged 65, who refused his address, and was stated to be of no occu- pation, was, on remand, charged with fraudulently ob- taining money under false pretences. The prisoner, who has a half military, half naval appearance, was formerly captain of merchant ships in the West India trade, and subsequently kept a public-house in Lon- don, and has since been living in private lodginglf. In the course of a few weeks preceding the 12th of the present month, he was in the practice of calling at the shop of Mrs. Lloyd, Mile-end-road, and making various small puichases. He soon pretended to be much pleased with her kindness and attention to him, represented that he was heir-at-law to a million of pounds sterling', and that he intended to make a hand- some provision for her in his will. He also said that a liw-suit was pending relating to the property, and that it would soon be decided in his favour. On Friday, the 12th inst., he again called upon Mrs. Lloyd, and said he had-tr"ght a codicil to his will according to promise, and that he required half a guinea for the registration fee, to make his, intentions in her favour quite regular and legal. She gave him 10s. 6d., and he left the shop. Mrs. Lloyd, who said she did not believe one word of the prisoner's story when she paid the money, followed him and gave him into custody. Thomas Venables, police constable and detective, stated that since the last investigation he had dis- covered the prisoner has obtained sums of money varying from 10s. to 201. of various persons, under pretence of being heir-at-law to a million sterling, and producing a copy of his will and codicils, bequeathing large sums to his dupes. Several persons he had defrauded were in court. The officer put in the docu- ment, which was as follows :— I, the undersigned, believing myself next of kin and entitled heir-at-law, or otherwise, to property in the name of Workman, amounting to the sum of upwards of one million sterling, and in consideration of your kindness and polite attention to me when I visited your shop, I, William Christopher Workman, do hereby promise to give to Sarah Sophia Lloyd, of ';0 227, Mile-end-rnad, the sum of 4004. sterling, to be paid when this great matter is settled ia court. Dated, this 10th day of July, in the ye-sr of our Lord 1867. William Christopher Workman, Registration fee. lOs, 6d. Mr. Phillinder, a tradesman in Lambeth, said the prisoner has been borrowing money of me on the re- presentation that a large sum is coming to him, and that he had left me 4,0001. He said he had such a deal of money he did not know what to do with it. I lent him 191, in all in different sums. He completely (le- ceived me. Mr. Smith, a builder, said The prisoner got 151. out of me and said he had left me 2501. We met occasionally at a public-house and I treated him now and then with a. glass of ale. One day he said to me, Do you know what I have done for you ? I have left you 2502. in my will. What do you think of that old fellow—where do you live?"' I told him, and he borrowed a shilling of me, and after that he required 10s. for a stamp, which I gave him. He had a half- crown and some other money of me. He put a six- penny stamp on the codicil and said that he would bring a lawyer to make all things secure. Police-constable Venahlps said the prisoner obtained 15l. from a man named John Elliott, toll collector on Waterloo-bridge, Elliott's son, and other members of the family, whom he had made legatees in his wilL The prisoner's will was produced. It set out by stating that he was heir at law to one million sterling, and bequeathed sums varying from 5001-. to 5,0001. to persons from whom lie had obtained money. The magistrate, after consulting with the chief clerk, said the prisoner would escape the law, but he had been guilty of most gross deception on the people from whom he had obtained money. The boundary by which he did escape was a very narrow one, and if the prisoner ever did overstep the boundary he would be severely punished. He hoped the prisoner would abandon this abominable system of fraud. The prisoner: I will —I will, sir, indeed." The magistrate Take care; you are discharged,"

IK THE MIDST OF LIFE," &c. In London, last week, a semation of grief, which it is almost impossible to describe, was occasioned by the sudden death of the wife of Musurus Pasha, the Turkish Ambassador during the festivities at the India Honse Musurus Pasha was informed that Madame Musurus was taken somewhat ill. He imme- diately left, first making known to the Sultan his ob- ject in so abruptly leaving. On reaching an ante-room he found the poor lady suffering the most excruciating agony, as if from some spasmodic affection of the heart. Medical aid was sent for m various quarters, but most of the gentlemen were from home, but at length one was secured, and who, upon examining the unfortunate lady, found her in such a state as to leave no chance of her recovery, and at] vised her removal to her private residence, but she died before reaching home. On hearing of this sad event, the Queen, with ne vee- failing sympathy, which her own grief has rendered only the more ready to participate in the sorrow of others, telegraphed directly to the Embassy, and also sent an equerry to inquire after the health of the Am- bassador, and to express her sympathy and condolence with him ill his sad bereavement. The Prince of Wales and all the members of the Royal Family also sent to offer their condolence and to ask after the health of the Ambassador and family. The sent his chamberlain, Djemil Paslia, on the same gracious errand. Madame Anne Musurus was born in 1819, and v; as one of the daughters of the well-known Prince Vogo- rides. She was married in 183.). to Musurus Pasha, member of one of the first families of Constantinople, and whose eldest brother is a member (if the Great Council of the Empire, and the youngest Prince of Samoa. Prince Nicolas Vogorif't.s,) trotber of Madame Musurus, was Ca'iinacain of Moldavia before Prince Couza her youngest brother, Prince Alexander Vogo- rides, was Councillor of the Embassy at London, and was much esteemed in the highest circles he is now a member of the Great Council of the Empire. Her eldest sister is the wife of Prince Stourdza, who was for sixteen yea-is Prince of Moldavia. The 1 amenUd lady leaves two sons and iour daughters. During Saturday Dr. Lankester, the coroner for Central Mid.'ltr ex, received information of the death of Madame Musurus, accompanied by a. certificate signed by Dr. J. C. Forbes, her medical attendant, who ascribed death to disease of the heart, accelerated by excitement. The coroner thereupon deemed an inquest uunt-cesjary.