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TOGETHER WITH THE OIECUMSTAJTCEB OF THE MTIBDER; INCIDENTS OF TIE TRIAL THE PRISONER'S CONFESSION; HIS BXK3UTI0N; FULL REPORTS OF EVIDENCE; .AND SPEECHES OF COUNSEL IN KXTENSO. Arranged anU preimreil hy J. W. LONGLEY, ESQ. A. «I>JE:C1AT^ ItBFOM'X'UK A-T 'J'HK TKrAJLi. |- HALIFA.X, X. S.: rUlNTKr>^ BY WM. MAONAB, 12 PRT.XCK STUKCT, - 1874. ''■A X ^mmnm THE TEIAL II OF PETER MAILMAN FOB THB MURDER OF HIS WIFE, AT LUNENBURG, N. S. lOGETHBB WITH THB dBOUKBTiJfOES OF TEE KXTBDEB; QTOIDSITS 07 THB TRIAL THB PBISOITEE'S OONFBSSIOB; HIS EXBCIITIOir ; FULL BEPOBTS OF EVISBBCB; ABS 8FBBGHBS OF COUBBBL DT BZTBBSO. Arranged and prepared by J. W. LONGLEY, ESQ.' HALIFAX, N. S.: PRINTED BY WM. MACNAB, 12 PRINCE STREET, 1874. LJl •'.i .JL, -A. ■i?i.'. PREFACE. As Special BepoK or for the " Acadian Becordor ** and Bt. John " Daily Telegraph," I attended the trial of Peter Mailman, charged with the murder of hia wife, at Lunenhurg, N. S. The trial referred to began on Friday, the 17th day of October, 1873, and creat«4 in* tense interest, not only in Lunenburg, but throughout all Nova Scotia. Happily, murdersjare rare in this Dominion ; we are blessed with a state of Society which renders crime of this revolting character al- most impossible. The circumstances connected with the Bridgewater tragedy were so horrible in their nature, and the crime fixed itself so irresistibly on the prisoner, that every body was eager for the results of the legal investigation of his guilt. It was the firbt time I was ever brought face to face with a mur- derer, and I confess to having acquired an exceedingly deep interest in the man, and the whole case. And, while at Lunenburg, many persons expressed a wish that full reports of the whole case should bo gathered together in pamphlet form, and preserved as a painfully interesting local record. Acting on this suggestion I have devoted what few spare bourn I had to this task, and this work appears simul. taneously with the unfortunate man*s execution. In my record of the evidence and scenes of the trial, I am de- pendent chiefly on notes taken at l^e trial, which appeared at that time in successive numbers of the Acadian Recorder. The social history of Nova Scotia has few sadder records than the one which this little pamphlet embodies. Though I shall forward a copy of this to our various newspapers, I may say that this little pamphlet is not intended as a literary effort • — nor for criticism. Halifax, December QUt, 1873. D day brou cour fully the E is pp how laws menl leadfi H mort may can c deptl lack! strik a rei work parat Th unusi oouni fied,: heino wouu than fa^! &om murd ¥^ ' ■■*"' ^ PETER MAILMAN. TSm MU&DXR. During my attendance at the triaJ. of Peter Mailman, — lj«tAl^ufg day after day to the horrible detail) of the Murder as tl^jf ^^^ brought out by the different witnesses ; and holding frequoD^ jpjtvh course with the prisoner in his cell, I ^waa led to contemplate very fully and seriously the crime of murder. Nothing is dearer to a man tha| his life, and yet, how many doors there are to lot life out I— Himdreds are passing each other in the street every day ; a stub with the smallest pocket knife might &tally wound. To move among men is practically placing one's life every moment at their mercy, and yet how safe wo all feol. This, if we come to think, is not all due to our laws ; not the result of the security which the fear of capital punish- ment inspires ; it is the working of a natural law which instinctively leads every man to hold sacred the life of his fellow-man. How often are two men together alone — far from the roach of mortal oyo, and yet neither as a rule, trembles in fear of death. It may be laid down as a fixed principle that only a murderer at heart can commit wilful murder. It is almost impossible to conceive the depth of wickedness to which a human being has sunk — the horrible lacK of all natural feeling, when he can dtoliberately and in cold blood strike dead a fellow-being. The mmd sickens in contemplating such a revolting act, and we instinctively thank God that, although our world is full of vice and sin, happily the propensity to murder is coip.- paratively rare. The details of the murder of Mrs. Mt^ilman by her husband are unusually horrible — a more atrocious murder is not on record in this country. If his confession is to be believed, the case is slightly modi- fied, but the facts in evidence stamp the deed as a most cowardly* heinous murder. I learned that the deceased was a very beautiful woman of her class — her appearance being much more prepossessing than that of any other wopmn in the locality. Alas I how dread a The circumstances of ^he murder and the trial are taken directly from Dfiy reports written at the time fpr the Daily Acadian Recorder. THE PBI80NEB. — HM OUti;.. — ^% AfP|aBAl J We watched each other for a short time without speaking. I ooald easily observe the twitching, nervous movements of tho nkan. H« would get absorbed in thought every now and again, and rub his knuckles together, and play with his finger nails, while a look of in- tense anxiety would come over his face. Presently he asked mo to be seated, and moved to one end of the bench that I might oocupy the other. I thanked him, and sat down — alongside an alleged murderer ! We soon began to talk a little about tho case — easily at first, but at length I succeeded in drawing him out fully. He seemed nervous about his trial, wanted a good law- yer, and hoped that he would get a " fair shake.'* This was said al- most pitifully. Then in answer to a question firom me, he said— • " I am a poor man, and haven't much speech, but I am too honest for this thing ; but I will meet it like a man. It is pretty hard to be here. [Here ho became pathetic] I have laid here for months. They have got up everything against me ; but I bear it all. I look up to God. I am too honest for this thing." Then, in reply to another remark — " I hope they will not take my life for this. They have got the wrong man — they have got the wn)ng man ! The right man has not been got yet. God has given me sense to say this one thing." Then he complained of his daughter prosecuting him, and how she had sworn falsely against him. I said ; " What motive has your daughter for being so very much against you?" Said he : " I will tell you why, I brought my daughter up well until she was fifteen years old, and then she became her own master, and she went astray, and she kept company with a married man. Her poor mo- ther tried to stop her, and they had fightin' and javdng all the time. — ^Then my daughter had a child, and if my wife told me true, she had two children, and there was where the trouble all was, And this man wanted my wife out of the way, and than wanted me out of the way too. But, thank god, I am oUve yet ! But they have'nt the right one yet. O ! they have the wrong man I Oil tell you they have the wrong man ! Here the prisoner became much affected and his language was quite impressive. Said he : " The man that takes my life for this will have no peace on this earth afterwards — and I don't believe be will ever get to heaven at last ! I tell you they have got the wrong man l" /X'^QMrkctd that it would be made clear some time. - *^.X*fci"st wjJd and el» and send It must be B in his room conception, a murderer! S OOFBT. , Oct. 17. seat on the been locked ag awaiting was indes- 3 seemed to other was or a place, actions in to remain Esq., ap- le prisoner. lilman, the was upon e a decent somewhat 38ent, that unenburg, our Lord ant Eiver fully, and Mailman, 9 He then put the enquiry "Are you guilty or not guil^||^!^|l^ prisoner answered in a clear and firm voice, " f am as innocenfr turtan unborn babe !" • When will you be ready for trial V * If my witnesses be here — * * When will you be ready for trial ?' (sharply) ' If my witnesses get here, and my counsel says so, I — I * Mr. Kaulback, Q.C., counsel for prisoner then rose and stated that all the witnesses for the defence were not here and could not be got, and asked that the case be postponed till Monday. Mr. Creighton, Q. C, who acted for the Crown, stated that every means had been taken to get the witnesses here. He had signed the subpoenas for the prisoner's witnesses, which made them at the expanse of the country. Mr. Kaulback stated that the prisoner had no money, and that all the witnesses had to be brought through the kindness of friends and the Sheriff. There was considerable discussion about the matter, dur- ing which it was stated that some of the witnesses that came to town were so poor that they were unable to find lodgings in town, and were begging to be allowed to go away. It was also affirmed by the counsel fo.' the prisoner, that the feeling in the County was so strong against the prisoner, that no man co^d be got to go for the female witnesses, fearing the consequences. At length it was decided to go on. About an hour was consumed in drawing the jury. The prisoner's counsel did n(xt object to any peremptorily, but he objected to all, ' for cause.' This resulted in all the ordinary formida of questions, such as : • Have you heard or read an vthing about this case ?' ' Have you formed any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the prisoner ?' * Are you prejudiced in any way, for or against the prisoner?' • Can you try him iairly, according to the evidence, without any bias ?' . I noticed that most of the jurors were very ready to deny all pre- judice in the matter. Instead of being anxious to be relieved of the responsibility— an exceedingly grave one — they oemed extremely solicitous of enjoying the honor-;— and they were willing to sacrifice their own feelings in order to perform their duty to their country. Their names are as follows : — James Brown, Foreman ; James Sea- boyer, Edward Deamon, John Maxner, Benjamin Eisenhauer, Martin Smith, George Winter, Joseph Smith, Benjamin Conrad, Henry Con- rad, John Sandall, Joseph Wentzel. THI TEIAL. J^t IX A5 a. m., Hon. ^ohn Creighton, Q. C, rose to open the case for the Crown. He asked the jury to dismiss all prejudice, and, avoiding any rash or hasty conolueion, ju^ge only according to the nw W^»^PP" 10 f^eace. TMs was the most important case that had ever been tiled in the county. He had been living in this county for over sixty years, and had never yet known a man charged with cool and deliber- ate murder. This was not an ordinary case of taking of life in tho heat of passion ! this man is charged vrith wilfully and in cold-blood, murdering his wife, whom he had promised to lore and protect. •There had been a murder in this case — there can be no doubt of this. This woman might have kiUed herself, but she could not have buried herself. This is clear. There wag no direct evidence that the prisoner knocked his wife's brains out. But, in few cases of murder, is there any direct evidence. Men who take life, generally take care that no eyes behold the ue&ri- ous deed. But in most cases of conviction, circumstantial evidence is deemed sufficient. The learned Counsel read some high legal opinions in support of the force and efficacy of circumstantial evidence. The prisoner, since the time of the murder, had attempted many stories and excuses, every one of which were false. He had never seemed in the least aftected by the loss of his wife. The prisoner and his mur- dered wife left together for the woods on the 11th of August. The Counsel then proceeded to give a detailed account of the various sub- sequent incidents bearing on this case. EXAMINATION OF WITN1SSE8, ON THE PAET OF THE CBOWN. Daniel Carver was the first veitness : Live on Pleasant River Eoad — about 2 miles from the prisoner's house — was about 1-4 mile from his place on August 11th — saw the prisoner at his own house, about 3 o'clock, p. m . — saw his wife about 1 o'clock^ — did not see priaoner at 1 o'clock— did not see prisoner and wife together at 1 o'clock — saw prisoner coming towards the house in a difl'erent direction from where his wife was found, at 3 o'clock — did not see him carrying anything — prisoner kindled fire n3ar at 3.30 p. m., — saw the wife lock ^p hens at 1 p. ro., — never saw hor afterwards — searched for the body — George Uhlman found the body — I saw and examined body — she had a woollen dress on — do not know what her underclothes were. Cross-examined by Mr. Kaulback : The body was found about a mile from the house — saw prisoner re- turn in an opposite direction from where body was found, did not see him have anything in his hand, did not notice particularly — ^the fire was kindled on the property of the prisoner, he (prisoner) might have intended to make a clearing — he had had a chopping there, saw noth- ing more of Mrs. Mailman than he had said on direct examination — am personally acquainted with the prisoner, he was not a real good man, he had an ugly disposition. Angelina Mailman, sworn — I am daughter of prisoner, have alvrays lived with him, Mary Ann Mailman, deceased, was my mother, they iived together as man and wife. I recollect the 11th August last, it 11 was on Monday, my &ther and mother left the house on^jbAt da|^fl|r &ther shut the hens up before they started, he loc^b^.i^e )|(mii|;|m with a padlock — and went down towards the brook, He liadaniae uia she had a basket, the basket was white with red stripes in it. I was about a quarter of a mile from the house when they started — ^I could see them distinctly, I was on clear land, I fancied they went to picl? berries, wild pears ; my brother and sister were with me and saw thom^ small children. I returned to the house before either of my parraits and found tL^ door locked. Albert Mailman came to house before &ther returned, he said he came &om his home — about a mile from ours. I saw him coming from the direction of his house about half an hour before my father returned, know the direction in which my mother was found. Mailman did not come from that direction. I got into the house through the window. I told Albert Mailman to draw the staple and let the children in : Mailman was in the house about half an hour before father came home and remained about another half an hour after fether returned when he started from the Bruich. My father had.au axe and a basket when he returned, it was the same basket my mother had when she went away — will swear to that, there were wild pears in the basket, about three and a half quarts, was sur- prised when father came home without mother, I asked him where mother was, answered that ' she had gone up to Ben Baker's,' he re- mained in the house a half an hour or more and then went out and set fire to the woods, in a different direction to which my mother was found. He came back from there a little before sunset, he went away again in the evening — after dark — said he was going to Bon Baker's to bring mother home : he returned that evening between 11 and 12 o'clock, P. M. My mother wore a woollen dress — a calico underskirt, and a little boy's hat ; saw my mother put the calico skirt on in the morning ; the calico skirt was not in the house after my mother went -*way till Wednesday morning, when I saw it at the head of papa's bed : it was rolled up. My mcther always hungup her clothes. No- body except my father and the children had been m the house from Monday tOl Wednesday morning. On Tuesday morning asked papa again where mama was ; he replied that she had been hired to reap with Ben Baker, that she was to get $1 per week, and had hired for a fortnight. On Thursday he went to Bridgewater and took with him a squaw named Mary Grlode, and brought her back with him ; the squaw stayed all night at the house. While my father was at Bridge- water Ben Baker came to the house ; he wanted to get my mother to reap for him ; was sick in bed when he came in ; he asked where my mother was ; told him that my father said she was at his place ; he said she had not been there since the previous Sunday. When my father returned vidth the squaw they were both pretty tight, and each had a bottle full of rum or gin. When Ben Baker told me that my mother was not at his house I was alanned ; when my father came home that night I told him that he had told me a story — that Ben Si T-n , t .i'M 19 II Bldtvrli^ 1^)1 ber^ and toM me so; I told him I believed he had .IKlciA'hor ; Ike, M|d if she was not there she was either at Waterloo or at the Branch. I told Ben Baker I beUeved he had killed mammi|. Saw mv uncle Ifevid next day (Friday) ; he knew my mother was missing. [Here witness broke down and wept ; she had kept her countenance thus far very well.] I told him same as I told Ben Baker On Friday father went to the Branph to bring mother home, as he. said. He came back without her, and said that my mother was at Bmeno's reaping rye. My sister told papa that I told Ben Baker I believed he had killed mamma ; he said he would go to Esquire Baker's and get me arrested ; he went away taking both the children with him ; returned about 4 o'clock ; left again that night after dark taking the two children with him ; he took his clothes with *him ; six yards of Kersey, six and a half yards plain cloth, 9 yards printed cottons, ■ half loaf of bread, some Indian meal, 2 quilts, and my brother and sister's clothes ; said he was going to Waterloo and going to stay 8 day^ to George Deamone's ; I was in bed when he went away ; my father bid me "good-bye" and said that to-morrow (Sunday) morning, there would be some constables come after him, and when the consta- bles came 1 should speak all in his favor and should say nothing about my mother ; he said " if the constables got him they would hang him — but they would hang his two children first ; " my father and my mother lived disagreeably together ; he often beat her ; sometimes with an ox-whip ; he had threatened to kill her; a short time before my mother's disappearance — about a fortnight — I heard a disturbance between them one night ; he attempted to choke my mother ; and if it wasn't for me he would have done it ; there was no partitions in the house ; two beds in same apartment ; father and mother slept in one, and the children and myself in the other ; I heard my mother cry out ; and got up and lighted the lamp ; saw he had his hand on her throat and his knee on her breast ; I was out gathering wild pears same afternoon that my father and mother went to the woods. Cross-examined by Mr. Kaulb^ck — I know the nature of an oath, learned it from my teacher. My mother was over to Ben Baker's on Sunday and promised to reap for him that week. Mr. K^— Was there a p/u^r^.jq^JB^. White's on that Monday night? ■A— ^ Yea, f ''.:':'._/.', /' ' Mr. K — Was not Albert Mailman at that party, and did he not come to your house on Tuesday. morning ? A — He came about 5 o'clock and left after daylight. Hr. K — Bid not Albert Mailmaii sleep with you that night ? A — None of your business. J know Mrs. Albert Mailman. ■• Mr, K — Did Mrs. Mailman come to you sometime ago and bog; you not to seduce her husband, and implore you to refuse to allow him sA tiie house ? 18 A — I waa not brought hwe to answer about Albert Mailman's wife. I came here to answer abomt the death of my mother. Mr. K — Did you answer Mrs. M. that you had kept company with her husband, would do it agaiii, and break up her family before one year ? A — No. I deny it. Mr. K — . If you had said it, would it, have been true ? A — No it woiUd'nt. * * * • « • • Mr. K. ' Are you in the habit of getting drunk ? * A. ' That's nobody's business, and I wont answer it. I owned einly one pair of boots ; I gave them to my sister on the night when my father and the children went away ; did not get a pair of boots soon after ; Albert Mailman never gave me any boots ; there was only one basket in our house ; it was a large basket — bigger than a sian's hat ; it was white with red stripes } never counted the number of Stripes ; my father requested me to take the children with me on that Monday when 1 went berrying ; my father and mother did quarrel.* Mr. K. " Was not your own illicit conduct with Albert M ailman the cause of this quarrelling ? A. " I wont answer such a question. If you want to know, go And ask mamma." It has been about a year since I knew of my father beating my mother ; he was cross rnd threatened her continually up to the day of the murder. (The Court adjourned here for the day 18 — there are no more inci- dents to notice in connection with the trial so far. Sattjbdat, Octobkb 18th. Joseph Baker, swom^ — I first heard that the deceased was missing on Friday, the 15th August last. I heard it through David Frossel. I told him not to be too fisist, but to make enquiries. I cpmmonced to search for Mrs. M. on Sunday, the 17th, in company with two cr three hundred other persons ; began the search in tne burnt woods : searched on Sunday, Monday, part of Tuesday, and on "Wednesday ; found nothing in the b'umt woods ; commenced the search on Wednes- day in the burnt woods again ; left burnt woods and went to the western side of Branch Eiver— this was in an opposite direction from tiie burnt woods — separated and went down the river. I and George Uhlman and others went together, found some Uttle pear trees cut down — apparently with an axe — shortly after we f 3und tracks. Uhlman first noticed them, and called to me. We thought they were tracks made by a man and woman on a swamp on clear ground made bare by the uprooting of a tree. I looked particularly at the tracks— they were very distinct. I discovered nothing noticeable in tihem ; the tracks pointed down the river, not in the direction of the body. -We fbllowed down the river, found the same tracks, and other trees cut down outside of prisoner's land. We crossed the river and a sate " treo cut on the eastern side,^ and followed up stream in the direction of prisoner's house ; saw k place away from the river where brakes had been beaten down. TJhlman and I discovered this ; we remarked the place and went on, came to a swamp, discovered the same large and small tracks ; followed them about twenty rods ; saw some meadow grass and moss trampled down. Stood there for an instant, when Uhlman said, " Joseph, if the deed has been done, this looks like the place." "We cast" our eyes about soarchingly, when Uhlman said, "What's that, Joseph?'* I looked, then replied, " That is what we are looking for ! " TJhlman then exclaimed, " My Gob I The Woman!" ('Here there was breathless silence in the court. Every body was visibly affected, save the prisoner, who looked as stolid and indifierent as ever.) We discovered the body of the woman-— Mrs. Mailman, It was lying partially doubled up under the root of a tree that had been partly blown ever, the roots of which had raised up the moss about it, leav- ing a hollow cover placed just beneath it, just large enough to hold a body, which had apparently been put in head first, and the feet Crowded in last. The opening was partially concealed by a htadful of moss. Part of the dress covering the back of the body was ex- posed through this opening, one foot also visible. There were stock- ings on the feet — no shoes nor hat — did not uncover or disturb the body until the Coroner came. I saw the left side of the face, and knew the body to be that of Mary Ann Mailman, wife of Peter Mail- man. (Sensation in court — prisoner imperturable.) I went for the Coroner — saw the body removed to Mailman's house, where Dr. Croucher examined the body. She was taken from under the tree and piit in a cofGin and carried to Mailman's house. When the doctor was examining her I saw a wound on her head. The place where the body was found was very secure for concealment. Cross examined by Mr. Kaulbach — When I saw the others dis- covered the tracks, we examined them and thought they were the tracks of Mailman and his wife. We partly formed this opirion, be- cause we understood they had gone this way in search of pears. After we found the body we could find but one track going from the pliEice — a large (man's) track. Saw tracks on east side of the river where the pear tree was cut. Saw no further tracks until we came to the swamp. I don't know of any other persons frequenting this place for pears. I have heard the prisoner using harsh words to his wife. I know the witness, Angelina Mailman, and from my knowledge of her character I would believe her oath. We discovered but one track leading from the body after we found it. We followed it for six or eight rods — a large track. We thought it that of the prisoner. I said, ** Here is where the scoundrel went after he killed her." Benjamin Baker, sworn — Saw Mrs.M. last on Sunday before she was missing — went on Tuesday lio Mailman's house and asked Angelina for her mother. She was surprised to learn she was not at my house. T ge 16 I never told Mr. Kaulbach that I had taken home Angelina drunk- • never saw her drunk. I saw the body after it was discovered under the root ol the tree. Cross examined by Mr. K. — I have not seen or known anything Bj^nst the witness, Angelina Mailman. Oeorge Uhlman, sworn — Knew deceased — searched for her body on Wednesday — examined burnt woods till convinced that she was not there, then went down the river — west side — saw pear tree cut. Joseph Baker and others were with me ; followed river about a mile down stream ; saw tree ci^t as I proceeded ; saw a small track as of a woman, and a man's track — ^found them at intervals for about half a mile. Joseph Baker and I then crossed the river to east side, and went up stream ; saw a spot where tracks had been travelled over and pressed down as if done by a woman's skirt passing over them '; went a few rods further and came to a swamp, and there saw tracks of two persons ; one large, other small ; extended into swamp about 20 rods, when we came to a spot about 5 feet in circumference, having the appearance of being trampled down, as if persons had rolled. there. I got on my kneeij to examine the leaves, and saw a man's track continuing in the direction we came. I here discovered body of the deceased, and called to Mr. Baker. " What is . this ? " He said, "The Lost is Foust)!" * I saw the body of the dead woman, but did not know her then as wife of prisoner. She had nothing on her head, nor shoes on her feet. The place where we found her was excellent for concealing. The hole under the tree I could span with my arms. In this hole we dis- covered a body. A person would be apt to pass the place without noticing it. Cross-examined by Mr. K. — Following the tracks in a straight line from the body, I cannot tell where tl.ey would come out. The woods were strange to me ; I was the first to discover the tracks on the west side of the river, and caUed to Baker and others. I examined the traoks closely, wad my opinion was, they were those of the prisoner and his wife. The footmark on the moss track was somewhat as if there were no heel on the boot. The other had but part of a heel on; don't know whether it was right or left boot that haa no heel. . Dr. J. S. Colder, sworn — Am a Coroner. Was called upon to hold an inquest on Mary A. Mailman, deceased. I first saw the body in the forest at quarter of a mile from prisoner's house. It was in a natural cave under the roots of a fallen trea, which wfts covered by a growth of moss and turf. The body was removed to Mailman's house. (Here prisoner's two young children enter court house — little bov and girl), i^eceased had on a woolen dress and woolea ptockings. Body not stripped in my presence. Held an inquest owthoAy of deceased. Employed Dr. Croucher and Mr. Oox to hold a jpo»* mortem examin- ation of body. I examined head before body was removed to the house; found blood oozing from back and side of hea4>. Bid i^ot II myself discover cause of death. The pMt mortem was held while I was getting evidence from Angelina Mailman, who was sick. The body was crowded into hole under the tree. > Cross examined by Mr. K.-^Joseph Baker called upon me to hold inquest. He with others led me to the place. This was a natural place, save the additional covering of some moss and grass. When I first came to the body no part of the clothing or person was exposed to view. Mobingon Cox, -^rwom — Am a medical student — ^hate attended Dalhousie College two sessions. Was called upon to assist at &poH mortem examination of the body of Mrs. Mailman. The head was dissected. I discovered a fracture of skull on back part or base of head. There were mai-k<> oi scvci-al blows apparently nriade by a blunt instrument. A piece of skull was entirely loose — -had been driven in. The pole of an axe would probably make such fractiu*e ; have no doubt the wounds were sufficient to cause death. I assisted in stripping the body ; no other wounds discovered. She wore a grey woolen dress, a cJiemise, drawers and stockings. Saw other marks of blows on the skull ; no other fractures. Can't say if these others were sufficient to cause death. Cross examined by Mr. K. — ^First saw body in woods — heard Dr. Calder examined. We botH went to body at same time. I could see part[of body by stooping down and looking into hole pointed out to me. I could see p- '"t of clothing and her feet. She had on stockings, but no shoes. Ancu-her blunt instrument besides an axe might have made the fracture. Inquest was held on 21st August last. Doctors Calder and Bamaby testified their belief in the competence of Mr. Cox to give an opinion as to cause of death. Josiah Fancy — -sworn. I assisted in the search for the body — saw tracks along the brook-r^xamined them particularly — helped to bring prisoner from Greywood — examined his boots on the way — saw some large headed nails in his boot heels — ^when searching for the woman. Saw in the large tracks marks of the large heads of these nails in the heel — about half of heel was off one of prisoner's boots. Prisoner told me at Bridgewater after I had given him up to constables not to go home until he had seen me — went to prisoner — ^he told me to go home and hunt for his wife. I replied I would do so if he would tell me where to look — he said to go from the house that way (pointing in the direction in which the body was found) to where lots of raspber- ries grow — ^if she was not there to go about the swamp where little tea-berries grow. We found the body in a swamp where there were some of these berries, and I remarked to those about me ''these are the berries Mailman had reference to." I and the conettables started for Grey- wood on Sunday morning— ^^got thete about 9 p. m*— went to George Mailman's honse (prisoner's brother)-^reconnoitTed the house — ^the dog Imrked and the prisoner came ciut of doors without coat or hat — It stood awhile, then started toward the bam — we then went into the house and enquired for prisoner. George Mailman said he had been there and gone away — we wont away and returned next morning — met George Mailman at the door who said prisoner told him that I should not come into the house or there would be " bad work," but that Solomon Baker might come in. B. went in, brought the prisoner, and he returned home with us. Cross-examined by Mr. K. — Prisoner offered no resistance — rode in his own carriage behind us, our waggons were never separated more than a few rods ; he did not express a willingness or desire to search for his wife. Am acquainted with Angelina Mailman — know no- thing against her character — would believe her on her oath. I did not make any statement to you that I believed Mailman to be innocent, or that I would not beiieve Angelina on her oath. Edward Grouse — sworn. Mailman came to my bouse about a week before Mrs. M. was missing — said he was going to Greywood and asked my wife and I to accompany him ; my wife said, " Mrs. Mail-* man must go with us." Prisoner said : " No, you need not expect that, for she is on her last legs. She isn't well ; she's gone away from home now, and shell be going away this way and be missing some day, and nobody will know what becomes of her. Cross-examined by Mr. K. — It seemed to me from the conversation that he did not think much of his wife — it did not impress me at the time, but afterwards his words came back to me with force — ^prisoner was always a good neighbor to me and never did me any harm. Jacob Rafuse, and Bonjvnin Fancy testified briefly in regard to seeing the prisoner coming from the woods on the afternoon of the murder with a basket, and what seemed to be an axe or stick on his shoulder. , Court Adjonmed at few minutes before 6, p.m. MONDAY MOENING, OCTOBER 18. Mr. Kaulhach rose this morning and stated that he had been re- fused admittance to the children of the prisoner, though they were witnesses for the defence ; that he had gone to the house where they were stopping yesterday, and was told that he could not see them ; that they had been refused admittance to their father, though he desired Iq see them. His Lordship expressed his surprise at this statement, and directed that the prisoner and his counsel have full and free access to the children. Alhert Or&ueker, M. i?., sworn — Am a medical man ; was summoned by Dr. Calder, professionally, to hold a post mortem examination of the deceased, Mary Ann Mailman — (witness described the state in which he found the body under the roots of the tree, substantially Kke th& statements of the other witnesses). The body was removed 2 18 from the cavity, and put in a coffin ; no marks were made on the body from t'le time of its removal till the poat mortem was held; ex- amined the body in the prisoner's house ; Mr. Cox assisted me ; found fractuze of the skull in back of the head ; found a small piece of bone detached from the skull, and a fracture extending all through the skull into the brain ; the bone at back of head separated from the side bone ; was a mark at side of head as if struck with a blow, and another over the eye ; no other marks ; in my opinion the fracture was caused by a dull instrument ; the pole of an axe would make such a fracture ; must have been very severe blow, indeed, death would immediately ensue ; life had probably been extinct at time of examination as many as ten or eleven days. (Witness described deceased's clothing.) ^ 'Cross-examined by Mr. K.^ — Pole of an axe might make a wound of that kind — any other blunt instrument might make such a fracture ; might not take 9 or 10 days to decompose a body in August, but body was in a very cool place ; body could not have become so decom- posed in such a place in less than 10 or 11 days ; knew the woman and had attended her ; have not attended her for a year. Albert Mailman^ sworn — Am a married man ; have four children ; I live at Upper Branch; recollect 11th August last; was home that day till between 2 and 3 o'clock, p jn.; was mowing and spreading grass ; Angus Baker was with me ; Bafuse was home that day ; we talked together ; left home between 2 and 3 o'clock to go to Tim White's to a pw1;y ; had my fiddle with me ; White lives on Pleasant Itiver Boad. Went to Hirtle's before I went to White's ; prisoner lived in direction of Hirtle's ; passed the prisoner's door ; two little children outside of door ; Angelina was inside ; the door was locked with a padlock; hens Were shut up; went into the house, and Angelina told me to draw the staple. I did this and went in, and the two little children with me. Asked Angelina where her father was. SSfae said her father and mother were pear picking ; remained in house nearly half an hour ; was going away as Peter Mailman came in, at about 4 o'clock ; he brought a rosket of pears in ; axe in other hand ; came and offered mo some pears ; I eat a few, Angelina said to prisoner, " Where did vou leave niamma ? " He replied, " She has gone to Ben Baker's." Angelina said, " I don't be- lieve it." He sai<^ " If you don't want to believe it, you can go to h — ^Jl." Prisoner turned round and walked out-r-retumed in a minute — basket was good-sized, with handle— had red stripes — had about ^iree quMi;s of pears in it— H^aw no other basket in the house— Ange- lina said, " There was sopiething nlorethan common" — prisoner made no answer — I left my fiddle there and went to the Branch — ^prisoner said, before I left, he had to go and set his chopping on flre-^re- mained here till sundown, then went to White's, stopping at prisonei^s house on the way — ^found hipi home-rrtook my i|ddle and started for White's — remained at White's till nearly daylight — ^lefb Wiite'a at>out d a.Q^r and passed prisoner'* house and went home — went in Br'9 prisoner's house a short while, about ^ hour — prisoner and three children at home — up and a light burning — prisoner told me previ- ously that he was going that evening to meet his wife at Ben. Baker's. On Friday afternoon after I went by prisoner's house again, in company with my brother and John Armstrong ; went in ; prisoner had just come home from the Branch; was unharnessing the horse ; we asked him where ho had boon ; he said he had gone thither to fetch his wife home ; I asked if he did so ; he said, " Mo ; it rained too hard. I am going down to-morrow to fetch her." I supposed his wife was at the Branch this time ; at Emeno's ; next day several of us went, riown to the Branch lo see if Mrs. M. was there. I asked some of Bmeno's people ; thuy sa^d al.^ was not there ; stayed round the Branch till night, when I went home, going to the house of Peter I^^oilman ; called in ; prisoner was getting ready to go away ; he asked mp what was the news at the Branch ; I said, " Not much, only your wi.j is not there " — he did not say much then, only that he was going to Waterloo ; he wanted me to buy his pig ; told him I had not money enough—said he, " How much have you got ? " I gave him what money I had, and he counted it and said : ** I haven't a hat fit to wear," and wanted me to sell him my hat. I told him he might have it for $1.00. He took it, and said, " the pig is yours." He then began to get off, taking various things into the wag- fon with him— bread, meal, clothes, &c. It was then dark. I saw im leave with the two children : didn't say wher^ he was going to at Waterloo. An alarm wis raised on this day about Mrs. Mulman, and search was commenced ; prisoner did not know they were search- ing; don't know where prisoner went that night; when ready to depart be went to the bed where Angelina was and said to her, " To- morrow there will be a lot of people here, and if tbey ask you where I am, tell them ' at Waterloo.' '^ He said, " they will ba after me, and if they get me . Speak a good word for me and I'll buy you a good presents If they get me ^nd hang pie they mutt hang my two children first." He then said — " I won't give the two children up, they must go wherever I go." Going away he said — " I have to leave my country on account of these d- 4 Frossel's " — he then left. His wife's maiden nai^e wi^ Fro^sel. Cross-examined by Mr. Kaulback— Live about one mile fl»om piir soner's house. It is about ^| ^ules from prisoner's house to Brfipchi and to Whitens it is about one mile or more. No direct ro«d from mj house to Hirtle's through the woods, except by the way of prisoner's house. The distance from my hoi^se to Hirtle s is i^bout 3^ miles. It is further than Hirtle's to "^V^te's. I stayed at prisoner's house night prisoner went away with his phildren, ftt the request of his daughter, AngelinjE^ who was i^frfud to be left fJone. * • • « • • f ' X vtayed at Mailman's house on Friday— i^t prisoner's own reqi)e but he wouldn't fetch her ; public not alarmed about the Braii'^h at this time* Mrs. M. was never at the Branch ; heard of the finding of the body afterwards ; saw body under the tree well stowed in ; very secure place. (Here the two young childreii of the prisoner came into Court, and were seated.) Theresa Mailman (11 years old) came on to the stand (Mr, Oreigh- ton questioned her as to the nature of an oath — she knew her letters —could read a little — had been taught to say her prayers by mamma, her mother told her there was a God — prayed to God — if she told me a lie she would go to hell — her mamma had always told her to tell the truth — told her it was wicked to tell a lie. The Judge talked kindly and told her she must tell the truth— that God knew everything she would say-^and would be angry \vdth he* m she told a lie.J ^ She was sworn — Know my father — had a mamma oflce — she's gone now — (much feeling in the Court, many strong men wept — and pocket handkerchiefs were freely used by scores. It was exceedingly touching.) Saw my mother in the house for the last time — I then went around to Mr. Baker's fence to pick pears — Angelina and Sonnie were with me — (prisoner seemed entirely unmoved and as the child is giving her touching narrative, he is eating crackers) — ^I had a basket with me, brought home berries or pears — mamma told us to go and pick pears — this was after dinner ; mamma and papa were in the house when we started to pick berries ; mamma was sewing ; don't know what papa did after that ; never saw mamma after that ; next saw papa in the house ; when we first came back papa had not come back ; the door was locked ; was not in the field with my little brother when papa came home ; when I came into the house, papa, Angelina, and Albert Mailman were in ; mamma was not there ; have not seen her since ; mamma said she was going to Ben Baker's for a couple of days to reap and then she was going to Nathaniel Bmeno's at the Branch j papa took Sonnie and I to Greywood ; papa said we were going to Greywood when we went ; Albert Mailman was in the house when we went away ; papa had promised to take me to Greywood before this ; never heard papa say anything about going to any other place save Greywood — papa said before we went that we would be away about a week. Solomon Baker came after pa, the night after we got to Greywood ; we left Greywood on Momlay morning, and got to Ben Baker's that night — been up to jail — saw papa — never saw papa alone In jail — always somebody m — a vraggon sent for sonni© and me ; we were frightened to comc'-— for fear we would be put in jail— ^Mrs. Jo« Baker told us we would be put in jail. ' * '; .^ Papa and mamma went off driving sometimes ; lisSnfer' inrk tnifi^ beat mamma; papa kisses me= — kisses Sonnie — sometimes he kissed mamma. Cross-examined by Mt. Owen-^Saw Counsel (Mr. Kaulback) last night, was alone with him and my brother, talking for some timd--' saw him again to-day. Bidn't see Mr. K. this mom^iiig a few minUtfcs ; lUtked this matter over Hn^ Mr. K. i had a Httle toilet basket that aft;emoon to put berries ili. Wheti ll 28 we came the home and found it locked, Angelina crawled in at the window. Albert Mailman broke open the door, and let Sonnie and me in ; did not see papa when he first came. There was a large basket in the house — it was not there when we went in from picking berries. Saw the basket in room when Sonnie and I returned into house, after papa came home ; saw calico skirt hanging up on a nail sometime after mamma was missing. When papa, Sonnie, and I went away for Greywood, Angelina was sick ; papa said " good bye " to her, and that he would bring her a present if she would keep house. Witness detailed many other circumstances already established, bu^ brought out nothing new of importance. W Court adjourned at 6.30, p, m., having sat incessantly for 8^ hours. 4,{ , ; . October 22. The little boy, Peter Mailman (son of the prisoner), was brought on the stand, and some considerable time was occupied in endeavoring to ascertain if he understood the nature and solepinity of an oath. At length Mr. Kaulback very considerately allowed the boy to go without being sworn or examined, not wishing to incur any responsi- bility by putting the little fellow on oath. Jacob Baker was recalled, and made an explanation of some little unimportant statement he made the day before. John Baker, sworn — Knew of Mrs. MaUman leaving her home about two years ago. Prisoner asked me to advise her to come home. I did so ; sent little Peter in to give his mother the message. Mrs. Mailman came out and walked home vdth me. She said to me last June that, " since Peter got a lawyer's letter Peter had used me well." Have seen prisoner and his wife driving together about a year ago." Never heard prisoner say anything about his wife. iyui'><'- fii. Mary Bulliver called, (not here.) ^.Lucy Wile called, (not chosen.) Lucy Frederick called, (not present.) Magdriine Fancy called, (absent.) ,.,.'j Mrs. John Warn called, (no appearance.) James Burke, Jailor, sworn — Have heard a number of names called by counsel ; served subpoenas on all of them, had subpoena for Indian girl, but couldn't find her ; used every efibrt at desire of prisoner and couT^sel. Have seen prisoner's boots when he came to the jail, on his f ' asver examined them; no boots could come to jail without my 4 iu^.'*; know no difference between the boots the prisoner brought wjk^- \i, «•> T those he wears now ; never saw anything peculiar about eKe 'Khis ; the heels have worn off flat. Prisoner urged me to get y.'j'. i * ' ws here. Prisoner has been in jail for going on three months. . Cross-examined by Mr. Owen — ^Found the boles, the whole bottom of boots, perfectly smooth ; no heels on at all ; cannot say whether the soles were worn off or torn otf. X never wore boots done p that 29 way. Soles something thinner on the one side than on the other. Can't say these are the same boots the prisoner wore when he came to jail. Sheriff Kaulback, swom-^Testified about subpoenaing witnesses, but it had no bearing on the case. Edward Kaulback — Evidence trivial on side matters. Here evidence for defence closed. Hon. Me. Kattlback's Speech. The testimony in the case on both sides having closed at half-past one o'clock, on the 22nd October. Hon. Mr. Kaulback, Qi C, immediately commences closing defence. May it please your Lordship. — The duty, Gentlemen of the Jury» which now devolves upon me, I need hardly tell you, is undertaken under many difficulties, and with unaflfected misgivings and self-dis- trust. The task of defending a fellow-being on trial for a capital . crime, of speaking the last words in favor of his life, before a tribunal that is about to declare in favor of innocence or guilt, life or death, is enough to overwhelm the clearest intellect and oppress the stoutest heart. Any errors or imperfections on my part, either of omission or commission, are fatal beyond the reach of atonement, and without the hope of retrieval. I am fully sensibleof the awful responsibility ' resting upon me under the solemn issue you are trying — and feel con- scious of my infirmities and weakness. They did not even require the ungenerous taunts of the prosecuting officer, so often and vindictively . repeated, — that I was helping to " hang the *prisoner,'^— to make me fully aware of them. And therefore th^nore earnestly I entreat you ' — not to allow the prisoner to suffer through my faults and failings— but rather aid me in my feeble endeavors, act with me as his counsel, and give him the benefit of everything that should operate in his favor — and by so doing, the verdict you will render, and which I have a right to anticipate, at least better tend to quiet your own consci- ences through life and in death, and in sight of a scrutinizing God. Had I from the outset imagined that I was to have such an unusual and formidable array of Counsel against me, with such a striving for a conviction and a thirst for blood, I might well have shrunk from the responsibility of defending the prisoner alone and unaided, and left him to seek for stronger nerves and higher powers than I possess -—but the exigencies now of the occasion demand its fulfilment at my hands and it shall be performed to the best of my powers. Strength- ened by the convictton of an over-ruling providence above us — I " which shapes our 9nds, rough hew them how we will." And will not permit the truth to be overwhdmed or obscured through my imperfections or mistakes, and an immortal Being made in the image and after the likeness of Qt)d to be launched into eternity be- fore his time. My duties to the prisoner will soon be ended — and if ■] 80 I can only feel that tfaey have been fully and &ithfully performed, your verdict then, be it what it may, even though it be rash or unjus' tifiable» cannot be a reproach to me. I determined that as far as in me lies, the prisoner should have a fair and impartial trial, so far as the present unsatisfactory state of our criminal law will admit. That nothing should deter me from doing for him-^^all that he might fairly ^ do for himself if he could. Notwithstanding the sentiments too often expressed, that the defendant ought to have been dealt with sum- marily, — and the reproaches on hiB Counsel for defending him. Did such people forget, or did they not consider, that the impartial and £ur aaministration of the law help to maintain the law and the safety of society— and that no man under any circumstances is beyond the pale of justice or the fair a(^udication of his fellow-citizens ? I had f&ith. that the better feelings and reasoning powers of the community would in time prevail-^and that my present position would at least be respected. And I have reason, even now, to think, that at this present stage of the case, with the evidence of the trial before them—- > and made the subject of general discussion-^that a doubt has at least arisen in the pubhc mind, in which you have probably participated,-— * as to the guilt of the prisoner. ]Vl!ay you not, I most solemnly ask you, at this present moment be assuming to yourselves the powers, and invading the prerogatives of Omniscience in assuming even deliberately and in cold bJbod, by any machinery of law, to set in^ judgment upon the life of your fellow being I IWn your consciences aJ^ justify you in determining whether the life of the prisoner shall or ehall not be taken away f No such responsibility rests with me. Should your verdict be the cause of taking his Ufe, which it must, ■^— if his life is taken, in that dread hour when he struggles on the gallows and the breath of life departs his body, then, and in this life» and in death, you cannot shake ofi or escape the conscienciousness of your responsibility for that deed. And when your time shall come, and you yourselves stand before the Bar of that Being by whose will only we now live, and by whose decree only we ought to die — ^if you can reconcile your ti^ng the life of the prisoner, 'which seems so repugnant to the doctrines of the Christian religion, then let that rest between you and your God. I contend boldly that the merdful Spirit of Christ who, amid his agonies on the Cross for us, prayed for his murderers, is whdly alien to the vindictive doctrine of the death penalty. I now ask you to consider for a moment whether the prisoner has had all the privileges which should be accorded him on this trial in vindication of his innocence. The Queen's Counsel, in opening this case to you, stated what he must well have known yrns not correct, *' that the prisoner's mouth was not closed." I can ^ hardly believe that the Coupsel meant to deceive you on this point. And yet, how to reconcile audi a statement coming from him, X fna at a loss to imfigine in any oth^? ynff; than that he started with the lalse aesumptipn of Ulq guilt of the prisoner, and was bound to have ai him convicted at all hazftrd. lliia is indeed hard enough, and seemingly inconsistent with justice, that whilst in most cases in the most trivial cases a man may be r witness for himself, yet when the object of the enquiry involves hia dearest right, he is to be manaoled, led to the dock, and compelled there to be silent, whilst his.Hfe is being sworn away. This is not all. I ask you to consider some of the many other unfounded statements made by the Counsel, which he could not sustun, even did not venture to prove, such as " That the prisoner ran into the woods," " That he never made any search or enquiry for the deceased,'' " That he made a fire for a decoy," " That he told a party the very identical spot where she was found." Tou cannot but remember that all this was stated to you. I took the words down exactly as they were spoken, and yet, as I have already said, not one tittle of evidence has been brought to sustain either one of these unjustifiable asseitions, although the Counsel had and has entire command of the public purse of the County to prove them if he was able, and by means of which every witness that could be scraped up, and that could or would in any way give evidence against the prisoner^ has been or will be paid, whilst the unfortunate prisoner, without a cent at his command, or credit for a sixpence, is obliged to get counsel (not paid out of the public exchequer) as best he is able. He is shut up in prison! debarred himself of tne privilege of looking after witnesses, without being able to see any one who would interest him- self in that behalf, n»'inoney to procure subpoenas or the service of them on witnesses, — no public money to be procured for that object. His Counsel obliged to put witness after witness in the box without knowing what one of them could state on oath, and more than all, not one half of the witnesses who were subpoenaed who were called by the crier, and whom I had a right to believe could have given very material evidence in favor of the prisoner, have appeared in the court. And yet more the extreme indigence of this poor man and his helpless condition, prevented him from obtaining witnesses from the adjoining county. Those who undertook and promised him to see that they were here, miserably failed in its performance. All this has been shown, proved, or stated in evidence to you, and I now deliberately state to you my belief and conviction, that had we here the parties named, froui Greywood, they could giye you in evidence facts and circum- stances that ought to convince you that the prisoner not only did not go there to escape from detection, but had made plans and arrange- ments to return on the Tuesday following with his children. The time I hope will arrive when such a state of things as this presented pould not exist ; but I ask you now, as it does exist, tc say by your verdict, that this man's life shall not be taken away* That he should have the same privileges and advantages as if he w^m the richest man in the county — that he should have the same means of Counsel and procuring of evidence and attendance of witnesses as jis possessed by the Crown, failing all this, as is now clear to you, poula you* under 82 such circumstances, find the prisoner guilty ? "What a mockery to call this iiistice, and under such a state of things even to ask you to Bit in judgment 1 It might do if we were living in the times and under the laws of Moses, when it was death for everything without Sriviloge of Counsel, but cbHainly it ought not to do in our present ay in this stage of the Christain era. The whole tenor and spirit of Christ's doctrine teaches a new and affectionate connection between the Great Father and his imperfect children, and bring light and immort- ality to light ! while the Jews, until Soloman's time, had no knowledge of the immortality of the soul, and knew but imperfectly the great at- tributes of God as the Eternal Almighty all merciful Father of men and angels. Wefind in holy history that Cain the first murderer not only was pardoned but was also protected from punishment by express decree of Jehovah. But I may be reminded of a passage in the Old Testa- men^j. which says " who sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." This passage I think has often been misconstrued. It is obvious that it is not couched in the words of a comTarnd— as it does not say " Thou shalt slay the homicide or murderer" — but rather states the natural consequences of a murder in the vengeance of the kinsmen and friends of the victim. But search the New Testament and find me one passage if you can for any authoiiity for man to take away by any proeei^s or for any cause the life of man. Is it not rather repugnant to and inconsistent with Christ's religion, his mission, death and resurrection for any of us to take part or lot in sending a soul to meet its God — before the time the Groat Supreme has decreed for its departure. Implore Divine aid that with singleness of heart, in the spirit of mercy, humbly following the precepts and examples of your blessed Saviour — you may come to a right judgment. And by his Cross and by his Crown, by all his love and all his power may He be with you in that awful, that solemn hour, when you retire to your room — then with Divine light within you and around you. The pri- soner can wait for your reappearance before him, with your decree, which he feels confident will set him free. I must now revert to another painful part of this trial — with all the accumulation of public opinion centered upon the prisoner, he is placed in the criminal dock, witnesses are let loose against him-:-the iprincipal ones disclosing, by their own evidence of their own charac- ters, such a scene of immorality and profligacy as perhaps never has been exposed in any Court. Even the daughter of the accused comes before you manifesting from the outset the most deep and bitter hatred against her father — go wanton was her conduct, so openly and shame- fully manifested, portraying such an abandonment of every human feeling, that you can co^© *o no other concluision, but that she is pos- sessed of no rabral principle sufRcient to restrain her from swearing away the life of her &ther, if his life stood in the way of her keeping up the illicit intercourse which Exists between her and that other pbominable character, the chief witness against the prisoner, Albert 33 Mailman. Upon the ovidonce of these two God-forsaken characters this case maioJy rests. Creatures vile and debased enough to be the perpetrators of" any crime — even of that, which by their oaths, they seek to fasten upon the prisoner at the bar— un whom they have already brought such reproach and disgrace by their open and noto- rious sin. The witnesses introduced on the part of the Crown seemed influenced by prejudice and a fooling to determine everything adversely to the prisoner — with such feelings is it not reasonable, am I not right in saying, that many parts of their ovidonce has been exaggerated, if not simply imagined? They all seemed inclined to state things as facts -—which were only their own inferences. In this way and by such a class of witnesses many an innocent person has lost his and her life. When a person can testify to a fact directly there can be little or no chance of error— but when, as in this case, the Crown seeks to convict of the crime of murder, by striving to prove in advance certain other facts and circumstianccs, which may be true or false, and those purely by inferences, each of which are open to the greatest error, to prove that the prisoner coin- mitted this crime ; then I think it is high time for you to stop, pause and well consider, if by such a process you will take away lite. You all know how easy it is to err, and your owh experience will fiho^ that each of you have frequently drawn incorrect inferences from facts j but in this case you cannot even say you have the facts from which to draw infprences, because, as 1 nave shown you, and will yet show you, that the witnesses, on whose testimony the Crown relied, and the principal facts are based, are, to say the least, not worthy of belief. But putting the case in the Worst light, and even admitting, if necessary, for sake of argument, that the prisoner is, guilty, that you have not the slightest doubt of his guilt, yet if the proof now before you in evidence does not come up to the legal stand- ard and requisitions of the law, you are bound to acquit, the law pre- sumes him innocent, he comes before you as such, you must Qonnrm the law or take the responsibility of convicting him on evidence of the very worst character, such as never has and never can be made certain, but of which, on the contrary, history records, many sad innocent lives being sacrificed. Bon 't, I implore you,, risk adding another to that dreadful catalogue, and thereby risk your own peace of mind and the wrath of offended justice by usurping, the powers of Divine Majesty and the attributes of Jehovah by sitting in judgment on the life of your fellow being, and attempt to unveil a mystery known only to God himself 1 Who did or did not commit this crime God only knows. Oh, with my last words I would implore you all to re-echo back from your jury box these words,'^" Qod only hnows " — leave it to heaven. " Judgment is mine,. I will repay," — so saith the Lord. Then through the mists and obscurities which surrounded this case, mercy will have triumphed over wrath.. No glovKng horrors will darken your path by day or disturb yout sleep by night, and 3 I fl4 wlicn you sink and fail, and all your years arc fled, and your day of work 18 over, you will depart hence in peace and with a conscience clear, that not one drop of this man's blood will rise up in judgmont against you. Now, let me for a little while draw your attention to law of pre- sumption, or circuniAtantial evidence, and dwell with me whilst I apply it to this case. Phil. Ev. 458, 8th Ed., says : — " Circumstantial evidence ought to bo acted on with great caution, especially when an anxiety is naturally felt for the detection of a great crime. This anxiety often leads witnesses to mistake or exaggerate facts, and juries to draw rash inferences. There is also a kind of pride or vanity felt in drawing conclusions from a number of isolated facts, which is apt to deceive the judgment. Not unfreqiiently a presumption is formed from circumstances which would not exist as a ground of crimination, but for the accusation itself: such are the conduct, demeanor, and expressions of a suspected person when scrutinised by those who suspect him. And it may bo observed that circumstantial evidence, which must in general be submitted to a court of justice through the moans of witnesses is capable of being perverted in like manner as direct evidence, and that moreover it is subjected to this additional infirmity that it is composed of inferences, ejfch of which may be falacious." % (Here the Counsel explained at considerable length the above prin- ciples, their effect on the case before the jury, and the presumption of innocence to be drawn. Ho then cited several instances of presump- tion of innocence from Roscoe's criminal law, and then «_ xplained the great differences in the rules and nature of evidence and modes of proof in criminal cases from those cases m which life and liberty are not involved. He then cited McNally in his rules of evidence on pleas of the Crown, page 678 : " Everything is a doubt in a civil case, where the jury weigh the evidence, and having at;uck a fair balance, decide according to the weight of evidence. This, however, is not the rule in criminal cases, for it is an established maxim, that the jury are not to xveufh the evidence, but in case of doubt to acquit the prisoner.") I have endeavored, gentlemen, thus far to indoctrinate you with the law and the rules and mode by which you must apply it* I will not weary you with a reflection, but ask you particularly to remember that your duty is not to weigh the ervidence, no matter how weighty it is on the part of the Crown, 'f you find one particle of it on the side of the prisoner you must acquit him, or you will violate the solemn obligation Under which you are empannelled. The Counsel, in opening to you, stated that " circumstantial evidence \^as stronger and more reliable than direct evidence of the crime," tfnd endeavored to sustain it hy extracts read from no book, but from a piece q£ paper he h^ld in his hand, atid when I asked him for his authorities, he failed to give them. This, of itself, ought to have made you to suspect that ihi law he gave you was not to be trusted. 35 U I )ly it» rly to ^ rhow ■X ( of it ■f; folate ^ The ') e was *'• " tfnd 'j" jfrom 1 or his hftvc ustedf and that the foundation and principles on which he sought to gain a verdict from you wore unreliable, and could not fitand the test and scrutiny of (>npo.sing counsel . Mark ray conduct in this respect. Ho certain was I of the law Hustnining my case that I brought ray books and authorities, and invited cither of the opposite Counsel to gainsay ony position 1 took and established by the best criminal jurists. Was it not, is it not, an insult to your common sense, to be told that thii kind of evidence is better than direct evidence ? I feel sure you have already determined, and do not require anything further from me to confirm your belief that it is a species of evidence the most wretched, falacious, and inconclusive. If this kind of evidence is so certain and reliable, how, in heaven's name, is it, that our books and tflo records of criminal law and history every where show, even in flngland, where every thing seems to be brought to the very pitch of perfection of which human nature with its endowment is capable, such melancholy masses of cases determined under this kind of evidence, in which it has not only failed to do justice, but innocence has fallen a sacrifice. Divine Justice violated and social murder committed by dragging the innocents to the scafl^old and there launching them into eternity. Again, I would ask, how is it that if this kind of evidence is so reliable and better than direct evidence, that you cannot find a case in which a person has been unjustly hanged wholly on direct evidence, whilst so many thousands have been unjustly hanged wholly on circumstan- tial evidence? Again, I would ask you, how is it if this kind of evidence is so very reliable as the Counsel in his opening was anxious * to impress you that it was, and the facts so very conclusive, that his conscience forced him to tell you " that his guilt mflst bo the only rational conviction " f Strange as this appears coming from the Crown Officer, yet you can come to no other conclusion from what he said, than that although he pressed strongly for a conviction, yet he was anxious to relieve his own conscience from the responsibility of it, and that he had not, could not possibly have, perfect confidence in either the infalibility of the law or the evidence.. Judges also have frequent- ly been found cautioning juries in the same way, and asking them not to place too much reliance on this kind of evidence. May you not, then, well be cautious when you are thus cautioned? Your minds might bo completely convinced of the prisoner's guilt, and yet he be not guilty. If every man is considered innocent until ho is proved guilty, and such is the law, how can you declare him guilty without proof? In no case is circumstantial evidence proof. The law does not call it proof, but at least only presumption. How can you, then, without proof, find the prisoner guilty ? Conviction won't do ; you must have before you positive, uncontrovertible testimony. Well may you follow the Crown Counsel and force yourselves from the awhil rssponsibility, under such circumstances, of presuming to find him guilty and taking his life. I will now shew you some few of the many shocking case^ where .1 S6 ^^x■ innocent men and women's lives have been taken away by tbis wretched and most fallible of all human testimony. In each case the jury, of course, being couvinced beyond a reasonable doubt that the prisoner was guilty, and each case being pregnant with the essential element, a motive for committing tbe crime, and hence much stronger than the case now before you. 2 Hale, P. C. 190, (n) gives this case : " An uncle who had the bringing up of his niece, to whom he was heir at laiv, corrected her for some offence, she was heard to say, ' Oood uncle, do not kill me ! ' after which she could not be found. The uncle was committed on suspicion of haviiig murdered her, r*nd was admonishfd by the judge of the assize to find out the child by the next assizes. Being unable to discover jis niece, he brought another child dressed Uke his niece and resembling her in person and in years, but upon examination the fraud was discovered, and upon the pre- sumption of guilt which these circurastan as afforded, he was found guilty and executed. The chiW aiierwards re-appeared, when of age, to claim her land. On being beaten by her uncle, she had run away and had been received by strangers." In the same book, page 289 ; A horse was stolen from A. The same day B was found upon and arrested on presumption that he stole him, and was tried, condemned, and executed. Within two assizes afterwards, C, being apprehend- ed for another robbery, and convicted, when about being executed, h| confessed that he was the man who stole the horse, and being cfosely^ursued, desired B, a stranger, to walk, bis horse for him whilst he turned aside upon a necessary occasion, and escaped, B was apprehended with the horse and died innocently. There is another case which I had under my hand, but cannot just turn to. It is substantially this : Where a man was seen running out of a house with a bloody weapon and thereupon a person was found dying in the room of the house from wounds such as coiUd have been made by the weapon. The party fleeing not being able to account for the murder, he was convicted* Bash's criminal cases, 282 : Cowper was tried for the murder of Miss Stout, and an appeal was entered. The evidence was, that he often stopped at her house ; that there was an improper intimacy between them ; that ho was there with her on the evening previous to her body being found in the rivw, and that they both went out of the house together that night. Circum- stances subsequently went to show that she drowned herself. The cases are so numerous of erroneous convictions and innocent life taken on circumstantial evidence, that I cannot waste my strength or occupy your time with particulars of them — must content myself in giving you some cases without comment. John Hawkins and Geo. Simpson executed in 1722 for robbing the mails. Thomas Harris innocently hanged for the murder of James Gray on the road from York to Newcastle. 1642. A girl for shooting her imcle at Leige, in 1764, John#!Flemings executed at Hull for a highway robbery in 1742, James Crow alias Thomas Giddey executed at York for burglary. 87 1727. John Miles executed at Exeter for murder of Wm. Ridley. Jonathan Bradford executed at Oxford for murder of Christopher Hayes, 1736. Wm. Shaw executed at Edinburgh for the murder of his daughter in 1721. John Stumger convicted of the mirder of his yyifo in 1765, at Kingston, in the County of Surrey. These are some few of the many known cases recorded where the inLocent have been convicted and sentenced to death, and of the multitude of cases in- numerable of human beings who, under some one machinery or another of human devising have unjustly been called on to render up their lives. Will you risk adding this man to the list and have your names forever recorded as the parties who deliberately and in cold blood convicted him and that on mere presumption, not proof? I will not be convinced that you will thus stain your hands in his blood. Oh, rather let the ocean of innocent blood already shed of all those who have departed hence by the same machinery by which this man's life is threatened — and will one day appear with you before the Bar of an offended God — plead with you for the prisoner. Oh! let the sight of his dear, helpless little children — whom you now see clinging with their arms around his neck — and whom ho embraces so tenderly plead for him. They have lost a mother, how, is known only to God — would you deprive them now of a father's love and a father's protection ? Nearly all of you aire fathers. Oh, let all the natural feelings of afiec- tion, tenderness and care which you have for your children plead not only for their hupultMs father but for his dear little ones, whol^should your verdict be adverse, would be rendered helpless orphans — cast ^ ^ upon the care of a cold, pitiless woiHd, with no other identity than. '* The children of Mailman the murderer" If you have one tender cord of love and affection — you must be touched by this living picture before you. Yovj cannot lose sight of it. You cannot forget it — until your sight fails and your memory ceases. Then may the part you have taken in this trying and painful matter, fill your souls with comfort, and your end will be peace. Had I not felt the danger of wearying you, I would have gone through every one of the list of cases, and shown you that each and every one was stronger than the one you now try, that in every case of homicide but one — not only was the body found — but yet \, more on each and every of the cases there were apparently strong, very strong reasons for the juries to infer a motive or probable cause which might have urged the prisofter to commit the alleged crime. In every one of those cases each of you might reasonably have fallen into • the same error — sad and awful as the thought would have been to you after^varda. They must now be your monitors in this case * — and if you then come to a rash and unmerciful \ erdict — the greater will be your guilt. 2 Starke's Ev. 521 2 ed., lays it dovm that in all cases of circumstantial evidence it is essential that there should be a probable motive. He says " For however strongly other circumstances may weigh against the prisoner, it is but reason- U-iL-V^tcJ^ 38 V^ able in a case of doubt to expect some motive, and that a strong one, should be assigned as his inducement to commit an act from which our nature is abhorrent and the consequences of which is usually so fatal to the criminal." Now where is the motive in this case ? No motive has been assigned by the Counsel, the cafe for the crown has failed, and the essential clement is wanting. I ch<\lleuged the Counsel from the beginning. I repeated it in my opening address to you, and I now again ask them to point out any immediate preceding cause for this act. Judge Peter Mailman's conduct, gentlemen, with common sense, as you would judge of other men's conduct. I shall not fear leading you carefully through all the evidence, which we will do shortly, and to ask you to seek in that evidence for some proof of even a natural motive or ordinary incentive which operated on th© mind of the prisoner, and impelled him to the commission of this act. Remember throughout this trial and when determining on your ver- dict, that the last law-book I quoted from said " that some motive and that a stromj one should be assigned." You may search through the annals of crime in vain to find anything so monstrously absurd as that a man in his senses in the blaze of the noon-day sun would in the sight and hearing of his children and neighbours, take his wife away deliberately with intent to murder her, and then afterwards for days drive about proclaiming the absence of the victim. Could he have persuaded her to ford and reford that river for «ny purpose or to go voluntarily into that swamp. No human comprehension could grasp any reasonable motive for the act. No human eye saw tlie act committed — and it is the most unnatural thing possible to imagine that any man however wicked would kill his wife under the circum- stances, and in the way this is attempted to be fa^ened on the pri- soner. The question has been often asked, — m ho did it — if he did not? Well, hard and crUel enough as the law now is — yet it does not impose such a burden on us — even if the prisoner knew — it could not be proved by his evidence. He has given me his suspicions ; even those I have no right to relate to you — they would be no evi- dence — how monstrous then to ask us to account for the deceased. And if we do not do so and cannot do so, is tbat any reason why you should hang the man ? Yea, monstrous as this iS; — ^yet when th© case has failed from its inherent weakness for lack of the proof or oven the assignment of a motive, the counsel would eeem inclined to throw the whole case back upon us and ask us to prove the pri- soner innocent. We were again asked to show why he ran away to Greywood. I am now glad that question was asked, for it gives but another proof that the Crown Counsel has failed in his case. It was the duty of Counsel first to prove that he fled there for fear of detection — or at least he fled there — before the accused could be asked to account for it. You have a right to require of the Crown the best proof that is possible to get. You are not to tako inferior proof. Why I most 39 IP seriously ask were not tke parties fi'om Grey wood brought here by the Queen's Counsel — they certainly would have been the best witnesses — the Crown failed to produce them — affords a presumpi-ve yes, and that a legal presumption, that their testimony would not be favorable to his case — and therefore I ask you to dismiss at once from your minds the story of flight — and I urge this the more earnestly upon you after the efforts shown to you, that the accused made to get the parties here. The crown was in duty bound also to have subpoened the two children, and not have left it to the accused — why exhibit that depraved girl — and keep back the little children? The object was too apparent— and cannot be satisfactory to you. Every list of evidence favorable to the prisoner that could be excluded was kept from you — and what we did get was obtained with difficulty — after a great strug- gle with the opposing Counsjl. Was it fair or just that anything should be kept that could have aided you in coming to a right judg- ment. I call on you therefore to view favorably to the prisoner, — this extraordinary struggle on the part of Crown. Take care that each of you are entirely divested of any such feeling — remembering that a man may be guilty of murder in the sight of God, — who has • never pulled a trigger or raised his arm with malicious intent. Ee- flect seriously on this, one and all of you — neither of you can shift ; your burthen to your neighbor's shoulders — each of you will have one day to account for himself — each of you are individually responsible for your verdict here — not one of you dare yield up your own con- science when established in favor of acquital ! I ask you also to find if you can, any evidence to convince you that the prisoner had malice in his heart against his wife, any feeling that could possibly prompt him tp commit the crime alleged. You must certainly fe«l the weakness of this part of the case. Mind, human life is too precious to be periled by presumption on this point. No expressions of hatred or malice escape the prisoner's lips or show themselves in his countenance. If the CrOwn could have proved anj itnmediate provocation — on the contrary, we not only find him speak- in the best husbandlike terms of her before and after she was missing, but we find them continuously, particularly the last year, up to the time of her death, walking together, driving together, eating together, sleeping together, and living together, as man and wile should. Look at their last frugal repast — that mid-day meal, with their child- . ren around them — the natural, homely, and affectionate conversation, ■ \' with the talk by the little one of berry picking, and the husband and ' wife planning the drive to Bridgewater the following day, as they had the day previous ! Oh, yes ! look at that natural, homely, loving picture, and say, dare you, from your hearts, say that he had then plMined her destruction, or even that within two hours afterwards ho had taken her life ! You cannot say it. Your own conscience must drive you from such a conclusion, and the sequel, then, is that you must find him not guilty. I feel great joy in the assurance that there i ! 40 1!;: f ft '■-■'. is nothing in the testimony which convicts the defendarat of having bo black a heart as he must have possessed to have committed the crime. Had it been otbeiwise, I could not have defended the prisoner in the manner I have done. And now, with the testimony in my hands, I hope to draw from you a full, entire, and unhesitating acquital. Here the Counsel read some extracts from Eoscoe, on presumptions and proof of malice and presumptions generally — applying them to this case. And then entered upon a very elaborate review and com-^'^ mentary of the evidence. He commenced by saying — that in capital cases prisoner's Counsel frequently deem it their duty, as it was their privilege, not only to closely scan and scrutinise the evidence — but to comment on the character and conduct of witnesses, and lay bare their falsehoods with a freedom which would not be seemly in ordinary cases. He very fearlessly discharged that duty, avoiding everything that was not justified by the evidence. His chief aim was to con- vince their understandings, showing why the main witnesses ought not to bo believed — the meagreness of the evidence and the failure of many important links in its chain. (We cannot attempt to follow the Counsel in his searching review,* and severe and scathing comments on the witnesses and evidence — no*? thing the most trivial escaped him — and where he found or imagined he found inconsistency or inaccuracies — he hung to them and dwelt upon them and repeated them and went over them again, determined if possible that they should not be lost sight of by the jury. — The first witness Daniel Carver was passed over with but little notice — the Counsel saying in substance as follows : — This witness testifies that he saw Mrs. Mailman put up the lro*««^s — not prisoner as sworn by Angelina. Witness did not see Mrs. Mailman leave the bouse with prisoner — although was as near as the daughter was, and could as readily see first. Saw Vi«m return from direction of chopping, about 3 o'clock — had nothiite vdth hir; ihat I saw. If prisoner had been an active man he would have made the burning or clearing be-i fore. It was an extension of his clearing. I am a neighbour. Pri- soner nevor did any one any harm that I know of. This the first witness contradicts and sets forever at rest the improper and un- founded statements made by Counsel in opening, viz i — *' That the prisoner had made a fire in the woods simply as a decoy — and that he put up the hens — and at least, leayes more than a doubt as to pri- soner and wife leaving home together and his returning with a basket or axe — (Mr. Creighton here interrupted — imputing a perversion of evidence — to which sharp retorts were given. Defendant's Counsel referring to the evidence to justify his statements.) '!" Next witness, Angelina Mailman — Counsel brought a terrible string of accusations, occupied over an hour with her. We can only give the pith of it. He ai^ked jury to remember the boldness and levity viith which she came to the witness box. The irreverent manner in 41 which she took the oath regardless of its sacred dutiea and responsi- bilities, the evident bias with which she testified saying " hanging was too good for him." Her restless manner, her eyes wandering restlessly about, — her confusion, then her bold and quick answers, and again her reservations, contradictions, refusals to answer, and utter want of all decent deportment — and thus when they considered her evidence that no reliance could be placed on her testimony. That the life of a cat should not be taken on the evidence of such a wretch. 8he says on direct examination, that she and children were by Michael De- mone's fence when they saw father and mother leave with the axe and basket, and on cross-examination says they were then at Fancy leaker's fence — that they were over quarter mile away — and yet she could see prisoner lock up the house, and could identify the axe at that distance to be his axe — and she swears to the basket at that distance, and gives as a reason because they had only one basket in the house, — says Albert Mailman came direct from his house and not from direction her mother was found — and then on cross-examination swore she did not know where he came from, that she did not see him until he came into the house — when he opened the door. Direct examination says she at once thought he had done something to her — and on cross- examination says " I believed she was at Ben Baker's,'' until Baker came for her on Thursday. She said he frequently beat mother — and on cross-examination says 'twas more than a year ago since he beat her. On the cross-examination she swears positively that *' he killed her mother with, the axe he brought home " — when she did not know that he brought any axe home. She then sweacs she did not from the first believe her mother had gone to Baker's — whilst on her direct examination she sw^pshthat she did not expect anything until Baker came on Thursday and said she was not at his place. Kefused answering whether she had any improper intercourse with Albert Mailman — but said she did not sleep w^lyhim. She denies that they planned one day at dinner, to go to Bn(^ewator together next day, that her mother told her that Baker had asked uer to come and reap. Her deposition before Justice of Peace shown to her— again denies its truth — deposition read to her — says she never said so, that she never swore so— that the paper is false. After showing up other incon- sistencies — Counsel again declared her a perjured wretch — who had deliberately come there to swear her father's life away-t-so that she might the better revel in her infamy — that she had also sworn false about the axe and the calico skirt. Counsel then painted her in the blackest and most revolting colors — beneath the human — beneath brutes of the lowest type. Devils would be pure compared with her. He had given her an opportunity to vindicate her character and re- putation — she was silent and refused to answer the questions. The jury could not condemn prisoner on her testimony. She was not human — had no instincts of humanity. Supposing she even believed him guilty — had she no paternal feelings — no latent afiection for him 42 who had cared for and cherished her in the days of her helpless in- fancy — oh no ! she had nothing in her now — no sense of responsibility to God or man. She had a human form ; beside that, everything, her highest instincts, seemed not equgl to the level of domesticated brutes.) Mr. Kaulback proceeds in the review : Joseph Baker's evidence is of little importance — further than findr ing and identifying the body — which facts are not in dispute. Other- wise I should be disposed to comment on his conduct with greater freedom than i? my present purpose. Eemember he says that the tracks wer'j tv ' rined, they made a clear impression — that he and Uhlman looked V/articularly at them — saw nothing particular about them, no marks of nails. Saw a tree cut on Eastern side and crossed the river — saw no tracks until they came near the swamp. Eemem- ber he does not say tJiat they traced the tracks on the western side of the stream, as far o; '^t ir,. Jcs went. It was very important for the Crown to show that. vo i\ , "ng dop.e so — you having a right to assume that the tracks dio u ', • tb«re — or at all events that the witness never look.'d for i,ii..m — .'lai *h they did not even snbpoeim a witnes* to anything by which you might infer it. It was a malicious chafge made by his daughter, which she even shrank from confirming by her oath, whilst the prisoner had subpoenaed the very woman against whom insinuations were cast. Prisoner's conduct after his wife's absence was quite naturai; n©Y falsehoods proved uttered by him, which are the common subterfuge* , of guilt ; no irreconcilable statements, no after circumstances manir| feating the motive of the cHwe ; nothing in his look, gesture or man-'; ner which discloses a disturbed state of mind, a sense of guilt ; no; words^ before her absence, as of anger, vengeance, hatred, or malice > nothing afterwards but frank, open conduct, no desire to conceal any-' thing ; no timidity, no fears, no cowardice, such as guilt would natur- ally force on him. Such as you see him now he has been since he was incarcerated. Nothing but a firm sense of innocence could have^ sustained him throughout his confinement, and in this sad hour of hi» tiial ; manifestjjig even now no fear su^ as guilt would have forced! ^ frcm him. His tears may flow as they often have flowed when think^ ing of his bdreavemQ!ji<->. That his character i» uxumpeachable and has> stood the tciit here, cannot now he doubted. That he is of gentle disposition you oannot doubt, as you now see with hie attefntion fixed (mus! See how ^naturally nad tenderly he caresses his dear littler children, so long deprived of his care and protection I Is this put on ' for effect, to enlist your sympathy ? - Oh no, every part of it is nar^ tural and earnest, such as they hav«, felt and to which they have been- accustomed. Don't' rend asunder such love and.su<^ tenderness! Such acts speak more forcibly of prisoner's gentle disposition than any words of mine. On the evidence of thousands such chairacters a» Albert and Angelina Mailmaij^ I say it, and say it confidently, that you ca¬ determine that prisoner did) of malice dbrethougbt, eomr mit the act. He declares his insvooeace, tmd all the presumption of fact and law, I have clearly shown, Are in his favor. Even admitting, he did it, it must havb been, could ha?» been« nothing else than a fit. of! iaaanity; reason must have been dethroned, and powers of mind gone, and. he not responsible for conseq^oncep. Thwefbre, under any circumstances, you must find him not guilty. ^ 1 fai'ledf; neigh- i, could amour > circum- »ay the ; 9 many will he^ jrtainljT r loved-^ ble way* javoredr failed > , 1 might ich she- ler had re cast*? 'di ; no, terfuge' mani' •r man^ ilt; no malice > al auy" nature nee he hav* of hij» breed t ihink^ ndhsM' gentle fixed littler )ut oa • is na-- beeii rness! thatb ^rsaa that com- on of itting. a fit mind rany I have shown to you that the c}iaracter of the evidence is .unreliably ftnd bad ; have shown you case after case where by such evid^ence tlie innocent have suilPered death. They teach you a solenm lesson ; they warn you to be cautious ; remind you of the errors of others situated as you now are; on whom like responsibilities had devolved. If you shut your eyes on all this» and set your consciences now ag^nst right i^upressions, let the sin rest on your own heads ! I have withheld nothing from you, have labored and pleaded earnestly and long for the life of a brother man, under a deep sense of right and duty ; I nOw see and feel many ftilings on my part, too late to remedy ; but my weakness and shortcomings only add so much the loore to your riBuponsibilities— see to it, that you fail not ! If your verdict to-dajT be not in accord with justice, mercy, ajjd your consciences, to-morrow will be too late to amend it. Then what awful feelings will possess you when you see this man struggling on the gallows 1 But that will not terminate your remorse; your mind wm be tortured with it through life ; you will not free yourself of it in death,, but carry it with you before the Judge Eternal, who "loveth mercy, and forgives iniquity, transgressions and sin.*' May your judgment to-day be in accordance with the judgpaent vou aU hope for, when you will stand, with prisoner, before the bar of God. Then you will five happy, and die in peace. I have urgea you by the laws of man and by tlie evi- dence that you come to no verdict l;hat will send this man to the scaffold. Tahe no such cowsej He Has a soul to save, a probation to perform to his Maker : do not interfere with the overruling provi- dence of God» Not a sparrow falls to the ground without His ^con- sent. If the death of this wonian is yet to remain a secret, as it now is, in God's good time the guilt will be brought to ligtt, and the guilty punished. Pause ere it be too liate ! Don't be too wise in your own conceit. Don't attempt to fathom this mystety or assume the powers of Omniscience. T^ke Christ as yoiur example and guide, and stop whilst there is time 1 Bead His Sermon on the Mount, and take care and take waminglest in your attempt to root up the tares you root up the wheat ! X«3, take this oook you haVe kissed, by which you must be governed here, if you seek for happiness hereafter— read and learn of Christ yoiir duty now; follow Hirn from His cradle to' His cross ; feel your solemn responsibility, and by your consdences and your oaths try the prisoner ; and let your verdict be such as \\iir vindicate the majesijf ,oi eternal truth, and, upholcl the sacred daiiise of justice ! Look each c^ yoii at the accused : his all tljis side thie giftaVe; ie now in your keeping* The stake is too greiat for liim to put' cOiafl- dence in man, or any body of men I No wofds of mine caji elcnress his feelings. Itemember ,fle is our brother by jGl^od's creation, finals a spiritual and immortal b^ing. Xoo^ jftt hi§ dear little, children, iTet tnem now plead with you! Sunddr not, I implore you, the &tfee^ from these dear hdlpless ones, hanging 90 affectionately on hiin, who, b^ their acts, implore his^ j^oteotion j^d parol Let "bis- necessilm 6*2" ftUd tribulation plead with, you, acnd'xiiay you be relieved frdm all pte- judice and hardness of heart I Tnisi not on your own wisdom : seek jDiyine light, and pray that your verdict may be but the voice of God speaking through you. Eem^ber the angel of death may now be aiflong us^^that either of us may b« within a stjep of eternity ! Then, when time has run itscoiirse, your work done here, and in death you sink and fail, and your dim eyes toll vainly round , on the things of time, and your houf s, have fled, may yotir mercifiil and right verdict to-day support you in your last hours, cheer you through the desert road, the Talley of death, to that thirone and jiidgment seat, before ^hich you anii prisoner — ^yes, all of us, njust appear and answer for our actions here ! llTiere will, be no mystery or doubt there 1 Oh, in mercy, I implore yotj, leive all doubts to God, and that judgment d^y. , .'.5?he tesiilt I now commit to your hands. To jrou, in all confi4ence, I confidj^ the interests oi my cUdnt, imploring you, by the helpless condition of the prisoner, by the lore you bear to those who are dear to you, by the hopes you plant bej'^ond the graye-r^to mark your judg- ; jittent witH inerey I " ; ' ', , i ?.'^ C .' Mr. Kftulback closed a little before 2 p.m., liaying occupied about ( 1|Bn hours in his address. This was one of the most elaborate Jury 'addresses on record. The Counsel exhausted every means in his power, Oil behalf of the prisoner, and ahook ft-oin his skirts any re- sponsiisility that adhered to hiiji as Cpunsel for the defence. "We cheerfully render Mr. Kaulbaek the credit due to his strenous efforts, gratuituously made on behalf of his unfortunate client. Though giiilty, abomis^bdy. heniously guilt;y, it wis only in accordance vrith the geniiis of our laws that his case should be fully presented. i-? i)',l_S I ' fjo'l'f t>b W^ H. OwxH, B8ve his fine forensic effort in full;, , as it is, the reader must be cdti- ti^.wi^ih a ^?ri§f synopsis, time Mt^iddmg the Wi^gthy report which JD^hVott^ervi^^ ^ve wijn olitained.) , ',;-'(/ Jdr. Owen D«aui by in^^ating that he ifolt t&e flulrf'nnposed upoa Ctr ,^ nci') hym, as painful as any he had ever jbeen called upon to perform. He was by no means desirous to taking the prisoner a life — far be it from his thoughlmo imbue his h^nds in the bloc d of an innocent victim ! But the rigid and impartial administration of our laws, demanded that guilt and crime should have no palliation — that in our peaceful and pappy land the murderer should be brought to justice and made to JCeel the rigor of those laws which his enormous crime had wantonly outraged. If the prisoner at the bar was innocent, he hoped he would be set free; if the jury could reconcile his innocence with the over- whelming cloud of.evider^ce that had been produced against him, then b^ all means let their verdict be for acquittal I But, though it pained him to say so, he was convinced that the evidence given ir. this cse pointed irresistibly to the prisoner as the murderer of his wife — he chain of circumstances seemed complete. Not a link was wanting, each successive day of the tHal had OTOUght its fresh mass of damning testimony, and if the jury believed, as he conceived thJp must believe that the prisoner, and he alone, h^d done th® horrible deed, then in- deed, should they act fearlessly^ as their duty to the community, and our laws demanded, anji allow no idle sentiment to deter them from the strict administration of justice. The counsel for the prisoner had endeavoured to terrify them with hojrrid pictures of a felpn's death. But did he forget the no Ibss horrid, and still more revolting picture of his ^'ijtim's doom f Let them think for one moment of that scone in the woods ! The poor wife with eloped hands, appealing in tones of the deepest pity, ^r life. " Spare ! Oh spare I" she cries to the man who had vowed to love wid protect her, — the man whose lot she had agreed to follow, — the man whom sh^ called her l^isband ! But the relentless monstejc is unmoved by her shrieking entreaties, apd her piteous prayers, tjut oises the hand to strike the fatal blow ! Let them not be blind ^ i^s terrible scene, and let them see to jt thiit justice be not perverted, or the guilty i^oam at large, and our laws are _^sulted, and its decrees violated with impunity ! The learned coimsel then reviewed briefly and concisely the entire evidence, shewing a dear bhain of cirpumstances, pointing with unew- ing finger, and irresistible Ibrce to the prisoner. He made reference to the more pertinent objections of the prisoner's counsel, and showed l^ow easily they coy^^ he reconciled', ana how immaterial were all the inaccuraqiee, and how fhrivial and uniipportant were the contradictory and conflicting poiiiits. I'his was not a difiicult task. The counsel had unquestionably a strong case, and h^ succeeded in, prenqn^^ ^ith great force ana oortvindng clearness. . .j\. He concluded something as fqllows: "If the learned Counsel for the prisoner felt his duty a painful and responsible one, I assqre yott, gentlemen, I han^e felt mine none less so. I have not sought to take this man's life. I have ^erer ' thirsted for hia blood.* I have been accused of actii;ig in t^iis capacity fi)r the 9ake of money : gentlemen, let me say I haVe had no such motive* The learned Queen's Coun- 64 i I- rill i III: Bbl, feeling that this case was likely to be a long ahd trying one, asked me to assist him, and in consideratior of his ag^l consented to do so, but I neither want«nor shall I take a penny for my efforts. I have been guided only by the desire to bring the guilty to juntice, and vindicate the majesty of our laws. If after the evidence you have heard, you can believe the prisoner innocent of the charge against him, then by all means acquit him. Par be it firom my mind that the innocent should be sacrificed ! But, gentlemen, if you are convinced that he and none other committed this horrible deed, by your verdict assert the power of our laws, and, in any case, do your duty ! Act honestly and fearlessly, and. everybody then will be satisfied \^h your verdict, be it for the acquittal or the condemnation of this manl** ^T' 1i' dsniT] ■iMo'i^- ^^^ Judge's Chabqi. '*' His Lordsmp commenced his charge at 3.45. I have often seen Judge DesBarres on the bench in vario^is places in Nova Scotia, and had the pleasure of hearing him deliver charges to a jury ; but never before did I know him to so rise with the occasion, and speak so clear- ly, forcibly and feelingly. 'H^ exhibited all the knowledge of the law- yer — the gravity and impartiality of the judg6, land the sympathies and emotions of the man. When he commenced his address, the Court House contained more people than it ever held before ; and such eagerness and intensity of interest, I never saw depicted on any mass of human taces. The prisoner and his tM^o little children in the box beside him. The arms of both the little ones were entwined around his ni^ck, and his strong arms surrounded their little forms. Nothing could be imagined more overpowering, touching and im- pressive. Often the children imprint an aflPectionate kiss upon their lather's face, which he feelingly returns. He looks distressed and anguished — stricken indeed ! . • '* t His Lordship, after impressively i*efemng to the horrible and re- '^'Volting featufes of the case, and the unspeakable solemnity of the I'^sponsibility resting upon all parties concerned in this trial, and most ^«8pecially on the jury, proceeded to narrate in the most minute detail *Ur the cUTumstances surrounding tl^e murdei*,^ Oinitting nothing, put- ting everything in the strongest light, butfairlv and impartially before *j^|ihe jury, without any opinion or judgment of Lis own. He put the 6ase clearly before them in this light : There is no doubt a murder has been committed — that Mary Ann Mailman's life was wilfully taken by some hand. " Was the prisoner at the bar the person who 'perpetrated the deed — and was he the only person who could possi- ' Bly have perpetrated it ? If they believed he was, then they must find * him * Guilty ?' " If they hi^d any reasonable dou^t of this, th^y mu«t find a verdict of * Acquittal." With the conseqiiences of their verdict they had nothing whatever to do.'* His Lordship then read his minutes of the evidence in full, occupying just three hours, conclud- «r ing at 6.45. I cannot compliment the learned Judge too highly on the stem impartiality and strict, unbending justice displayed throughout, with a merciful desire to strain a point and seize upon anything favor- able to the prisoner, — justice blended with mercy. The Yeedict. tf3 >V9 * At about t p. m., the jury retired. At a little after eight, the ^ord went out that they were ready with their verdict, I transcribe the description of this part of this painfully interesting trial, ft?om one of my letters to the " Recorder." The J ndge immediately entered the Court House and took his seat on the bettch. Quick as thought the house was filled, — the word had spread and the crowd rushed franti- cally to the place in mad eagerness to hear the words which were to fix the prisoner's doom. Pell-mell in they jammed, and the intense excitement could be felt in the very air. The prisoner, who had been notified that the jury were ready to announce their verdict, walked deliberately down from the jail, bringing his two little children with him. He walked calmly into the box, and lifted the two little ones upon the railing, supporting them carefully with his arms. The scene was a thrilling one. Only one feeble lamp thre^ its light over the dense crowd. — There was a sort of ominous, startling gloom which penetrated to every human heart. (^' I took my place immediately behind the prisoner's box, wishing to (SiWatch the effect upon him as carefully as 1 possibly could, as I had been so puzzled and amazed by his conduct hitherto. I bad been led to fancy that a vulgar hope that he would "get clear somehow," had been his strength hitherto, and that Once take away this and he would give way to the horrors of his position. The 12 men who held bis life in their hands slowly filed into their box, looking pale and solemn. The foreman rose to his feet. There was an awful stillness as of death. Every heart beat fast — every one trembled in anticip- ation of the awful word. At last the foreman's voice was heard, clear and distinct : — " We find the prisoner at the bar, Guilty ! " Tha silence and hush in an instant gave away to a sort of murmur *1iirhieh ran through the crowd. I understood it to be of approbation and satisfaction at the verdict. Quick as thought every eye was fixed upon the unfortunate criminal. To the astonishment of every one who saw him, he never moved a muscle nor betrayed the faintest sign of emotion. He looked steadily forward and remained as cool as if he had received a paltry fine. Marvellous to relate, from the moment the verdict was gi^.'en till he left the Court (about ten minutes) he never trembled a single particle. He did not seem half as much af- fected .as myself. I only noticed one thing — that as often as he look- ed about and caught the eye of any person he knew, he did not speak aj usual ; he looked at me two or three times, but seemed to be quite tinoonscioiis of my identity. '• .£\' ■ ; 66 •' ij .Hi;. W ■I ! •At length he shook his head and i^aid " Well I am innocent and I don't care !" and his tone would lead one to believe him. The Sheriff gave orders that the crowd should leave the court-house before the prisoner was taken out* A good many d^d leave, but the greater part were insensibly chained to the spot. Hitherto Mailman had only been a ruffianly sort of a character in their eyes, whom they desired to see convicted, and feared he would get clear. Now he had undergone a change in their conceptions of him. He stood there a condemned felon — the rope already about bis neck — without the &int- est hope of ireedom or commutation. !n this capacity he became a hero — something beyond the natural and the common place. Every- body was anxious to «ce wh^ he would do, how h^ would look and^ act* But Peter Mailman never flinched, H§ saw the thousapd eye» that were turned curiously towards him ; he observed the mass surg- ing towjM^s his box ; he fully realized that hanging was inevitable and might be his fate before a week ; and yet he never betrayed any emo- tion ; never tihowed the slightest sign of fear or horror I ^ He stood there, as I said, about ten minutes, waiting for the cro^d to disperse. The two little children still had their arms about his neck, and he was able to mildly return their caresses. Innocent pets ! they little understood the meaaing of the terrible word that consigiicd their father to a felon's death ! B^t they seemed to realize that the air was pregnant with something grave and wild, — for they clung more closely than ever to their father, aj;i4 3,<^Q^4 i^o^i^ 4)l'^4 with pity and regard than eyer before. -^.i-j c f; : j^ ;*n ')■■' t/ At length the crowd had been sufficiency thinned and the jailor was preparing to leave with the prisoner. The latter looked up, gave a shake of his head, and with a sardonic smile, observed : " Well, I ,hope Pave Frpssel and Joe Baker are satisfied now"-— and glancing ;Up to the platform and discovering one of the magistrates who com- mitted him, he added, with a nod at th^ party, — " and John Tohin too." He then carelessly threw his hat on his head, took each child by the hand and deliberately walked out; and walked up to tj^e County Jail, leading the children ,a8 before. The eager crowd foUowed-r intensely excited, but Peter little minded these. It is customary to handcuff even a, thief when convicted. This murderer was allowed to walk a quarter of a mijLe in the evening with his children, when flight couJtd not have made hw case more hopeless. All he had to do was to break away from his children and run, and being athletic and swift of foot, ]\e could soon have been out of reach of pursuers, and with an axe in his hand he might have defied the County iqn some time. But he walked quietly ^ong — quietly to thi© jail — quietly into his cell-— and quietly weot to rest ! The Sbntbnoi. On the morning of the 25th Oct., at XI a>. m., on motion qf H^Q* and I jailor gave ell, I mcing com- too." Id by [ountj 'ed— This with sloss. ajid reach the the iw. J. Creighton, Que^i^'s CQunsel, ^hepn^oper, Peter Mailing, was brought into Covat to r^iye sentence. Wheq, h^ ^^^ f^^9^ by the , plerk of the Orown, the following qijestion ; !!?»}..»; o > jui Peter Mailman, you have been indicted for the 'unlawful murder of Mary Aim Mailman. Whereupop, you pleaded not guilty. And on that indictment you, have been foun4 guilty by a Jury of your Coux^ try. What have you no.w to say why sentence should not be passed upon you? Prisoner replies, ♦^1 am not j&uilty^V.^Judge DesBarres then passed sentence ^ follows : ' .. " X ou, Peter Mailman, tljie prisoner i^t tl^j9 Bar, have been charged with the murder of yqur wife Mary Ann Mailman. You have been found guilty of that ch^i^e by a Jury of your Cpuntry, after a long, . patient, though a painful investigation. You were defended by ^ gentleman of the Bar who used all the ability he was possessed of, and a great deal of ing0n^ii|;y to gain £br you an acquittal. There was not the possibility of a doubt, or you would have received the benefit of it. Under th^ evidence I do not see how the Jury could have arrived at any other conclusion. I ^^ not go into this matteir very deeply j for if J did ipy feelings woujld'oveiirpower roe. Jjcan bold out no hope to you that the sent<;nce X am now about to pass upon you will not \^ ci^vried out. I have no doubt that some kind minister of the gospel will assist you in preparing to meet your God. The Sentence of the Court is that you shall be takeji from hence to the place from whence yon ,^me, from thence on Tuesday the 30th day of ^December ni^t, tp ^he place of Execution, and jbhere to be Panged by the neck until you are De^, ajad may God Aliii[igbty have mercy on your spq^.^^, ^jj<|,f ^ iira ,'>ui ^nad ^rm yj»0^', .a^:^frw«tx 'i It was noticed partiqul^ly by all who attended the trial, that the •prisoner invariably conducted himself with the most cool and daunt- less indi^erence throughout. His be(;ring was that of a bold, feaj-less and hardened man. AVhen the most dainaging eyideniiie was being given against him, he seemed perfectly unmoved ; when the most thilling scenes were being enacted, such as the detailing of the cir- cumstances of finding the body^ he was the leaiSt affected man in the court. His appetite seemed tiiiappeasable', and' he ate everything that was put into his hajidp. -u >...i But even Peter Mailman, hai^dened tfs he was, and d^^tute of mudi of that finer feeling which ip supposed to reigii in human hearts, conlJd not always be insensible of b^ posi^tion, |pif l^ad h^ mpm^ts of te]f- rible reflection. In the long days and nights he spent in his solitary c^, what thoughts mii^st have come, the past baiunting him, t^e ftiture torturing him with most sickening apprehensipiiSr ifjid, as day after dfty, the tidal proQeed^di w^^t a t^nible volqai^p of dl?^ topughts ;pust have been raging, in hi^ breast t Hpw re^tjtessiy aod aimou% D6 miiat he hare tossed all night ik his lonely bed, re-enacting in his fevered dreams, the exciting drama of the day ! What a night-mare the scenes of each day in the trial must have seemed as he passed them in review while restless ahd sleepless in the dark and solemn hour of midnight \ t spoke to him one night, and asked him how he felt. He said " I im in some grief — I feel pretty bad — but my •tourage is not gone yet; I have some hopes yet ! My conscience is as clear ais an angel's in heaveh ! ^ Surely^ surely, this poor wretch, ignorant, soulless and indifferent as he is, deserves our warmest pity I What situation can be more desperate and terrible ! '' In one of my letters to the "Recorder" I find the following re- ference to a conversation I had vdth him the morning before the •verdict. "I had some conversatioii with the prisoner again to-day. After doing all I could to encourage him, the conversation turned on the possibility of an adverse verdict." "'"' T said " It would be a terrible thing if thifty should find you guflty ; '^0 not yoii feel awful apprehensions ? " "P lie replied, " No! Lhave a clear conscience, and that makes me <\8*!i!jr. ' If I were to be hung at 12 o'clock to-day I would not bo fMArmed. If I knew for certain I was to be httng to-morrow at 12 •o'clock I would sleep as well to night as ever." ^^' In a moment*after he resumed---^ ' fni-ri ■>:■ lf:l<.!4« Tbsre^isn't much Hi life anyviiay. We have nothing but cares and •"woubles. I wouldn't *take my oVm life, but if 'others tbke it from me 'I cannot help it. Brit, mark what I say to you, I may never speak to you again. They may hang me, but if they do, those who do it will never prosper afterwards, and I don't believe they'll get to heaven at last, xou may remember this afterwards when I am dead. I tell you I am innocent." t.O I believe a ver»lict of " G^uilty " will break him down, and that, if guilty, he will make a confession before execution. If he does'nt ,1 'thall believe he is innocent ; for, strong as he seems, and dauntless as '4ie is, 1 don't think he has sufficient strength to pass through the or- 'deal without breaking down." 't - •'■ ''" * 'f :^fc.l) '.rrhfm • i^^ PBisoinsB s Childben in his Cell. One of the mosj; touching incidents in the trial was the visit of the ^o little children to their father's cbM. They had been brought into town a day or two before, but t*iey had been frightened to go up to the jail on account of their childish.fancies of the horrors of such a place. ' 't* '''•*}''1R -y' :ii({i-'W> :' .-sjoi When, ..;; Pressing them close to his heart, he exclaimed : " Ah, I haven't seen ye, my dears, for a long time, but I am your father yet, and I '11 take care of ye as long as they vi^l let me do it," .^ He told me he had only slept half an hour th^' previous night for thinking of them, so much did he long to see them. " You won't be locked up," he said : " it's only your poor father that they lock up ; but you may run about and play with the jailor's children, ^nd I'll give you a few cents to-morrow to buy some sugar- plums with." The children expressed a desire to stfiy with him, and it was grant- ed them. They wished to stay in the cell with him, but he told them they could not do this, but th6y might sleep near him, and they could /speak to each other in the ni^t. These children thought nothing of their father's crime — nothing of his murder of their poor mother — nothing of his horrible position as murderer, close to the foot of the scaffold. They only thought of the prisoner as their father ! I was glad to see his paternal afifection rising above his awful con- Motion — above the dark and damning charges laid so terribly near his door — above the woe and anguish of the afilicted family — above the dis^ace and suffering which surrotiiidlBd, and would hang over them dunng life. It toucbed(^e beyond measure, and I felt it to be an •sternest of some good in the hearts of human beings. ^ I left the scene deeply impressed. It will not soon fade from my recollection, but will linger long after the memories of manytdi^ pleasing incidents shall have vanished from my mind. i 60 t ■■ , T&B !PbI80VSB'S CoKFXSSIOlf. The trial over, the verdict found, and the sentence pronounced, the execution of the laW Onlv' remained. All who wer6 interested in the matter were satisfied of, the g^ilt of the prisoner. But there was much speculatioil' a)i to whet^et he Would confess previous to his death. If ]xe had gone to the sca^old stoutly maintaining his inno- cence there would npt have been WA!ilting large ndbibers who would hiavo had strong doubts of his guilt. A confession of guilt would be satisfactory to ev^rjfbddy. Peniieiice is unattainable apart from ab- thowledgmeiit of v?rolig, and repentance usually follows close upon confession. The fclefgymeh in aid about Lunenburg who had become deeply interested in his case, knd solicitous for his spiritual awaken- ing and ti^ue repentance^ ap^yoach^d him frequehtly On the subject; but wi|tboU|t success till the first of December when he sent for Key. Mr. Owen, Episcopal Eector, and on different occasions, andinpro- sence of different persons made the three following statements ; whicli are about verbatim. In reading, it will be Understood whenever a question is piit to the rifisorier, it is by Mr. Owen : LiTNiiirBUBa Jail, Wednesday, !xi;,x.:» December 3, 1878, 9 p.rti. ,V', I, Peter Mailman, |igea 4*/ years, now in confinement in this goal, dp fyeely, and ol* my own accord, without constraint either by fear or favor, confess in the presence of the subscribers hereunto, that X am ,guilty of the crime l^d to ii\y charge, and for w^iich 1 am at preseiit under conflneme^;t in this jml. .^l";^",!' ' ,' fUncrf '....... Peiter As witness my X mark. . . Mailman. "';;;'''« H.: Ji, Owen, Eector of St, JcAn's Church, W, J. Dauphinee, J. !*♦ ; James Bubsle, Jailor;, •flflttftrs; ija3Bg|«; \\s&(k wo" \rum hfoif f Signed; l>it»0^7i>rf?rsjgned) " .'• ' '« (Signed) ^■11 iiortbiixT '>( ' jcir' .ft. y"i M'Ui TkB Jajx, Lunenbtjbg, ' . Fbiday, Deq, 5tji, 1873, 3 p.m.'" i|) On commg this afternoon unto Peter Mailm^'s room in this jail, I coiiiifienced speaking to hiinon the matter of hi^ la^ vrife's boot&. . He sa^d i^ me : '' ^j, Owep, on n^y bed last night I gaye the thought that it v^as no use, to malce confession any longer ; but that I wQul,d , ^. responsible fo^ the whole murder, the boots an4 everything elpf, ^d ^hs\,1^ F^en Mr. Qwen c^me next time t||^ee ]ne« J would put the whole sin off my h^nds by t^l^ipg him ajll, sp 1|hat afl^r that he cqu^ use prayers and tell me about my soul, instead of losing more time in taking aboHt^^tjIj!^, %fe?u1| .jfj^ikJ^ we hffvo , ^l^y tajkeii^^ often. .r ''■!? "^vt •'^.■■•T> f->i': ■" , , , Wr ■ .'-r Mailman says : — On the day of the murder, about 1 o'clock, my 61 I am .' M\i . i'it )00t&. ; else, it the qquJ/d ■me in ■W , my wife asked me if I would not go and pick borrie« too, for to go to the Bridge next day. The children had already gone. I went with her, and something neAt a mile from th« bouse we picked the berrieR. When we got tliere the fniit trees were all cut down. We only could find one bush. That I cut. Whe had no words on the way to the berries. We went like two children oould go by the hand. Com- iiig back we sat down by a tree, right alongsid*^ of a log i-oad. We talked there about a quarter of an hout, both as one. 1 put my hand on her lap, and drew up to her. She took hold of my hand and threw it away, and spriing for to gO away. I took hold bf my axe and hit ^er her, and didW expect to hit her so hard las I did. It killed her at once. I sat down and lifted her body isitting, and thought may be she had only been stimned. But there was no more breath there, though I stopped with her 20 or 30 minutes, and thoilght pei*J l^aps it might. God knowis how bad I felt. If I Could have blown- breath into her, I would. We returned by the log road, which was further round than the way we went, because she wished it, as it was better to go through the log road than through the bushes; and we could get nearer the wag;gon road, from the meadow up to the house. I lifted the body and laid it under the root. I took th6 boots off and the hat, and carried them with me home. They stand in the burnt lind in the potatoe pie^, where they are now. The axe I left in thle* woods. The place where I laid the body was three or four steps from the scene of the murder. That 's candid. I came home And set fire to the buriiing about | mile from the house, in another direction. I felt the terror upop me, and now my plan wiaft, nbt to be found out. I 8l.ept home thit night. Next day (Tuesday) I went to Jas. Baker's aiid .Tohn Boliver's. Wednesday 1 went to the Bridge — Thursday I was home — Friday I went to the Branch, and I took the little boy with me in the waggon. Saturday I was home baking bread. Satur- day night I wettt to Greywood, nearly 50 miles from my house, and about 7 from Annapblis. Got up on Sunday at 3 o'clock ; at 7 o'clock the constables were there. Monday I was fetched down from there, and Tuesday I was brought in to prison. *<» t^m\^f "uiii uu ui- I remember, after my eyes are shut, any body thalfs blamed for anything, the only time irll come out, is When they are put in prison and tried. Then i\, jtvill copie out. For I did make an awful sight of crooks, ^m^^.tum^ myself iJb get clear, and yet was guilty. Out of a small speck that a body is blamed for comes to be a big sore at the end. Then it will only be found oUt. N^Wj 1 take that from myself, and wish all others would do the same. > '''i' f .'!,.!■ ,it ^ X am truly sorry that I havd Inroken the laws 6f the good God, and <^my couiitty-*! am. If I could live ray Hfb oyer again, I would tither lose my life than take another life 5 and I would ^ve all the iibhes in tMs World if1E*could bring my poor -wife to life again. What of my hh ¥einai]bts, I wi«^ to 6p«nd in repentasice to God, and in lo^ to man* X don't blame ^ judge nor th« jury '^ and where there wa# <« 92 »ny false evidence given againHt me, 1 wish to £bTgive it, and hopo God will forsive it too* I thauk all thoie who hfive shown mo kind<< neas since. I nave been lA thip jaii. The mjuQisters who have visited me, and tho jailor who has been a kind friend to me^ and the friends who sent mo meals and other kind things, may my good iSaviour re* member them in the day of trouble. I also thank Mr. Kaulback, my lawyer and my kind fnend, for all hiO done, and as much as he dona, and for; all tho trouble he went to to sate my life. He done all ever one ma£! could do for another. He did, and I say it. He lost time, and I hav<» no doubt he lost sleep, for me, and done all he could to get my brothers fro-n Greywood for witnesses. I thank him heartily for all this and all el^e he done for me. Put down his wife, Mrs. Kaulback's, name, too. She sent me papers with pictures to pass my time, and books that she made a purpose for me — also oranges and apples and cakes, and I thank her veiry much for her kind messages to mo about God and Jesus and my soul. I thank her, and God will reward her in heaven. I thank Mr. Owen, the lawyer, and Mrs. Owen for all they sent me. Their kindness did my poor heart good, as well as my body. I am in prison and they send unto me. Kev. Mr. Smith, Mr. Croighton, Mr. James Dowling, J^Ir. Heisler and Mr. James Bourke's family likewise. For all the good the llev. Mr. Owen gave and done me, &om my ywy soul and blessed Saviour I thank him heartily. ., .. ai M. i ; .i>.]/; -vdM 'ul'i .hh>o7- X wUl now spend the rest of my time in looking up to heaven to the Holy God, whose laws I have broke^i, an4 to,th^X#]q9|^,(^^^ Q9^i who taketh awayHhe sin of the world. .,f }.,,,, "% r"-^' •r(i'"p't» - '• ri.'i And nowi if my prison doors were opened, and I could go out flpee, I would rather stay where I am, and prepare my soul for another world, than go out any where, for if I wa^ |9, go 9u<^„^ years lopg^y, I might not die as wdQ as 1 hope to now. ^ w dim ":,!«; !ij /.'u (Signed) ^jt) ..jiPeter X Mailn r;Tn"frr., :* .^r; J. ,„.;,., .... ,(iv.uli n-> •■ JiJWfe. ..>.., , In the presence of .,rf»»n.| .>t m tfttitKr.'^ ftv/ I v.,ij , ,HB]y»T L. OwBN. , ■■ ^^b ,-iiyAu (Signed), n V :>iKr ^Aim M^ Buwq!, JaUor* \ ^u^. > oiii Mailman sa^it — I wtat to- tell you tne true reason why I mitted this murder. Through Albert Mailman and Josiah Fancy keeping with my vvoman iand breaking up my family, I committed this murder. If they hftd kept away from my woman, this would not have happened. Albert Mailman could do. more ^vith my woman than I myself, and that was very bard^ For #t9 last two years my woman always had -money* which I knew she got from Mailmanr^, from Josiah Fancy X do not know They are boUi married men iwith •■•if ,"n[«wll ) families. The neighbors couJd see Faxtoy go to my bouse, when no one was home but my woman. Ho tackled my daughter once in the woods, and once in my bam, which I know of myself, I do not say that I am free from sin. I do not say that I have done nothing to provoke my wife, or that I have not sometimes made her jealous of me4 I am sorry when I have done so ; also ,when X have made her angry, and when I got into a passion myself. If I had not got into a passion this would not have happened. The squaw never travolled with me but once. I was going home alone from iiridgewator, and when I was about 8 miles irom home I came up with her^ and 8h«( asked me to take her in, which I did, and she went with me upon our road, whore we parted. Bho went to her camp about one mile from the road where we parted, and I went home. That was the only time she ever was wi^h me alone, ^e had half a pint of liquor in a Hask for her father, an old and sickly maui I had none with me. . We did not taste the liquor. I never had any wicked acquaintance, with her. My neighbors oon 't deny that statement. It is the truths I said to him : " while I was writing your ^n&sflion on Friday, Mv^' Agnew's body was found at Spectacle Island with his money, watch and rings, all safe, 80 that ho was not murdered. Our county is therefore putting away t?wo murders from it-^one by the finding of the body, the o^ier by your confession." Well, now, that is right ; I am glad to hear it. I hope my neighbours Mill never again hear of such things in this county. I read this over to him. Now, said ho, that is right* My wife's head struck a piece of wood when she fell. She had a wart as big as that ink bottle (3 cent bottle) on the small of her bMk, right by the back bone ever since 1 knew her. I said when I threw the aie away, you shall never cut another blow for me. That thought I g^ve th^ axe, any how. f ; ;: ■ »*-'■• •■•■'"••"".- his .jjn, (Signed) _,..^_.. Peter X Mailman. Kt"8.ija'>' ,(ij In the presenco of ,. (Signed) mark i.'nai A' Heitet L, Owen, Eector. .J^MES M. BtJBKE, Jailor. t »iint«i! C'JH r . i never thought God could be so merciful to such, a sinner as t am } but I thank God, He has opened my eyes and took tne out of dark-* ness, and now I can see miles and miles ahead of mo, when I could'nt see a rod before me, and that is up to my blessed Lord and Saviour* An if X owned this world, and all that is in i^j^'di sooner hi^ve my she iayii and go to my Lord and Saviour. I say to every sinner J. it i o odds how big a sinner he is. Bepcnt and look to the Lamb c .\ A.V UNPOXTirNAITK M^VN, WllO yjTAS EXKCUl'KD AT LU^TKNBUUO, IS'» 8., 30th Dkoembku, 1873. Unhapoy man I where has thy spirit iled ? After a life of labor-^-death of dread. ;, A crime that madness only can explain, A^elpless woman by her husbaua slain. The tortures of his heart to God were known, Wh|^ reason struggled to i-egain her throne. The fear of death still held hini as- a slave, — The fear of death and of a felon's grave, liarnest and well his Counsel did contend 'bill. -Vgainet strong proof Ha client to defend. Boldly and ably his appeal was made, ]^Ut all in vain the fatal verdict asiid. When what the law could say or do was thine. Plainly his earthly race completely run, G