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Hawke's Bay Weekly Times, Volume 1, Issue 29, 15 July 1867, Page 170

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MUS BROWN’S CHRIS IWA3 Si'OßiT. (From Loudon society.)

We was at that court, mother and me, by eight* a waiting to be let in, as she’d got leave lor u„, and there we stood ever sh long in the cold ; and if it liadu’t been for herjiake I sliould have died • with fear, to see that gloomy' place, anil them pflicers, as I thought every one was Jack Ketch, a looking that awl'nl. She, poor dear, had gone to see him, and was let into a place down below, near the lawyers; and then the judges come in, as was kind looking men, but however they can sit there and put any pne to death cool like that puzzles me. When I see my poor dear master put up in a place by hisself, and every one a looking at him, I felt a choking, and then there was a dead siience, aud my heart was a thumping agin my Dosim like waterworks. 4 The place was that dismal through lamps aud pwiles u burning, for gas wasn’t reglar in then, but «nly oil lamps. Where I was a setting it was very full, and that close and muggy to make any phe sick ; and when I could make out what they was about, I foiftid as a party were a denying as ever he’d signed that paper as master was accused about. I was so pleased, but soon found out as he was the one as was going agin master, though, as I.said to my dear mother, ‘Why ever ain’t he good-natured, and might as well say as it were his writing, and I’m sore missus would get the money paid back; ’ but, law, some people is that hard and grasping, like the man as seized Mrs Challin’s goods, but was obligated to give ’em up through pverstraining hisself in taking more than was his • rights.

There was one old gentleman in a white wig as was something like a clergyman in his dress; he spoke up for master beautiful, and said as it was all rubbish that being liis writing, and I thought as they’d let him go, cos the gentleman sat down, and looked quite satisfied, and so did them juries seem to be, tor his last words was a ordering them to restore him to his agonized wife, and so I thought as they went out for the purpose; but they wasn’t long away, and when they come back there was a deadly silence. I tried for to see my dear missus, but she was tqo much under where I was. Well, I heard a pifrfcy ask them juries their werdict, and if one on ? em didn’t say, ‘ Guilty.’ I say, * No, never! ’ and all the place seemed to turn round with me. My mother put her hand afore my mouth, and I pduld see the tears a running down her face. And ?vhen I looked agin, that judge had put on a black pap, and was a talking to master solemn.' ■Oh, them awful words, I never shall forget £hem. And when lie said, ‘ Have mercy on your soiul,’ I heard -a noise below, and says, ‘ Let me put, let me out! ’ And so parties made way for me, and I was down in the passage below in a instant, and there was my dear missus, they’d just brought her out, a Laying like stone dead on a jiench, and there stood the lawyer. I says, 1 Let me come to her,’ and so. they did. And mother she come down, and we got her intp. ? coach and home we drove; but she never spoke por give no sign of life: and the doctor he come, and said as he hoped as she never might. Towards night she did come to, but only to pve that awful as there wasu’t no holding her, pnd they wanted for to take her away, hut I says, - Never shall she he tppk away: if she goes I goes, My ppor mother was much put out, but she stood pp too for her. And then she got more quiet, but pever seemed to kr.o\v us. .That lawyer came.once, and shed tears, a. seeing her with all her lovely hair cutoff,, and me 9;ith constant cold winegar and water to her head, SBLYfB SU.kSShi .fetes an(j yupjungtha back of her

neck, and would have 'done more but my mother says, ‘No 5 you’ve tortured her enough, and I won’t have it done. Let her die in peace.’ They hung him three weeks after his trial, and I see him the day before, as was the Sunday, and he’d been a hearing a sermon; and when .they 'took me through them dark passages to his cell, I thought as death would be better than, being there.

Be was very quiet, poor dear, and looked so handsome, and spoke cheerful at first, till I began for to tell him about her. I didn’t say the wust, in course, only a stating as she dared not be moved.

He says, ‘ Martha, give her my last undying love; ask her to forgive me tlte cruel wrongs I’ve done her ; ’ and then he give way, and says, ‘ Oh ! if I could hoar her hut say, “ Alfred, I forgive you.” ’ I'says, ‘ Law, sir, in course she does; for I’m sure no angel ain’t more constant at her prayers, and always for you.’ He give me a bit of his hair for her, and then he shook hands with me, and sjiys, ‘ May God reward you for your kindness to her.’

I couldn’t no bear more. I bust out a crying that wiolent, and lie says, ‘ Poor thiug; take her away ; it’s too bad to bring you into tliis trouble.’ So I says, ‘ No, sir; don’t mind me, it’s only my foolish ways, through haviug a weak mind. But,’ I says, ‘ haven’t you nothing more to tell tne, as she’ll be glad to hear when she’s got her senses P ’

He cries out, ' Ah, that is ;i mercy ; then site’s spared a great deal. I’ve nothing more to say ; ’ and he shook my hand once more, and I was took out of the place a sobbing like a maniac. It was, I should say, about twelve o’clock that very night; I was a sitting by her a watching, for my dear mother had gone to bed, and the nuss was a lying down, when all of a sudden I was quite took aback to see my dear missus a sitting up in bed. I goes to her quietly, and says, ‘ What is it, mura ? ’ and I sec as she kuowed me.

‘ Martha,’ slie says, ‘I should like to got up.’ E says, ‘ Not till morning, mum.’ She says, ‘Oh ! I shall not be here in the morning.’ So I thought nat’rally as lier head was a wandering agin ; but no, it wasn’t, she was quite reasonable, and says to me, ‘ Martha, I don’t want you to tell me anything, hut only promise me as I shall be laid in the same grave with him.’ I couldn’t speak, I only nodded my head, and goes close up to her, and I’m sure I don’t know why I did it, but if I didn’t take and put the lock of itis hair in her hand. If ever I see a angel’s smile it was on her dear lips as she kissed that bit of hair. I says, ‘ Wouldn’t you like something ? ’ She turns round and throws her arms quite quiet round my neck. She says to me, 1 God, who never deserts them as trusts in him, has sent you to be my friend. I bless and thank you for all you have done. Bury us near our darling.’ Site says, ‘ When I am gone h*t some one ivritc to those, people: you know I received the money •from. You’ll find the letter in my desk. Tdl them all is over with us both, and that I forgive them.’ She’d keep her arms round me all the time she was talking, and that she .-aid, ‘ Lay me down again, .1 want to sleep ; I've hud su :h a lovely dream, and p’r’aps it will come again.’ I put a glass of water to her lios, but site said in h'r own swear, way like, ‘ Not any, thank you-' S; I laid iu*r down, and s-r. 'oy the bed-side,-and she kep’ a holding my hand.

£ wanted to call mother, for I scp a great chancre iu her, hut she held my hand !hm tdirhr- £ eoulutd: get away. So 1 sat still a watching her, mil then she turned towards me again, and i stamped my head down to listen to her. Atui she says, ‘ Martha, I’m so happy.’ I said, ‘ I'm glad on it, mum, I’m sure.’ She. says, ‘l’ve had my darling Clara near me all night, and I’m crimig with her : such lovely fields, so bright and suunv ; and voa si.ull come too.’ I don’t think as ever she snoke any more. Mother come in about ste, and wanted me to go to h ,M J. I said, ‘l’ll never leave her, mother; it will soon be over.’ And when she come to look at her, she says, ‘You’re rigid., my dear.’ I shalL never forget seeing her pass away; it was wonderful, for it come as the clock was a striking eight. She’d been quiet for hours, and just then she opened her (.-yes and cast them up, and died with a lovely smile a lighting up her face.

We buried them together, next the grave of their little gal; and the lawyer he was very kind and said as he’d pay out of his own pocket if there wasn't money enough ; and he told me as they had moved heaven and earth, as the saying is, for to save him, but it wasn’t no use, for there wasn’t any one to speak up v for him ; hut, law, it dues seem hard to cut a young man otf like, that for a bit of money as you’re liable to lose one way if you don’t another; and it’s a mercy as they’ve been and altered them laws, as was a disgrace, not as you can blame King George, as was a silting on the throne, cos it was the laws.

. I got that lawyer to write to them ’umbugs in Scotland, as was her own ilesli and blood, but no one near related, through her being a orphiu, as a unde had brought up; but., in course, through marrying like that, had steeled him agiu her, as was p’r’aps through having a second wife, as often sets men agin their relations, but must lay heavy at her door ; for if that young man had been treated kind he’d never have been drove to that as was his untimdy end; and I’ve heerd say as his mother w r as dead, and his father a party as had deserted her, and married with a family, and a holding up his head, no doubt, as I don’t envy him now, nor yet wbeu his last moments is a hangiug over him.

But, law bless me! bow I’ve been a talking:, and never ineaut to tell you about it, only through your a asking me to tell you something as we was all a sitting round the fire Christmas-time cheerful, and if I haven’t made you cry. So Brown he’d been a sleeping, he had, and says, ‘ Well, if you give ’em one of your cheerful stories, no wonder as they’ve been a snivelling, for you’re a downright Newgate Calendar, you are.’ I says, ‘ Brown, it’s jest as wpII when we’re all enjoying of ourselves, as we should think of them miseries, as is sent to some on us, to nmke us feel thankful as we ain’t wuss off than we are.’ But, law ! I’ve seen such a deal of life, as I considers a dreary blauk, as the saying is ; but yet feels thankful as I can enjoy myself with them I loves none the wuss for a thinking over the sorrers of others.