this world went. Two days afterwards a blacksmith’s apprentice, a stranger in the neighbourhood, happened to be at Berrin’s Wood. He met a man named Grace, who was going home from his work, and the two fell a-talking. Grace said there was a queer old well not far off in the wood, and as the young blacksmith had not any particular business on hand, he answered that he should like to see the place, if the other would show him the way. Most probably, for months, no one—save Ann Barker—had been near the spot. When they got to the well the blacksmith threw a large stone of about two pounds or three pounds weight down the well, and they heard it strike the bottom. Grace next tried his luck, and threw down a smaller stone; but this time, instead of the expected “thud,” they heard, or fancied they heard, a child’s cry from the bottom of the well. The two men acted with great judgment. In place of flinging any more stones they kneeled down, and listened, and soon satisfied themselves that it was not a mistake; there really was a living child lying down at the bottom of that old Roman hole. They went for ropes, and first tried to let a lantern down, but it knocked against the side of the wall, and went out. At length they succeeded in rigging up the proper machinery, and a boy of fourteen years of age was let down by ropes to the bottom of the well, and when drawn up again he produced a child, which, as it was afterwards discovered, had been lying there for about forty hours. The child was thirteen months old. Though cold, and stiff, and sore, it soon revived. Grace took it home, and his wife gave it a few teaspoonfuls of wine and water, and then, more judiciously, bread and milk. The child was afterwards taken to the workhouse, and is now thriving and doing well. Neither starvation nor exposure, nor the big stone, nor the port wine, had killed it; and, as it was produced in court, it is described as “a fat, healthy, and handsome child.” Here is a scrap from the report: “The prisoner, during her trial, fell down from her seat in the dock, and was unable to cast a look at her infant, who sat smiling in his nurse’s arms, unconscious of his mother’s shame.” Her account was that she had stumbled against the stump of a tree, and the child had flown out of her arms, and so into the well. She was found “Guilty,” as of right.
The mysterious case of child murder at Road is veiled in deeper mystery than ever. On Friday last there was a protracted investigation before the magistrates at Road into the charge against Miss Constance Kent, the half-sister of the murdered boy. It will be remembered that the main ground of suspicion against this young lady rested upon the disappearance of a night-dress, which was supposed to be the one she had worn on the night of the murder. This point now rests as follows: Sarah Cox, the housemaid in the service of Mr. Kent, deposed, that on the Monday morning after the murder she found a night-dress on the landing, in the place where Miss Constance Kent’s night-dress was usually thrown. This she took, and counted the linen. As she counted the articles the Misses Kent entered the numbers in the washing-book. The night-dress which was lying on the landing was thrown into the basket with the rest. There were three night-dresses in the basket, none of which belonged to Miss Elizabeth Kent. This was between ten and eleven. The laundress came for the clothes between twelve and one. The basket was left in the lumber-room, and the room was unlocked. Miss Constance came to the door of the lumber-room after the clothes were in the basket; and, whilst standing on the landing-place, asked the nurse to step down stairs and get her a glass of water. The girl was not absent a minute, and when she returned found Miss Constance standing in the same place. There certainly does not seem to have been time in this brief interval for any one to pull a particular article out of the heap of dirty linen; but, at the same time, it must be remembered that the basket was left in the unlocked lumber-room for more than an hour, during which time Sarah Cox was absent at the inquest, while the family were left in the house. The housemaid was very positive that she put three night-dresses in the basket, one of which belonged to Miss Constance. Miss Constance’s night-dresses were easily distinguishable from the other Miss Kent’s, as they had plain frills, while the others had lace and work. On the other hand, Esther Hobbs, the laundress, swore that she and her daughter examined the basket within five minutes of their arrival at their own house, and that there was a difference between the account and the articles of one night-dress—missing. She sent to the house on discovering its absence, but whether she sent immediately, or the same evening, or the day after, is not clearly stated. There is an ambiguity in the report which there may not have been in the evidence. But she was positive that her three daughters were present when she examined the clothes that she brought from Mr. Kent’s, and all three might have been called if there had been hope of shaking their mother’s testimony. The amount of the housemaid’s evidence was this: “I am certain I put the night-dress of Miss Constance into the basket, but I can’t swear it went out of the house, because I was not in the house at the time.”
There the matter rests for the present. There were no grounds for detaining the prisoner, and she was discharged on her father’s entering into recognizances of 200l. for her appearance if called upon.
THE LAST CRUSADERS.
