• A few days since, a regimental court-martial was held
in the Officers' Mess-room, in the Tower of London ; when Thomas Florentine, a private of the 1st Regiment of Coldstream Guards' stationed in that fortress, was convicted of being asleep on his post in the Bank of Eng- land, while on duty about three weeks ago. The prisoner was found guilty; and it appearing that he had committed a similar offence four years since, the Court sentenced him to four months' imprisonment and hard labour in Brixton Gaol.
On Monday, Ann Callaghan an Irishwoman, was charged at Hatton Garden with attempting to murder her husband. John Callaghan, the husband, said he lived in Gray's Inn Lane ; that morning he was in bed while his wife was sweeping the room ; he fell asleep with the clothes tucked about his neck; soon after he was awoke by some one pulling them away, when he found his wife standing over him with a razor in her hand; he caught her by the wrist when the razor was within two inches of his throat. She then tried to get it into the other hand, when he roared out for assistance. This was her third attempt of the same kind. Corroborating testimony was given by some of the other persons lodging in the house. The Inspector of Police said the prisoner had been cautioned, but afterwards voluntarily said she had made the at- tempt because her husband cohabited with another woman. It did not appear that there was the slightest ground for this charge. The poor woman is subject to fits of falling sickness, and there seems reason to believe she is also subject to fits of insanity. She was detained.
On Friday night, between nine and ten o'clock, a young gentleman named Andrews, residing in Duncan Place, London Fields, Hackney, was met by two men close to a gate at the entrance of Clement's Fields, and near to the Regent's Canal, one of whom inquired his nearest way to Shoreditch Church. Mr: Andrews turned to point out the direc- tion, and instantly received a heavy blow of a bludgeon on the back part of his head, which stunned him, though it did not bring him down. The other ruffian at the same time dosed with him; and while one held him down, the other rifled his pocket of a silver watch and appendages, and two sovereigns. The ruffians, not content with their plunder, commenced beating their unresisting victim, in order to silence his cries for assistance. Having, as they considered, accomplished their desperate purpose, they left him, when Mr. .Andrews renewed his cries for help. The wretches returned, and one of them deliberately drew a clasp-knife from his pocket, with which he inflicted two wounds on Mr. .Andrews's neck, close to the carotid artery, which it would have cut but for the neckcloth. The villains then ran across the fields. One of the lock-keepers on the Regent's Canal, hearing the cries of s Murder," hastened to the spot from whence they proceeded, and there found Mr. Andrews, whom he assisted to his residence. Mr. Andrews is still in a feeble state from the loss of blood, and the con- tusions he received in the first instance.
On Tuesday morning, a porter belonging to Covent Garden Mar- ket, employed to carry a sack of beans, fell under his load. He so severely injured his spine, that little hope is entertained of his recovery.
Colonel Withers, of Bryanston Street, Bryanston Square, suffered a dreadful concussion of the brain on Tuesday, by the fall of his horse in Gloucester Place.
A poor boy was drowned on Wednesday, in an attempt to reach his hat, which a puff of wind had blown into the River, while he and another were rowing between Westminster and Vauxhall Bridges.
The body of a female was found drowned in the Serpentine, about five o'clock on Saturday morning. It was identified on Tuesday, by a i gentleman named Jones, as that of his niece. It appears she was born bon the West Indies, and was the daughter of a Mr. Higham, a wealthy planter, who some time ago returned to England with his fa- mily, and settled at Bath. She was a single woman, and about thirty years of age. A few years since, she had come to London, and entered into partnership with a dressmaker in Pall Mall. Some time ago, a disagreement took place with her partner, which was followed by a dis- solution of partnership ; and she then engaged lodgings in the vicinity of Portman Square, where she continued until Thursday, on which day she went out and never returned. A woman named England, who re- sides in the neighbourhood, is supposed to be implicated in her death. She was found in the Park on Saturday morning, under suspicious cir- cumstances, in company with four soldiers. She promised to attend the Coroner's Inquest, and on that promise was let go ; but when the beadle went to summon her, she had absconded, no one knew whither.
On Sunday morning, Thomas Falcus, a tobacconist, of Lisson Grove North, formerly a seaman in the British Navy, where he had received several wounds in his head, which at intervals brought on fits of insanity, called upon his brother, in Adam Street, Marylebone in his way, as he said, to Mr. Hedge, a surgeon, in Fetter Lane,- where he was going to be cupped, as his head was getting bad ; but instead of doing so, he went to Mr. Gillespie's, a surgeon, and purchased a quan- tity of arsenic, and having procured some water and a glass, he mixed the poison and swallowed it. Every possible medical assistance was rendered, but to no effect ; he expired at nine o'clock the same evening.
On Sunday, in Baltic Street, St. Luke's, a woman, named Mary Collis, a respectable shopkeeper, hanged herself. •A letter, enclosing her will, was found thrust between her neck and the cold. From another letter it appears, she met at Camberwell Fair a few days ago a gentleman, who having obtruded himself on her notice, and afterwards made a strong impression on her mind, promised to see her again ; in consequence of his not doing so, it is supposed she was induced to com- mit suicide. So determined was she to put an end to her existence, that she had tied a 141b., a 71b., and a 31b. weight to her person, for the purpose of accelerating her death.
On Tuesday morning, in Red Lion Street, Whitechapel, a boy, scarcely fifteen years of age, the son of respectable parents, jumped out of a third-story window into the street. His leg and arm were broken, and his skull fractured, and he was taken to the London Hospital in a state of insensibility. The boy had often threatened to destroy him- self, if his mother did not allow him to do as he pleased.
Mr. E. Turner, aged sixty-two, many years landlord of the Cheshire Cheese, in Addle Street, hanged himself on Thursday. morning. The unfortunate man had been the proprietor of the Cheshire Cheese for several years, and had brought up a numerous family in respectability. A few years ago, his wife died of a painful and lingering illness ; the expenses attending which, and the support of a large family, involved him in pecuniary difficulties, which compelled him to let his house. He took lodgings in Monkwell Street, and became gradually so reduced that he was obliged to submit to the necessity of seeking parochial re- lief; which with some trouble and difficulty he obtained from the Ward of Alderrnanbury. Being of a susceptible disposition, these circum- stances preyed much upon his mind, and ultimately led to self-destruc- tion.
The body of a woman was discovered, on Thursday morning at ele- ven o'clock, in the canal in St. James's Park, at the end nearest Buck- ingham Palace. It was at first supposed that the poor creature must have drowned herself on Wednesday night, as she appeared to have been long dead. On being removed, however, to Westminster Hos- pital, animation was restored; and she is now recovering.
A case of cholera was very successfully counterfeited in Covent Garden Station-house on Sunday, by a tall fellow named Taylor, who was charged with felony. Two doctors attended, and administered brandy and laudanum plentifully, and even bled the patient, without discovering the truth. (Did they feel his pulse?) He was, when partly recovered, led into the yard ; where being left alone for a minute, he bounded on to the wall, ran along it to Covent Garden Burying- ground, and clambering over the iron gate, finally escaped.
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