man entered the hall, Corder came out of the
parlour. What then happened the grave man
shall himself tell:

"I told him I had a little business with him.
Prisoner said, 'Walk into the drawing-room,' and
we went in. I then told him I was an officer,
and was come to apprehend him on a very
serious charge, and he must consider himself
my prisoner. He replied, ' Very well.' I told
him the charge was respecting a young woman
of the name of Maria Marten, whom he had
formerly kept company with. I said she had
been missing for a length, of time, and strong
suspicions were attached to him. I continued:
'I believe you know such a person? It was
a young woman you kept company with in
Suffolk.' He said no; he did not know such
a person. I asked him, ' Did you never know
such a person? ' He said no; I must have made
a mistake; he was not the person I wanted. I
said, ' No; I have not made a mistake — your
name is Corder; ' and I am certain he was the
person. I told him to recollect himself; I had
asked him twice if he knew such a person, and
I would ask him a third time. He still said no,
he did not; he never knew such a person. I
then proceeded to search him, and took from
his pocket a bunch of keys. I then took
him to the Red Lion at Brentford. On our
way thither, I said the body of the young
woman had been found in his Red Barn. He
made no remark then. We proceeded some
distance, and he asked me, 'When was the
young woman found? ' I told him, ' On
Saturday morning last.' He made no further
reply ."

A pair of pistols were found in a black velvet
bag that hung on a nail in Corder's dressing-
room. A gunmaker at Sudbury remembered
repairing these in February, 1827. There was
also found a short, very sharp, crescent-shaped
sword, which Corder was proved to have taken
to a cutler at Hadleigh, in May, 1827, to be
ground as sharp as a carving-knife. There were
now ominous-looking rust-spots and scratches
on it.

The murderer was tried at Bury St.
Edmund's, August 6, 1828. The crowd was so
enormous, that the counsel and officers of the
court had to fight their way to their places.
Corder appeared in court dressed in a new
suit of black, and with his hair combed over
his forehead. He was twenty-four years of
age; the girl he murdered twenty- seven.
There was a sulky, ill-tempered, yet smirking
expression about his face, and he seemed to
be vain of a pair of blue French spectacles
which he wore. He was, at first, calm and
unconcerned, and busied himself writing notes
to his counsel, and eyeing the witnesses smilingly
through the pitiable disguise of his spectacles.
Towards the end of the day, however, he seemed
to lose confidence, and the heavy fixedness of
his eyes gave way to occasional convulsions of
involuntary motion.

On the renewal of the trial the next day, the
prisoner appeared jaunty, cool, hardened, and
composed, until Mr. Lawton, the surgeon,
produced the skull of the murdered girl in
court, and proceeded to show with a quill how
the sword found at Ealing fitted the wound in
the orbit of the eye.

During this re-examination of Mr. Lawton,
the prisoner, who had taken off his spectacles,
replaced them, and beheld attentively this painful
spectacle. He inclined his body forward,
so as to command a full view of the skull; but
as if the effort to sustain his attitude and evince
this expression had become too great for his
nerves, he suddenly flung his back against the
pillar, hastily drew off his spectacles, and
evidently laboured under the strongest emotion.
In a few moments, however, he rallied,
replaced his glasses, took out his pocket-book,
and quickly wrote a memorandum to his leading
counsel, Mr. Brodrick, who at once wrote a
reply, which the prisoner read with close attention,
and, on the signification of a movement
from the learned counsel, tore into the smallest
fragments. His solicitor at the same time
went to the front of the dock and had a long
consultation with him.

The prisoner being called on for his defence,
advanced to the front of the bar, took out some
papers, and read his address to the court from
a thick copy-book.

He commenced by referring to the hardship
sustained by prisoners in his situation in not
being allowed the aid of counsel in their address
to the jury. He also complained of the
partial conduct of the coroner, and entreated the
court to dismiss from their minds everything
they had heard of a nature to prejudge his
cause. He then proceeded to the nucleus of the
case, stating that when he and the victim reached
the Red Barn, she, while changing her dress,
flew into a desperate passion, and upbraided
him with not having so much regard for
her as a gentleman who had been previously
alluded to. "Feeling myself in this manner
so much insulted and irritated, when I was
about to perform every kindness and reparation,
I said, 'Maria, if you go on in this way
before marriage, what have I to expect after? I
shall therefore stop when I can; I will return
straight home, and you can do what you like,
and act just as you think proper.' I said I
would not marry her. In consequence of this,
I retired from her, when I immediately heard
the report of a gun or pistol, and running
back, I found the unhappy girl weltering on
the ground. Recovering from my stupor, I
thought to have left the spot; but I endeavoured
to raise her from the ground, but found
her entirely lifeless. To my horror, I
discovered the pistol was one of my own she had
privately taken from my bedroom. There she
lay, killed by one of my own pistols, and I the
only being by! My faculties were suspended.
I knew not what to do. The instant the
mischief happened, I thought to have made it
public; but this would have added to the
suspicion, and I then resolved to conceal her
death. I then buried her in the best way I