at Washwood Heath, no less than eight unfortunate wretches suffering the penalty of the law for committing forgeries and other crimes in this neighbourhood. There would seem to have been some little excitement in respect to this wholesale slaughter, and perhaps fears of a rescue were entertained, for there were on guard 240 of the King's Dragoon Guards, then stationed at our Barracks, under the command of Lieut. Col. Toovey Hawley, besides a detachment sent from Coventry as escort with the prisoners. The last public execution here under the old laws was that of Philip Matsell, who was sentenced to be hanged for shooting a watchman named Twyford, on the night of July 22, 1806. An alibi was set up in defence, and though it was unsuccessful, circumstances afterwards came to light tending to prove that though Matsell was a desperado of the worst kind, who had long kept clear of the punishments he had deserved, in this instance he suffered for another. There was a disreputable gang with one of whom, Kate Pedley, Matsell had formed an intimate connection, who had a grudge against Twyford on account of his interfering and preventing several robberies they had planned, and it is said that it was his paramour, Kit Pedley, who really shot Twyford, having dressed herself in Matsell's clothes while he was in a state of drunkenness. However, he was convicted and brought here (Aug 23), from Warwick, sitting on his coffin in an open cart, to be executed at the bottom of Great Charles Street. The scaffold was a rough platform about ten feet high, the gallows rising from the centre thereof. Matsell having to stand upon some steps while the rope was adjusted round his neck. During this operation he managed to kick his shoes off among the crowd, having sworn that he would never die with his shoes on, as he had been many a time told would be his fate. The first execution at Winson Green Gaol was that of Henry Kimberley (March 17, 1885) for the murder of Mrs. Palmer.
Exhibitions.—It has long been matter of wonder to intelligent foreigners that the "Toyshop of the World" ("Workshop of the World" would be nearer the mark) has never organised a permanent exhibition of its myriad manufactures. There is not a city, or town, and hardly a country in the universe that could better build, fit up, or furnish such a place than Birmingham; and unless it is from the short-sighted policy of keeping samples and patterns from the view of rivals in trade—a fallacious idea in these days of commercial travellers and town agencies—it must be acknowledged our merchants and manufacturers are not keeping up with the times in this respect. Why should Birmingham be without its Crystal Palace of Industry when there is hardly an article used by man or woman (save food and dress materials) but what is made in her workshops? We have the men, we have the iron, and we have the money, too! And it is to be hoped that ere many years are over, some of our great guns will see their way to construct a local Exhibition that shall attract people from the very ends of the earth to this "Mecca" of ours. As it is, from the grand old days of Boulton and his wonderful Soho, down to to-day, there has been hardly a Prince or potentate, white, black, copper, or coffee coloured, who has visited England, but that have come to peep at our workshops, mayor after mayor having the "honour" to toady to them and trot them around the back streets and slums to where the men of the bench, the file, and the hammer have been diligently working generation after generation, for the fame and the name of our world-known town. As a mere money speculation such a show-room must pay, and the first cost, though it might be heavy, would soon be recouped by the influx of visitors, the increase of orders, and the advancement of trade that would result. There have been a few exhibi-
