In order for this, the captain being at Mr. Blandy’s house in August, 1750, they both agreed upon this horrid deed.  And that people might be less surprised at Mr. Blandy’s death, they began by giving out that they heard music in the house—­a certain sign (as Mr. Cranstoun had learned from a wise woman, one Mrs. Morgan, in Scotland) that the father would die in less than twelve months.  The captain, too, pretended he was endowed with the gift of second sight, and affirmed that he had seen Mr. Blandy’s apparition.  This was another certain sign of his death, as she told the servants, to whom she frequently said her father would not live long.  Nay, she went farther, and told them he would not live till the October following.

When it was she first began to mix poison with his victuals it is impossible for us to ascertain, but probably it was not long after November, 1750, when Mr. Cranstoun left Henley.  The effects of the poison were soon perceived.  You will hear Dr. Addington, his physician, tell you Mr. Blandy had for many months felt the dreadful effects of it.  One of the effects was the teeth dropping out of his head whole from their sockets.  Yet what do you think, gentlemen, the daughter did when she perceived it?  “She damned him for a toothless old rogue, and wished him at hell.”  The poor man frequently complained of pains in his bowels, had frequent reachings and sickness; yet, instead of desisting, she wanted more poison to effect her purpose.  And Mr. Cranstoun did accordingly in the April following send her a fresh supply; under the pretence of a present of Scotch pebbles, he enclosed a paper of white arsenic.  This she frequently administered in his tea; and we shall prove to you that in June, having put some of it into a dish of tea, Mr. Blandy disliking the taste, left half in the cup.  Unfortunately, a poor old charwoman (by name Ann Emmet), glad to get a breakfast, drank the remainder, together with a dish or two more out of the pot, and ate what bread and butter had been left.  The consequence was that she was taken violently ill with purging and vomiting, and was in imminent danger of her life.  The poor woman’s daughter came and told Miss Blandy how ill her mother was; she, sorry that the poison was misapplied, said, “Do not let your mother be uneasy, I will send her what is proper for her.”  And, accordingly, sent her great quantities of sack whey and thin mutton broth, than which no physician could have prescribed better, and thus drenched the poor woman for ten days together, till she grew tired of her medicines, and sent her daughter again to Miss Blandy to beg a little small beer.  “No, no small beer,” the prisoner said, “that was not proper for her.”  Most plainly, then, she knew what it was the woman had taken in her father’s tea.  She knew its effect.  She knew the proper antidotes.  Having now experienced the strength of the poison, she grew more open and undaunted, was heard to say, “Who would grudge to send an old father to hell