The abduction took place in March, 1826. It caused immense excitement throughout England. Miss Turner was the daughter of Mr. Turner, of Shrigley Park, Cheshire. By means of a forged letter addressed to Miss Daulby, intimating that Miss Turner's mother was dangerously ill, the young lady was permitted to leave the school for the purpose of going home. In the carriage in waiting was Mr. E. Gibbon Wakefield, a widower with one child (a perfect stranger to Miss Turner). It is believed he had been put up to this disgraceful act of villainy by a Miss Davies, with whom he was acquainted in Paris, and who was a member of a small coterie of friends, meeting for social purposes at each other's houses. This Miss Davies afterwards became the wife of Mr. E. G. Wakefield's father. She was tried with her two stepsons for the conspiracy. The object in taking Miss Turner away was the large fortune in expectancy from her father as his sole child and heiress. Miss Turner was taken from Liverpool to Manchester, next to Kendal, and on to Carlisle, and thence across the borders and there married to Mr. Wakefield; he having represented to her that by marrying him, he could save her father from impending ruin. From Scotland, they went to London, thence to Calais, where Miss Turner was found by her relatives and taken away. The Wakefields were tried at Lancaster. Edward was found guilty of abduction and sentenced to transportation. He went to Australia in pursuance of his sentence, and after some years became the Government commissioner. The marriage with Miss Turner was not consummated. Miss Turner stated that she had received the utmost politeness and attention from Mr. Wakefield, and had been treated by him with deference and respect throughout. Had it not been for Mr. Wakefield's forbearance, it was thought that his sentence would have been different. Edward Gibbon Wakefield was said to have been a natural son of Lord Sandwich. He wrote some exceedingly clever works upon colonial matters, and on emigration. CHAPTER IX. In the fields at the top of Brownlow-hill lane, just where Clarence and Russell-streets now meet, there was once a Powder House, to which vessels used to send their gunpowder while in port. This Powder House, in the middle of the last century, was a source of anxiety to the inhabitants of the town, who fully anticipated, at any moment, a blow-up, and the destruction of the town. The Powder House was afterwards converted into a receptacle for French prisoners. My grandfather knew the place well.