The Trial Of Sarah****, Alias Slim Sal Poem by Sidi Mahtrow

The Trial of Sarah****, Alias Slim Sal,
For Privately stealing,
The Pris'ner was at large indicted,
For that by thirst of gain excited,
One day in July last at tea,
And in the house of Mrs. P.
From the left breast of E. M. Gent,
With base felonious intent,
Did then and there a heart with strings,
Rest quite, peace and other things,
Steal, rob, and plunder, and all them
The chattels of the said E. M.
The prosecutor swore last May
(the month he knew but not the day)
He left his friends in Town, and went
Upon a visit down in Kent;
That staying there a month or two
He spent his time, as others do,
In riding, walking, fishing, swimming,
But being much inclin'd to women,
And young and wild, and no great reas'ner,
He got acquainted with the pris'ner.
He own'd was rumour'd in these parts
That she'd trick of stealing hearts,
And from fifteen to twenty-two
Had made the devil-and-all to do;
But Mr. W. the Vicar
(And no man brews you better liquor)
Spoke of her thefts as tricks of youth,
The frolicks of a girl forsooth;
Things now were on another score
He said, for she was twenty-four.
However, to make matters short,
And not to trespass on the court
the lady was discover'd soon,
And thus it was One afternoon,
The ninth of July last, or near it,
(As to the day he could not swear it)
In company at Mrs. P's,
Where folks say any thing they please,
Dean L., and Lady Mary by,
And Fanny waiting on Miss Y.
(He own'd he was inclin'd' to think
Both were a little in their drink)
The pris'ner ask'd, and call'd him Cousin,
How many kisses made a dozen?
That being as he won'd in liquor
The question made his blood run quicker,
And sense and reason in eclipse
He vow'd he'd score them on her lips:
That rising up to keep his word
He got as far as kiss the third,
And would have counted th' other nine,
And so all present did opine,
But tat he felt a sudden dizziness
That quite undid him for the business;
His speech he said began to falter,
His eyes to stare, his mouth to water,
His breast to thump without cesiation,
And all within one conflagration.
'Bless me! ' says Fanny, 'what's the matter? '
And Lady Mary look'd hard at her,
And stamp'd and with'd the pris'ner further,
And cry'd out, 'Part them, or there's murther! '
That still he held the pris'ner fast,
And would have stood it to the last,
But struggling to go thro' the rest
He felt a pain across his breast,
A sort of sudden twinge he said,
That seem'd almost to strike him dead,
And after that such cruel smarting
He thought the soul and body parting;
That then he let the pris'ner go,
And stagger'd off a step or so,
And thinking that his heart was ill
He begg'd of Miss Y's maid to feel:
That Fanny stepp'd before the rest
And laid her hand upon his breast,
But mercy on us! What a stare
The creature gave! No heart was there:
Souse went her fingers in the hole,
Whence heart and strings and all were stole;
That Fanny turn'd and told the pris'ner
She was thief, and so she'd christen her,
And that it was a burning shame
And brought the house an evil name,
And if she did not put the heart in
The man would pine and die for certain,
The pris'ner then was in her airs,
And bid her mind her own affairs,
And told his Rev'rence and the rest of ‘em
She was as honest as the est of ‘em;
That lady Mary and dean L.
Rose up and said ‘t was mighty well;
But that in gen'ral terms they said it,
A heart was gone and some one had it;
Words would not do, for search thy must,
And search they would, and her the first:
That then the pris'ner drop'd her anger,
And said she hop'd they would not hang her;
That all she did was meant in jest,
And there the heart was and the rest;
That then the dean cry'd out O sy!
And sent in haste for justice I.
Who tho' he knew her friends and pity'd her
Call'd her hard names, and so committed her.
The parties present swore the same,
And Fanny said the pris'ner's name
Had frighten'd all the country round,
And glad the bill was found:
She knew a man who knew another,


who knew the very party's brother
Who lost his heart by more surprise
One morning looking at her eyes;
And others had been known to speak
Who only chanc'd to hear her speak;
For she had words of such a sort
That tho' she knew no reason for ‘t
Would make a man of sense run mad,
And rifle him of all he had;
And that she'd rob the whole community
If ever she had the opportunity
The pris'ner now first silence broke,
And curtsy'd round her as she spoke.
She won'd she said it much incens'd her
To hear such matters sworn against her
But that she hop'd to keep her temper,
And prove herself eadem semper;
That what the prosecutor swore
Was some part true and some part more:
She own'd she had been often seen with him,
And laugh'd and chatted on the green with him;
The fellow seem'd tohav humanity,
And told her tales that sooth'd her vanity,
Pretending that he lov'd her vanity,
And that all women else look'd ghastly:
But then she hop'd the court would think
She never was inclin'd to drink,
Or suffer hands like his to daub her,
Or encourage men to kiss and slobber her:
She'd have folks know she did not love it,
Or if she did she was above it:
But she said was sworn of corse
To prove her giddy and then worse,
As she whose conduct was thought levis
Might very well be reckon'd thievish.
She hop'd she said the court's discerning
Would pay some honour to her learning,
For eve'ry day from four to past six
She went up stairs and read the classicks.
Thus having clear'd herself of levity,
The rest she said would come with brevity.
And first it injur'd not her honour
To own the heart was found upon her,
For she could prove, and did aver,
The paltry thing belong'd to her.
The fact was thus. This prince of knaves
Was once the humblest of her slaves,
And often had confess'd the dart
Her eyes had lodg'd within his hear:
That she, as ‘t was her constant fashion,
Made great diversions of his passions,
Which set his blood in such a ferment
As seem'd to threaten his interment:
That then she was afraid of losing him,
And so desisted from abusing him.
And often came and felt his pulse,
And bid him write to Doctor Hulse.
The prosecutor thank'd her kindly,
And sigh'd and said she looked divinely:
But told her that his heart was bursting,
And doctors he had little trust in;
He therefore begg'd her to accept it,
And hop'd would mend if once she kept it:
That having no aversion to it,
She said with all her soul she'd do it;
But then she begg'd him to remember
If he should need it in December
(For winter months would make folks shiver
Who wanted either heart or liver)
It never could return; and added
'Twas her's for life if once she had it.
The prosecutor said Amen,
Ant that he wish'd it not again,
And took it from his breast and gave her,
And bow'd and thank'd her for the favour,
But begg'd the thing might not be spoke of,
As heartless men were made a joke of:
That next day whisp'ring him about it,
And asking how he felt without it?
He sigh'd, and cry'd, 'Alack! Alack! '
And begg'd and pray'd to have it back,
O'r that she'd give him her's instead on ‘t,
But she conceiv'd there was no need on ‘t,
And said and bid him make no pother,
He should have neither one nor th' other:
That then he rav'd and storm'd like Fury,
And said that one was he de jure,
And rather than he'd leave pursuing her
He'd swear a robbery and ruin her.
That was the truth she did aver
Whatever hap betided her;
Only that Mrs. P. she said,
Miss Y. and her deluded maid,
And Lady Mary, and his Reverence,
Were folks to whom she paid some deference,
And that she verily believ'd
They were not perjur'd but deceiv'd
Then Doctor D. beg'd leave to speak,
And sigh'd as if his heart would break.
He said that he was Madam's surgeon,
Or rather, as in Greek, chirurgeon,
From chier, manus, ergon, opus,
(As scope is from the Latin scopus :)
That he he said had known the prisoner
From the first sun that ever rise on her,
And griev'd he was to see her there,
But took upon himself to swear
There was not to be found in nature
A sweeter or a better creature;
And if the king (God bless him!) Knew her
He'd leave St. James's to get to her;
But then as to the fact in question
He knew no more on't that Hephestion;
It might be false and might be true,
And this he said was all he knew.
The judge proceeded to the charge,
And gave the evidence at large,
But often cast a sheep's eye at her,
And strove to mitigate the matter,
Pretending facts were not so clear,
And mercy might to interfere.
The jury then withdrew a moment
As if on weighty points to comment,
And right or wrong resolv'd to save her
They gave a verdict in her favour.
But why or wherefore things were so
It matters not for us to know
The culprit by escape grown old
Pilfers alike from young and old,
The country all around her teases,
And robs or murders whom she pleases.

Edward Moore (March 22,1712 – March 1,1757) , was born at Abingdon, Berkshire. The above poem is to be found in several books of his poetry. This from: The Poetical Works of Edward Moore. Edinburg, At the Apollo Press, By the Martins. 1781. Pp 126.

Some see a similarity in his poetry and that of John Jay and Thomas Gray. His rhymes are both pleasant and a bit of a tease. He was an astute marketer and recognized that women could both read and write. As such, his poems and other writings were directed to this new found market and one can imagine that while the husbands held the purse strings, the women had a distinct voice in what literature might be bought and brought into their homes.

Sadly, Moore
And civility are no more.