corporation of the town in 1838, and the
establishment of Quarter Sessions, Mr. Edmonds was appointed Clerk of
the Peace. He was then seriously ill, and was supposed to be dying. It
was understood at the time, that the appointment was made as a solace
to him in his then condition, and as a recognition, which would be
pleasant to him, of the services he had rendered to his native town.
It was not expected that he would survive to undertake the duties of
the office. He, however, lived to perform them for more than thirty
years. He himself had so little expectation of recovery that, from
what he supposed to be his dying bed, he wrote to Mr. William Morgan,
urging him to announce himself as a candidate for the office, so soon,
in all probability, to become vacant. Mr. Morgan refrained from so
doing, and Mr. Edmonds nominated him his deputy. In that capacity Mr.
Morgan acted at the first Sessions held in the town.

As years rolled on, Mr. Edmonds became at times very absent in
mind, causing occasionally great merriment in court by the ludicrous
mistakes he made. When the Sessions-room was altered a few years ago,
the jury box was placed on the opposite side of the court to that
it had formerly occupied, but Mr. Edmonds's mind never realised
the change. While juries were considering their verdict, it was
Mr. Edmonds's practice to engage in conversation with some of the
barristers; and he sometimes became so lost in these discussions as
to take no heed of his duties. Mr. Hill, the Recorder, enjoyed these
little scenes intensely. On one occasion, when the jury was waiting
to deliver a verdict, the Recorder had to call him from one of these
little chats, to receive it. Edmonds turned to the old spot, and
seeing no one there, said, "There is no jury, sir." Upon which, Mr.
Hill, smiling, said, "If you'll turn round, Mr. Edmonds, you'll see
the jury laughing at you." In some confusion, Edmonds turned round,
and, his mind being somewhat uncollected, he asked, "What say you, Mr.
Foreman, are you guilty or not guilty?" On another occasion he took
up, by mistake, from his desk, an indictment against a man who had
been tried and sentenced, and charging the prisoner, who was a female,
read, "John Smith, you stand indicted," &c. The Recorder, jocularly
rebuking him, said he had never known a woman named John Smith before.
The woman was sent down, and Edmonds insisted in having the real John
Smith up, and he again began the charge. The pri