The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 237: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The adjacent pews were filled with elegantly dressed ladies—some from the City, and others from the West End,—bvé all attracted thither to Nisten to the Condemned Sermon, and see the doomed men who were to be hanged on the fol- wing morning. Oh ! talk not of the vitiated taste and the mor- bid curiosity which influence the multitudes that flock to places of public execution: for if rags and tatters go thither, silks and satis were ever wont to repair to the Chapel of Newgate to hear the fane- eal exhortation of the Ordinary, until the proceed- mg amounted to a scandal and a shame which rang shroughout Europe. Then the authorities inter- posed—and a salutary prohibition was the resulé. But on the occasion of which we are writing,—n those “good old times’ which the people’s oppres- eors love to prate about,—the Sabbath preceding the fatal day of public strangulation, was invested with all possible horrors for the two condemned wretches, end with all possible entertainment for the well- dressed gentlemen and elegantly attired ladies who had heen fortunate enough to obtain tickets of ad- mission. Separated from all the rest—rendered most pain- ‘fully conspicuous—enclosed in that circular pew, Martin and Rameey were enduring the damnable tortures of a moral Inquisition, preparatory to the afernal crowning catastrophe. If they raised their eyes, they beheld a bigotted, dogmatic, and superstitious Ordinary, endeavouring «© establish a reputation for pulpit eloquence at the expense of their feelings already so acutely wrung :— if they looked around them, they saw beauteous faces gazing intently upon them, and bright eyes watching every movement of their muscles with the keenest curtosity ;“—and if they glanced downward, their vision was appalled by those black objects of sinister shape which stood at their feet. It was horrible—horrible ! And yet those two doomed men were expected to compose their thoughts to prayer, and fix their ideas only and wholly upon the eternity into which they were 80 soon to be hurried! But— Almighty God! how was this pobsible! Tam whichever way they would, their eyes en- countered something to recall their imaginations most painfully—most agonisingly to the affsirs of this world, and to the beings who render it a scene of barbarism, wretchedness, and oppression. Oh! would it not have been better far to allow those men, already hovering between two spheres— that of mortality and that of eternity, —would it not have been more humane, more just, more consistent with true religious fecling, to leave them each in his solitary cell, and thither send the minister of Christ 0 console—to sooth—to pray—and to promise! Wherefore permit those curious spectators to flock thither on such an occasion !—why convert the tem- ple of worship into a stage for the representation of a melodrama of thrilling interest ?—wiry place the em- blems of the grave at the feet of the doomed wretches f Because all these proceedings were consistent with the despotic times and sanguinary laws of George I[[—that monarch who was made up of mad- vess, bigotry, deception, and bloody-mindedness : be- cause everything in that age was done with a view to strike terror into the public mind, and thereby those systems of cruelty, barbarism, tyranny, super stition, and wrong, which the millions are enlight ened enough to denounce, and humane enough te shudder at! In a retired corner of the Chapel, George Wood- fall—that young and interesting artist who has already introduced to our readers—was seated. He was thither by no sentiment of morbid curiosity: his nature was above such au ignominious feeling. But he had been sent by his griping old master—the greedy, avaricious picture- dealer—to study the coun- tenance of Philip Ramsey, in order to tranafer it te canvass at his leisure. For so much interest had attached itself to the trial of the forgera, and so highly had the priws spoken of the handsome appear- ance and elegant manners of the younger convict, that Mr. Shrubsole felt assured of obtaining a sale and a good price for a portrait of this individual. The reverend Ordinary droned a long and clurasily-composed sermon, by the details of which he had hoped to produce a thrilling effect upon his auditory: and if he could only succeed in wringing tears from the two condemned culprits—Oh! what a grand proof of his eloquence would that be—anc what a telling circumstance to have reported in tLe newspapers of the following morning | Qne or two of the elegant ladies who were assem- bled there, thought it necessary to squeese out a few tears; and Mr. Soper pursed up his mouth and en- deavoured to look as sentimental as possible. In the gallery, amongst the male prisoners, were the Big Beggarman and Briggs, to whosé case the Ordinary likewise alladed—exhorting them and other convicts to take warning from the dreadful spectacle presented to their view by the occupants of the cir- cular enclosure. This advice did not however seem to produce any salutary effect: for the Big Beggar- man, stooping his head, whispered some coarse re- mark to his friend Briggs, who responded in an equally irreverent manner, The service was concluded: the prisoners, male and female, were marched back to their wards ;—and the two doomed men were re-consigned each to his condemned cell, The congregation dispersed; and the Ordinary accepted an invitation to lunch with the governor of Newgate—well knowing that in ad- dition to such substantial or cheering comforts as cold pigeon-pie, bottled stout, and cherry-brandy, he should receive the more frothy but ecarcely less we) come compliments which his sermon was express!y fabricated to elicit. e ® e e Damp, raw, and misty broke the fatal Monday morning ; and immense crowds were collected in the Old Bailey and in every avenue leading thither. At the debtors’ door of Newgate stood the terrible machine—the huge platform, with its black beans towering high above the heads of the assembled masees. The bell of St. Sepulchre, which had already begun to toll, appeared to havea gloomier sound thas usual, as its iron tongue struck deep and solemn on the ear: more sombre than ever frowned the solid masonry of Newgate upon the gathered multitudes; —and the very air seemed to have acquired a mom searching and penetrating chill. Nevertheless, the crowds commenced their ribald check civilisation, freedom, and progress ;—and be- | jesting, practical jokes, and licentious conversatioa- DOOKS (G COMM cause our legislators and rulers invariahly support ! fer our precious rulers are cither so besottedly igno- ——— ee I” SS ps PS co