Penny Dreadfuls, 1849 · page 220 of 394
The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 220: what you’re looking at
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LS SSSA ea esa eS SSS SsSSSESGSssistns-_—_--ap THE MYSTERIES. The Recorder summed up the evidence with firm- In fact judges are nearly always honest and dispassionate save in such in- stances as those to which we have alluded; and then, with but few exceptions, they are the rank and un- ness and impartiality. blushing partizans of the Government. It was five o’clock in the evening of this memorable day, when the jury retired to deliberate in their private room. For upwards of half-an-hour they remained absent ; —and during this interval the prisoners exhibited a nervous anxiety which, guilty though they assuredly were, was piteous to behold. Martin’s countenance was ghastly pale; and, as he was advanced in years, the spectacle which he presented to the view was one that might well engender sympathy. Ramsey vainly endeavoured to appear firm; his quivering lip—the frequent spasmodic movements of his arms—the oc- easionally wild glaring of his eyes—the twitching of the flesh at the corners of his eyes—and the glances which he threw every other moment towards the door by which the jury had left their box,—all these were indications of a soul-crushing suspense and an appalling terror. At length that door opened—and the jurymen re- turned into the Court. Slowly ard solemnly— like men who were about to take part in a funeral ceremony—did they resume their seats. All eyes were fixed upon them—a pin might have been heard to drop—the breath of every one present was sus- pended. In the minute that elapsed between the re-appear- ance of the jury and the delivery of their verdict by the foreman, the two prisoners lived whole centuries of indescribable anguish—passed through the bitter- ness of ten thousand deaths! Scenes of the busy world without flashed through their minds: all the pleasures, delights, and enjoy- ments of existence swept across their imaginations with a pageantry the brilliancy of which was height- ened a myriad times by the contrast which their own awful condition presented. Could they be doomed to die?—oh! no—it was impossible! What earthly power could snatch them away from existence?—what human hand dared grasp the fatal thunderbolts of immortal Jove to hurl at them? It appeared a dream—a whirling, maddening, hor- rible dream,—a frightful and appalling vision from which they would presently awake to the conscious- ness of its delusion and their own safety! But—Ah!—what is that dreadful word which has just stricken their ears ? “ Guitty!’—— Oh! it is no dream—no vision : it is a fearful reality ;—they are awake—and they are there ! Yes: the jury have given in their verdict;—and the Recorder places the black cap upon his head. The Clerk of the Court calls the prisoners by their names: he inquires of them whether they have any reason to allege why sentence of death should not be pronounced upon them! Reasons !—yes—ten thousand reasons! For the one is an old man who has but a few years to live in the ordinary course of nature, and it would be shock- ing to deprive him of «hat short, that trifling, that poor insignificant span: the other is young, in the prime of life, and with the vigorous constitution that promises half a century more of existence in this world! Oh! these facts suggest a myriad judge is the arch-demon in their eyes! judge winds up the barbarian sentence by invoking and Mr. Page; and, the case being thoroughly 205 reasons wherefore they should not be doomed to die! But their tongues cleave to the roofs of their mouths—they cannot utter a word—they cannot give vent to asingle syllable; and yet they have so much to say ! An awful consternation is upon them: the lights in the Court appear to burn blue—the faces that are turned from all sides towards the dock, seem ghastly and hideous—the human beings by whom they are surrounded, assume spectral shapes to their imagi- nation—the jury look like twelve fiends--the very Hark!—what are those solemn words which now break upon the awful stillness that had followed the crier’s proclamation for silence ? *Tis the death-sentence which the Recorder is BIOs nouncing ! But the prisoners cannot understand what he says: their brain is whirling fearfully—the lights are danc- ing before their eyes—spectral forms seem to be gathering in around them. Nevertheless they can comprehend this much—that they are doomed to be hanged by the neck until they are dead; and the the Almighty to have mercy upon their souls ! The turnkey touches them upon the shoulder: they mechanically follow him away from the dock—and in a few minutes Martin is the tenant of one con- demned cell, and Ramsey of another! It being now past six o’clock the Recorder quitted the Court, to join the Sheriffs, the Ordinary, the Governor of Newgate, and some of the barristers, at the dinner-table; and the Common Serjeant took his seat upon the bench. Stephen Price (alias the Big Beggarman) and Briggs were then placed in the dock. They were charged with having kidnapped and detained in unlawful custody Sir Richard Stamford proven against them, they were sentenced to trans- portation for fifteen years. With this trial the proceedings of the session ter- minated., ae CHAPTER LVIILI. THE DUCHESS AND THE COUNTESS, It was between three and four o’clock in the after- noon—and while Martin and Ramsey were in the presence of their judge—that a lady alighted from a splendid equipage at the door of the Earl of Des- borough’s mansion in Berkeley Square. She was immediately ushered with great respect to one of the magnificent drawing-rooms belonging to that dwell- ing: and while she is waiting there until the Countess makes her appearance, we will indulge ina few words descriptive of her personal charms. And charming she assuredly was, although in the thirty-eighth year of her age. Nature had lavished all her choicest gifts upon her form; and, though her countenance habitually wore a smiling sweetness of expression, yet there was an air of voluptuousness about her, surrounding and enveloping her as with a halo, that engendered undefinable sensations in the breast of the beholder—as if it were from love that | she had borrowed the impress of her witching beauty! | i , ; MICLOOOKSsaEGO©