The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 244: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES. rant or so wilfully criminal as to demoralise the peo- ple by means of these accursed exhibitions of public tion. But suddenly a dead silence fell upon the vast mass of spectators; and all eyes were fixed, as if spell-bound, upon the ominous scaffold. Slowly came forth the funeral procession from the deltors’ door: first the Ordinary made his appear- ance, with open prayer-book in his hands, and read- ing the service for the dead ;—close behind followed the governor of Newgate ;—then Martin and Ram- sey, both pinioned in the usual manner, ascended the steps of the platform, accompanied by the execu- ticner;—and Jastly, the Sheriffs issued from the gaol. The canntenances of the doomed men were ghastly pale: but their liu.iments were convulsed with no hideous workings. Rigid, as if the cald hand of the .| Destroyer lay already upon them, were those fea- | tures, No tears fell from their eyes: the appaliing consternation which was upon them had frozen na- ' ture’s relieving fountain at its very source. Their | senses were enchained as if under the influence of a frightful dream. Stiffened with dread horror, they could scarcely drag their limbs up the steps to the sable platform, in the middle of which were marked the outlines of the trap-door that opened downward beneath the fatal cross-beam. Their braina were seared and their feelings were blasted aa if with lightnings, There was a tingling in their ears as if evil spirits were whispering awful things: the incan- tation af a black despair was upon them. An awful terror had paralysed all their faculties : it was a fear- fal stupefaction, combined with a perfect conscious- ness of all that was passing—a species of night-mare which they could not shake aff, and which held them dumb ! Placed beneath the fatal beam—there they stood transfixed, sustaining themselves on their legs by a ' kind of mechanical instinct, and not because they sought to meet their doom with firmness. The exe- | cutioner fastened the ropes round their necks: and then, for the first time, they appeared to start from their automaton candition. For over the counte- nance of each did an indescribable expression of an- guish pass: horror glared in their eyes—the spas- | modic writhing which swept through their frames convuleed their features—and their ashy lips were | suddenly compressed as if to keep down the cry of mnestal agony that rose to the tips of their tongues. But, in another moment, the white cotton caps were drawn over those countenances now really hideous — and the executioner, leaping down the | steps, entered the vast wooden box which formed the pedesta] to that ominous gibbet above. | The Ordinary continued the funeral service—the : multitudes, still maintaining a profound silence, kept their looks rivetted on the scene of horrible interest and fearful attraction. Down came the trap-door—down fell the two doomed men: but, Oh! their fall was suddenly stopped short by the ropes to which they hung ;— and there they dangled in the air, dread spasms ing through their frames—lightnings pouring up ir brain — their hands moving rapidly up with the convulsions of dying agony. And as if the galvanism of that mortal anguish were suddenly wafted throughout the dense assem- blage of spectators, a shudder swept over the entire mass; and, even with the most brutalised and de- T af graded, it did them harm to contemplate this awful spectacle of public strangulation. _ In afew minutes, however, this feeling and that impression appeared to have lost all their effect: for, so soon as the Ordinary, the governor of Newgate, the executioner, and the Sheriffs had re-entered the prison, the practical jokes, the obscene jests, the bon- neting, and the larking began all over again—while hawkers bawled out, “ The last Dying Speeches aad Confessions of Martin and Rameey !’ And these prigted lies were eagerly caught up by those who had a halfpenny to give for them, al- though the purchasers well knew that no Dying Speeches had been made at all, and had read the Confessions in the newspapers of the preceding day. But then those narratives had a rough and rudely executed wood-cut ot a scaffold at the top—and this was the main attraction. At nine o’clock the bodies were cut down and con- veyed into the gaol, where it was understood that the corpse of Martin would be interred at midnight; but the remains of Ramsey had been claimed by some friends who were desirous to bury them elsewhere. The crowds dispersed—and all the public-houses in the neighbourhood were soon filled: the scaffold was rolled away into the press-yard of Newgate— the Ordinary and the Sheriffs sate down to an ex- cellent breakfast with the governor—and thus ended the accursed scene CHAPTER LXIV. THE PORTRAIT AND THE DRSAK It was about seven o'clock in the evening of that day on which Martin and Ramsey were executed; and we again find Mra Brace seated alone in her elegantly furnished parlour. But a visitor was speedily announced; and this was the Prince of Wales. “ My dear Fanny,” he said, flinging himself upon a seat as soon as he had removed his cloak,—“ J have been anxious to see you for three or four days past: but { could not possibly find an opportunity. Qc- tavia will however be here preseatly; and therefore I resolved to have half-an-hour’s chat with you be- fore her arrival.” “ She believes, then, that you have just returned to town?” remarked Mra, Brace, inquiringly. “Yes: I longed to see the sweet girl again—and I wrote her a note this morning, stating T came back to London last night, and that I hoped she would bless me with an interview here this evening. She ig sure ta keep the appaintment,” added his Royal Highness. “ And pray, have you ever thought how this amour is to end ?”’ asked the milliner, who had latterly be- gun to reflect that if an explosion should take place in that respects her own establishment would he ruined. “To tell you the truth,” she continued, “[ look upon it as far more serious than any other love- affair in which you were ever engaged —at least within my knowledge. For here is a young crea- ture, tender and confiding, and who believes you to be plain Mr. Harley, with a country-seat somewhere, and living at an hotel whea in town; and it must happen, sooner or later, that accident will reveal to her your real rank, Then, in the first feeling of anguish, she will betray all—everything ——” 227 COMGROO S COMM