« PreviousContinue »
The sinless soul of the cherub child that dies on its My dear friend, -As I have always, hitherto, mother's breast, wings its way to heaven, unconscious
found you faithful to me, without one single deviation, of the joys it might have shared here, as well as the I feel persuaded that you will obey the last request I many, many miseries of which it might have been the shall ever make of you in this world, and instantly partaker. This can hardly be called death. It is but attend my dying bed. I did not think to receive you the calm, soft ebbing of the gentle tide of life, to flow thus, after so long an absence ; but my medical friends no more in the troubled ocean of existence :-it is but tell that I cannot survive many days—perhaps not the removal of a fair creature-“ too pure for earthly many hours. My servant bas brought a horse for you. stay,”—to make one of that bright band of cherubims,
" Your's ever sincerely, which encompassses in glory and in joy the throne of
« E. R." the living God! But, glorious as the change may be Alas : my poor friend! Little did I expect, when it is a hard thing for the fond mother to part thus last the native loveliness of his disposition—" which early with her little one:
hid its own to hide all others' woe,”-dissipated my 'Tis hard to lay her darling
gloomy feelings— little did I think that our next meetDeep in the cold damp earth;
ing was to be thus ! But I was summoned to act, and His empty crib to see,
not to reflect; and, mounting the horse which had His silent nursery,
been provided for me, I bastened to obey the melanOnce gladsome with his mirth.
choly summons. My friend's house was about five To meet again, in slumber,
miles up, among the hills. But I am not about to give His sweet mouth's rosy kiss;
a detail of my journey : what is a splendid landscape Then, waken'd with a start,
without the feeling to enjoy it. What spots look beauBy her own throbbing heart, His twining arms to miss.
tiful, when the heart is sad ? And who, with a
troubled mind, can so far control the fury of the mental To feel (half conscious why) A dall, heart-sinking weight,
elements, as to bid defiance to their power? I never Till memory on her soul
could ;-calmness, at such times, is with me impossible. Flashes the painful whole,
I reached the mansion, where the last rays from the That she is desolate ;
lamp of life were rapidly growing more dark; all And, then, to lie and weep,
there was gloomy, and every countenance looked pale, And think the live-long night,
in melancholy anticipation of the coming woe. But (Feeding her own distress
ere I enter the chamber of death, I must speak of With accurate greediness) Of every past delight.
the poor friend whom I was thus called to visit.
His had been an infancy never gazed upon with the Of all his winning ways,
smile of parental satisfaction ; no joy at his birth had His pretty, playful smiles, His joy, his ecstasy,
been diffused over the family, and no tongue had His tricks, bis mimicry,
uttered the words of heartfelt congratulation. His And all his little wiles.
childhood had been tended with no mother's care, and Ah! these are recollections
his boyhood watched over with no father's fondness ;Round Mother's hearts that cling
his youth had been cherished by no fostering protecThat mingle with the tears
tion, and his manhood was uncrowned with the blessAnd smiles of after years, With oft awakening!
ing of success. Such was the melancholy picture,
that, with Edward R—, had been the portrait of Yet, after all, how little does individual misery, or reality. Gloom, and sorrow, and affliction, frowned misfortune, affect the great mass of mankind. “When upon his very birth-hour! His father was removed I reflect,'? observes Pope, in a letter to Addison, from a world, which he so much benefited, before he “ what an inconsiderable atom every single man is, beheld his son; and his mother sank beneath the with respect to the whole creation, methinks it is a anguish of a mother's pangs, in giving life to her shame to be concerned at the removal of such a trivial beloved one. animal as I am. The morning after my exit, the sun The crudest questions of legal doubt had involved will shine as bright as ever, the flowers smell as sweet, their child's expectancy in protracted discussion; bis the plants spring up as green ; the world will proceed infancy had been nurtured by the hand of strangers, in its old conrse ; people will laugh as heartily, and and his childhood passed beneath the roof of hospitable, marry as fast as they were used to do. The memory but foreign kindness, till, with the opening views of of inan passeth away, as the remembrance of a guest youth, the spirit of a wanderer came upon him ; and that tarrieth but one day !”
possession of his rights being at length awarded bim, These reflections have been engendered by the re- he had divided his portion with the strangers who had membrance of an event which will form a suitable, and, protected him, and, with an energy capable of the I trust, not uninteresting corollary to such an intro- highest achievements, had gone forth to ruminate upon duction : at all events, the reader shall have an oppor- the vestiges of foriner grandeur, and enwrap himself in tunity of judging for himself. At the beginning of the contemplation of departed greatness. Sucb was the summer just passed, I left London on a visit to my his wayward fancy. My friend had endured all things, native place, many miles distant from the metropolis. hoped all things, and believed all things; his sufferI had not been there for some years, and delightful ings had taught him patience, and his disappointments were the anticipations which were awakened in my shown him the illusion of all hope's foundations, ' and heart, at the idea of meeting so many old and valued all the world's promises. Unrepining, he had endured friends. On the morning after my arrival, I received the long and cheerless night of poverty; and every the following letter:
cloud of woe was his familiar. He had gazed on the
of feeling to which I felt unequal. To be alone with a dying man is sufficiently appalling; to be alone with a dying friend, is indeed a trial!
For some time he continued exhausted in seeming senselessness; but, at length recovering, he gazed wildly round the room, and said, “ James, are you here alone ?" I replied that I was. “ Are you sure ?”– “ Perfectly.”—Then I have a secret to communicate. You well know you never saw me afraid at any time; -danger never looked terrible to me ; but I am fearful now ; now I am indeed afraid !”– Afraid of what ?" I denranded, “ You have not, I am persuaded, left all till now.”—“No, no !” repeated he, with warmth. You can attest, that in all my sufferings, I always made my God the rock of my confidence, and in my last hour he has not suffered me to fall from him. With heaven my accounts are settled ; but-(and he added it with apparent reluctance)-I have an earthly enemy!"“ This is not a time, Edward, to think of earthly ene. mies.”_" God forbid !” replied he,
" that such a thought should dwell within the bosom of a dying man, Earth has done me much wrong, and earth I have forgiven ; to Heaven I have offered greater injuries, and Heaven has, I trust, too, in its mercy, pardoned me. I cherish not earthly enmity ; but you remember that
* has possession of a will, which I long since executed, and which he has never returned. I know his motives, and have, therefore, counteracted them by
Draw your chair nearer
, and and of it you are the sole executor.” At these words.
visages of foreign men and foreign climes; he had looked at Greece sinking under her slavery, and Rome degraded by her superstition. He had witnessed the dimness of ages, brooding over the mouldering monuments of departed glory; and every clime and every country bad been traversed by him,—the wastes of Africa, and the sands of Egypt, -the torrid and the frigid zones had been penetrated ; and, after the calm endurance of perils by land and perils by water,-after kaving been in journeyings often, in perils of robbers, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the wilderness, and in weariness, aud painfulness, and watchings: in hunger and in thirst, and all things that are incident to an unsheltered wanderer over this world's surface, he had returned to inherit, for a few years, the mansion of his forefathers, and to render up his spirit in his native land. Thus liad the inorning of my friend's days passed by. I need not here recount how our friendship had commenced, since the evening of his mortal conflict, and the evening of our mutual attachment, grew dark at the same moment.
After some short preparation, I was introduced into. his chamber, the chamber of sickness and of sorrow ; of flattering hopes and disappointed wishes, yet of faith triumphant, even over death itself.
“Ah, my dear fellow !" he exclaimed, holding ont his cold clammy hand to meet mine, as I approached his bed-side ; “I knew you would not let me die alone, I was assured of it, and I have been anxiously looking for your arrival. let the residue of my fast-fleeting sands run out in your presence. I looked round the room, and beheld the faces of those to whose tender charge his younger days had been committed ; but every aspect was wan, and every eye was weeping. We recognized each other, but it was in silence ; one object alone demanded our individual attention, and on him every look was fixed. “ Alas! my friend, to think that you and I, who bore the burthen of poverty, and all the cares of foreign travel together,—that we, who have continued, since the dawning of mind, in friendship unbroken and unrestrained ;—to think that—to think that you and these should now be assembled to witness my final separation from you! it is painful it is more than painful; it is enough to bow down the spirit in the hour of its trial, and to shake its confidence in its Creator-in its eternal friend. Oh! my friends, what shall I say to you? How shall I give utterance to the thoughts that press upon me! Life is now ebbing fast. Oh! speak to me, then--speak to me individually. Have I wronged any of you ? If I have, I repent; and will you forgive me?" He was here interrupted by a sobbing assurance that every debt of gratitude had been more than paid. “ More than paid !” he exclaimed, and his voice strengthened as he spoke“ More than paid ! Were my life extended to thrice the period it now is, the debt would never-never be discharged! I owe you all more than I can ever now pay; and to one of you—(pressing my hand with nature's feebleness)--to one of you I owe more than all!” His voice now sank to a whisper ; and his physician, deeming that the presence of more than one friend would but hasten his last hour, and supposing that he might have matters of a private nature to communicate to me, retired with all beside, leaving me alone with my dying friend. But now came a struggle
he put his hand under the pillow, and drawing out a sealed packet, gave it to me, together with a key “ There,” he said, “ you know of what drawer that is the key : all that I have is contained there, and it is not safe in any hands but yours. And now,” he con. tinued, “ when the shadow of my existence has passed. away, you will act for me. I have tried you, James, and I trust in you ; and henceforth I banish all worldly concerns for ever!"
At these words nature sank exhausted, respiration became more difficult, and he fell into a seeming foretaste of dissolution. I watched him, till, at length, he woke once more ; and observing the tears stealing down my cheeks, he broke forth; Weep not for me, my friend, weep not for me I have suffered much— I have endured much ; I have seen expectations vanish, and hopes decay ; but all these are the common lot of man.
the darkness of the grave, and soon to me shall the silence of the tomb be as it were a brother ; yet, in my faith, and with confidence in Heaven, do 1 trust, through that circle of ages, which shall have no limit, to join the spirits of the just made perfect, and hymn the praises of my Redeemer and my God.” Increasing feebleness forbade all farther effort, and I immediately summoned his other friends, perceiving that life was fast fleeting for ever. In a faint tone he blessed us singly, as we stood round his bed ; and having once more recovered strength to speak, he took my hand, and pressing it affectionately to his heart, said: “ Accept my best and latest thanks. I look forward to meeting you again in a world, where sorrow, and tears, and parting, shall be unknown.” One feeble long-drawn sigh-one last convulsive thrill of parting nature's agony—and all was hushed ! The darkness of death encompassed all that was bright in friendship
and disinterested in regard ! The earthly house of his
THE EPPING GIPSEY. tabernacle dissolved, and now prayer cannot follow, praise availeth not, tears weep themselves in vain. In the summer of the year 1793, the Forest of EpWhither he hath gone before, I, and all must one day ping became the resort of a numerous clan of gipsies, follow; but memory can linger upon the days which are whose depredations on the surrounding farm-houses vanished, though gloom settles over their horizon, rendered them exceedingly obnoxious to the inhabitants affection may be torn asunder, but faith will reunite it! of the neighbourhood, by whom they were viewed with
Thus, from a world, which had so cruelly and des- considerable apprehensions, not only on account of pitefully used bim, vanished the spirit of my poor their disposition to plunder, but from the well-known friend. I dwell not upon the after-scene of death. ferocity of their gang. Scarcely a night passed without The hand that has thus imperfectly penned the relation a robbery having been committed ; and so daring were of the last moments of one, to whom my own soul was the marauders, that farmers were attacked on the public bound with the strongest cords of attachment, was the high-way, and robbed and ill-treated, at noon day. The hand which performed the final office, when it closed magistrates of the county were applied to without efhis eyes in that unwaking slumber which bringeth rest fect ; for the local constables, who were generally petty to the weariness of man. And who, after witnessing farmers, were too timid to enter the precincts of these such a scene, would not feel all the chilling eloquence formidable free-booters, either to search for stolen proof a celebrated modern writer, when he asks: “ Have perty, or to execute a warrant of arrest; so that the you never thought, when called to the chamber of the gipsies had little to apprehend from the power of the dying man,—when you saw the warning of death npon law. Indeed, the best policy under the circumstances his countenance, and how its symptoms gathered and seemed to be, to wink at the loss of a stray sheep or a grew, and got the ascendancy over all the ministrations few geese, to treat a chance member of the gipsy camp of human care and of human tenderness—when it every with a cup of your home-brewed ale, or to toss a few day became more visible that the patient was drawing halfpence amongst their little ragged, sun-burnt chilto his close, and that nothing in the whole compass of dren, who would often wander to the neighbouring art, or any of its resources, could stay the advances of villages to seek for what they could pick up. Thanks the sure and last malady; have you never thought, on to the excellent arrangement of our police, and our able seeing the bed of the sufferer surrounded by other com- and efficient magistracy, things are now in a better forters than those of the Patriarch; when, from morn- state, ing to night, and from night to morning, the watchful The gipsies, although in many parts of England and family sat at his couch, and guarded his broken slum- Scotland they are still to be seen hovering on the out. bers, and interpreted all his signals, and tried to hide skirts of society, are a declining race, and in a few from his observation the tears that attested him to be years more will, in all probability, become totally exthe kindest of parents ;—when the sad anticipation tinct. Aware that their mode of life is unlawful, and spread its gloomy stillness over the household, and that they are rather endured than protected in a count even sept forth an air of seriousness and concern upon where good order is so strongly enforced, they are cauthe members of other families ;-when you have wit- tious how they commit the least excess, lest they should nessed the despair of friends, who eould only turn them draw upon their heads the terrors of the law. But up to cry at the spectacle of his last agonies, and had to the close of the last century, the name of gipsey was seen how little it was that weeping children and enquir-generally coupled with that of robber, and every ing neighbours could do for him;—when you have con- species of excess was committed by these reckless trasted the unrelenting necessity of the grave with the vagrants. feebleness of every surrounding endeavour to ward it The leader of the formidable gang, to which we have off ;-has the thought never entered within you-how | just referred, was named George Young, whose first powerless is the desire of man !how sure and how breath was drawn in a gipsy tent, and whose limbs, resistless is the decree of God ?"
from that moment to the hour of his death, never rested For my own part, I have witnessed death in all on a softer bed than that which the earth afforded. His shapes, and in all the modifications of its horror. I temper and habits partook naturally of the wild life in have seen life rush forth in the heat and turmoil of the which he had been reared. He was bold, determined, battle, and escape amid the hurried tramplings of the and ferocious, added to which, he possessed a copstitufoe. I have seen death on the ocean and on the land, tion of robust health, and a frame of great muscular by suddenness, by violence, by the sword, and by strength and activity. Unaided as he was by the adfamine,—in mine own and in foreign climes. I have vantages resulting from education, be at times disseen the victim of self and of another's murder, and played no mean capacity; and he had something in have gazed on the agonized countenance of the game- his demeanour and appearance which seemed to raise ster's pale remains : but I do not remember ever to him far above those with whom he associated. have experienced so great a trial to my feelings, as peared ardently attached to the life he bad chosen ; and when I thus beheld Death take his silent station, and he has been known to declare, that he would not excome on by slow and certain progress, till he planted change his condition for a bed of down and a home of his blow with firmness, and bade the waters of life luxury. According to the most authentic account return chilled to their sources, till he froze up the which we have been enabled to gather of his person, he channels of their issue for ever!
was nearly six feet in height, and his frame was one of uncommon strength. His usual dress was a loose coat of gray frieze, fastened round the middle with a leather belt ; a broad leafed hat which he usually wore slouched over his sun-burnt features; bare legs, and strong
ear to ear.
shoes. The only weapon, offensive or defensive, which been effected, it was evident that some strong and sudappeared upon his person, was a huge ash staff, which den motive had urged their departure. Not a traces he used when walking. It was believed, however, that however, could here be discovered of the object of their he was provided with weapons of a more destructive search ; but being determined not to return without nature.
gaining some clue to the fate of their companion, they It happened that, whilst the terror raised by the de- divided their party for the purpose of exploring the predations of the gipsies was at its height, a poor lone neighbouring thickets. Their exertions were crowned woman, who inhabited a miserable cottage on the bor- with success ; on a patch of dark green grass, surders of the forest, was robbed of her little all, consist- rounded on every side by thick trees, through which ing of three guineas and some silver, which she had the last beams of the setting sun could scarcely penecarefully hoarded up to purchase a cow. Her lamenta- trate, they discovered the body of the unfortunate tions excited the sympathy of a young man, a wheel- young man stretched out, cold and lifeless, with a deswright, named Dorkins, to whom she had made known perate gash on the right temple, and his throat cut from her loss, and he secretly determined to proceed to the
A broken ash staff, stained with clotted gipsies' haunt, and demand restitution in the name of blood, lay on the ground; and from the trampled apthe poor woman, whom they had so cruelly robbed. pearance of the grass around the body, it was evident Dorkins was a young man of considerable spirit, and that the deceased had offered to his assailants a vigorous having acquired some celebrity in the neighboured for and prolonged resistance. his strength and agility, felt, perhaps, no small degree The terror excited by the news of this inhuman of confidence in his bodily powers, should the gipsies murder can hardly be described. The body having attempt to assault him. He would have endeavoured been conveyed to an inn at Epping, a jury was sumto prevail on one of his companions to accompany him moned to investigate the matter. The evidence of the in his enterprise, but he knew how useless would be the old woman seemed to confirm the general belief, that attempt ; besides, having a dash of the romantic in his the gipsies had perpetrated the dreadful crime, and composition, he was unwilling to share the fame of the their sudden disappearance left scarcely a doubt upon exploit with another. The truth is, the young man the subject. The crowd collected round the inn was was in love, and having a rival, though not a very suc- immense ; and the body, in compliance with a popular cessful one, he was anxious to distinguish himself in superstition, was exposed to public inspection, in order the eyes of his mistress, in order to gain her good opi- that those, against whom suspicion was entertained, nion. Bent on this hazardous undertaking he left his should undergo the ordeal of touching it. As there was home, and directed his steps, on the evening of a fine but one opinion, however, as to the authors of the summer's day, towards the gipsies. tents, which were murder, it was considered unnecessary that any of the pitched on a piece of open ground in the centre of the spectators should try the experiment; but a number of forest, which at this time was nearly as unfrequented, the companions of the deceased voluntarily walked excepting by gamekeepers and poachers, as many of the round the mangled corse, and touched it as they passed. woods of America are at the present day. Young Dor
one amongst the number, however, who kins entered the thickets with a fearless heart, but kept aloof from the assembled crowd, and seemed to never returned to tell the result of his adventure.
shun the object which all appeared so desirous to view. Three days having elapsed since the evening on It was Walter Savage, a first cousin of the murdered which he was missed from home, his family and friends, young man, and the rival in his love.
An enmity of a and indeed the entire neighbourhood, expressed the long standing had existed between them. It arose out most serious apprehensions for his safety; nor where of a wrestling match, in which Dorkins threw Walter, these apprehensions at all diminished by the sudden whose pride was sensibly touched by his defeat, that he disappearance of the gipsies. Not a straggler was to never afterwards forgave him. be seen on the outskirts of the forest ; and the tops of Walter had taken to bad courses ; was addicted to their tents, which could till now be distinguished from drink and evil company, and had no other means of the high grounds of Epping that overlooked a portion subsistence than what he derived from his dangerous of the wooded scenery, were no longer visible. The pursuit as a deer-stealer. Connecting these circumfears of the neighbours were further confirmed by the stances with the murder, it was surprising nobody susold woman—the unhappy cause of the young man's pected that he might have had some hand in it. His rash undertaking. She related the nature of her con- very look, as he stood a mute, but not an inattentive ference with him on her loss, and mentioned his promise spectator of the scene, would have implied that he was to see her righted. A conclusion was soon drawn. labouring under the weight of some hidden guilt; yet The brave young man, impelled by his generous spirit, so entirely had people's suspicions been excited by the had, it was determined, sought the haunt of the gipsies, gipsies, and so deeply were they impressed with the idea and there fell a victim to their cold and cruel trea- that they were the guilty persons, that suspicion had chery.
never once pointed at Walter Savage. Dorkins was a general favourite, and his companions As yet we have made no mention of Jane Barnes, the mustering together to the amouut of ten or twelve unhappy young woman who had exchanged her vows young men, with two of the forest keepers, and with the murdered Dorkins. She was present at the parish constable' at their head, resolved to explore the awful investigation ; and as the jury, after viewing the forest, and recover, if possible, the body of the young mangled remains, were about to retire to consider of man alive or dead. They sallied forth accordingly, their verdict, she shrieked aloud, in a voice that apand proceeded directly to the gipsies' haunt, which palled the heart of every bystauder, “ Justice! Justice they found completely deserted; although, from the Walter Savage has not touched the body!” All eyes hurried manner in which the removal appeared to have were immediately turned upon Savage, at whom the
half-crazed girl pointed as he stood in a corner of the a firm collected manner.
The counsel for the prosecuroom,
his arins folded on his breast, and his eyes cast tion having detailed the particulars of the murder, proupon the ground. Hearing himself thus singled out, he ceeded to show the grounds of suspicion against the suddenly raised his head, and advancing slowly towards prisoner at the bar. Witnesses were called to prove the her, by whom he was thus publicly impeached, while misunderstanding which had existed between the couhis pale lips quivered with agitation, and his limbs sins; and some hasty expressions of revenge, which seemed to totter beneath his weight, said, in a voice were said to have been uttered by Savage on the occascarcely audible, “ It is true, Jane, I have not touched sion of his defeat in the wrestling match, were also the body; but if it is right that I should, I am quite wil- given in evidence. A knife, stained with clotted blood, ling to do so now.” He accordingly advanced to the (the appearance of which excited a powerfnl sensation corse and passed his fingers across the forehead, while in the court,) was likewise brought forward. It had every one present pressed forward to witness the result. been discovered under the prisoner's bed after his appreIt was most singular. He had scarcely withdrawn his hension, and was thought to have been the weapon with hand, when the blood gushed from the dead man's tem- which he had accomplished the fatal deed. These were ple, at sight of which a general thrill of horror ran the principal points of evidence against the unfortunate through the room.
prisoner; and the prosecuting counsel admitted, that The confusion and consternation which followed may however strong and conclusive they might be, they be better imagined than described. Poor Jane, whose were still merely circumstantial. He adverted to the feelings had been wound up to intensity by the scene gipsies, and said it was true that circumstances of a before her, fell into strong hysterics, and in this state suspicious nature might be advanced against them. was obliged to be conveyed home. The coroner and The professed object which Dorkins had in view when jury were thunderstruck; and the rest of the spectators he entered the forest, on the evening of the murder, and were speechless with surprise and horror. Savage, the subsequent flight of the gang whose route had since though deadly pale, had recovered his self-possession, been traced, were points for the jury to consider, who and withstood firmly the many searching glances that would weigh them as opposed to the proofs advanced now turned upon
him. The strong suspicion against the prisoner. In alluding to the singular fact which had attached to the gipsies was soon directed to of the blood of the deceased having followed the touch another object; and powerful was the effect produced of the supposed murderer, he desired that the jury should by the blood of the murdered man, that the guilt of dismiss that occurrence entirely from their minds, as it Walter Savage was considered as clear as the noon-day. might be accounted for in a natural manner, and he left He was seized upon the spot, and conveyed before the them to shape their verdict according to the evidence jury. His character weighed heavily againt him, and produced, and the dictates of their own consciences. The his known enmity to the unfortunate deceased, was case for the prosecution having been closed, the prisoner thought to be a damning evidence of guilt. He was was called upon for his defence. He had no counsel to questioned as to where he was on the evening of the plead for him, and no friend to utter a kind word in bis murder. He hesitated, and at length named a public behalf. He stared vacantly around the court; but so house in the neighbourhood, where he said he had passed convinced were the spectators of his guilt, that amongst the entire afternoon of the day in question, and did not the many faces which his eye encounted on every side, return to his home till after ten at night. This state- he could not discover one in which hope or pity could ment, however, was distinctly and positively denied by be traced. He pressed his hands upon his forehead, the landlord of the inn he mentioned, who happened to closed his eyes, and dropped his head upon the bar. be one of the persons present at the investigation. Some Being again asked if he had any thing to urge in his other questions were then asked him, to each of which defence, he merely denied his guilt in general terms, he returned surly and evasive answers. The jury con
admitting that he had taken to bad habits, had been sulted, and notwithstanding their former impression a deer-stealer, and that the knife produced against him that the gipsies alone were guilty, Savage was forth with was that which he had used in the dissection of his committed to prison, charged by the coroner's warrant, plunder; concluding with a vehement denial of the with the wilful murder of Edward Dorkins !
crime with which he was charged, and his firm reliance The assizes came on the week following, and the day on the justice of the judge and jury; although having of trial having arrived, Savage was conveyed to Chelms- no friend in the world, he was quite careless as to what ford for the purpose of answering, at the bar of justice, should become of him. His address seemed to have no for the heavy crime with which he was charged. Hav- other effect upon the minds of the spectators, than to ing been renounced by his family, in consequence of his strengthen the conviction of his guilt. The judge reevil doings, he had no friend to stand beside him on this capitulated the evidence, dwelt at considerable length awful occasion, and not a living soul came to whisper on every criminating circumstance, and left the wretched hope and consolation in his ear. The court was crowded man nothing to hope for. His address to the jury conto excess by persons of every description, who were all cluded thus: “ There is one circumstance (said he) anxious to learn the result of a trial, occasioned by the which the learned counsel for the prosecution has told commission of a crime which had rarely been perpe- you to dismiss from your minds when you come to trated in that part of the country; and the mysterious decide this case ; 1 allude to the appearance of blood manner in which the accused had become implicated, when the body of the deceased was touched by the pri. gave an unusual interest to the scene.
soner. I am not given to superstition, gentlemen ; yet The preliminary business of the court having been I own that an occurrence so awful and supernatural disposed of, the jury were sworn, and the trial com- has made a considerable impression on my mind; and menced. Sarage, when called upon in the usual way coupled as it is with circunstantial evidence of the to plead to the indictment, answered, “Not guilty,” in strongest and most convincing nature, I cannot but con