May came forward with a more firm step than either of his fellow-prisoners; but his look was that of a man who thought that all chance of life was lost. He seemed desponding; but there appeared that in his despondency which gave an air of—we could not call it daring, or even confidence,—we should rather say, a physical power of endurance, which imparted to his whole manner a more firm bearing than that of the other prisoners. He was very pale, but his eye had not relaxed from that firmness which was observable in his glance throughout the whole of the trial.
Ordinary physiognomists who, without having seen the prisoners, had read the accounts of their examinations at the police-office,—of their habits and mode of living, and the horrible atrocities with which, there is now no doubt, they were familiar,—would have been greatly disappointed in the appearance of all of them as they stood at the bar. There was nothing in the aspect or manner of any of them which betokened a predisposition to anything like the outrage on humanity of which they stood convicted. Thurtell looked, as well as acted, the 'bold-faced villain.' Ings, and one or two others of the companions of Thistlewood, wore in their countenances, almost as strongly as they showed in their deeds, the bold daring of the reckless desperado; but nothing of this kind could be traced in the face of any of the three who were then at the bar. There was something of heaviness in the aspect of Bishop, but altogether his countenance was mild. Williams had that kind of aspect with which men associate the idea of sharpness and cunning, and something of mischief, but nothing of the villain. May, who was the best-looking of the three, had a countenance which most persons would consider open and manly. There was an air of firmness and determination about him; but neither in him nor his companions was there the slightest physiognomical trait of a murderer, according to the common notions on the subject. They were all those kind of vulgar men in appearance of which one sees hundreds every day, without being struck with any indication in them of good or evil disposition.
When the three prisoners were placed at the bar, the names of the jury were called over; and on being asked whether they had agreed to their verdict, they answered that they had.
The question was then put to them, as to each of the prisoners, and they returned as their verdict, that John Bishop, Thomas Williams, alias Head, and James May, were severally Guilty of murder.
The verdict was received in court with becoming silence; but in a moment it was conveyed to the immense multitude assembled outside, who evinced their satisfaction at the result by loud and continued cheering and clapping of hands. To such an extent was this expression of the popular feeling carried, that the windows of the court were obliged to be closed, in order that the voice of the Recorder might be heard in passing sentence.
The prisoners were then severally called upon to say why sentence of death and execution should not be pronounced upon them; but none of them availed themselves of this opportunity of saying anything.
The Recorder then proceeded to pass the awful sentence of death upon them, but was for some moments again interrupted by the renewed shouts of the populace from without. Silence having been restored, the learned Judge proceeded. He began by eulogizing the patient and diligent attention bestowed on their case by the jury, whose verdict was just recorded; and of that jury he might state, what he often had occasion to remark of juries in that box, that nothing but the most satisfactory evidence, and a conviction of the solemn obligation they owed to their Maker and to their country, could induce them to pronounce a verdict which was to consign some of their fellow-men to a disgraceful death. He fully concurred in the verdict they had pronounced, which was supported by the most conclusive evidence.
The prisoner Bishop.—By false evidence, my Lord.
The learned Recorder went on, and addressing himself to the prisoners, observed, that he would not encroach, by any lengthened remarks, on the very short time that was to intervene between their sentence and their appearance in the presence of their Creator. A month had now elapsed since their first committal for this crime, and he hoped that that time had been employed by them in looking back on their past lives,—on the horrible agony which they had inflicted on the feelings of so many of their fellow-men,—and on the dreadful outrage on human nature of which they were now convicted. But, however they might have spent the time past, he earnestly adjured them, by their hopes of mercy, to lose not an instant of the few hours which yet remained to them, in constant prayers to Almighty God for pardon through the merits of their Redeemer. After pointing out to them the spiritual assistance which would be afforded to them in prison, the learned Judge concluded by passing upon each of them the sentence of the law, which was, that each of them be hanged on the following Monday morning, and their bodies be delivered over for dissection and anatomization.
The prisoners heard their sentence, as they had heard the verdict, without any visible alteration in their manner. They stood at the bar, as if expecting that something more would be added. When ordered to be removed, May raised his voice, and, in a firm tone, said, 'I am a murdered man, gentlemen, and that man (pointing to Bishop) knows it.'