Libavius, a very learned man, compiled all that had been said relative to this tooth, and subjoined his remarks upon it.
Nothing was wanting to recommend these erudite writings to posterity, but proof that the tooth was gold—a goldsmith examined it, and found it a natural tooth artificially gilt.
LE REVENANT.
“There are but two classes of persons in the world—those who are hanged, and those who are not hanged: and it has been my lot to belong to the former.”
There is a pathetic, narrative, under the preceding title and motto in “Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine,” of the present month, (April, 1827.) It is scarcely possible to abridge or extract from it, and be just to its writer. Perhaps the following specimen may induce curiosity to the perusal of the entire paper in the journal just named.
“I have been hanged, and am alive,” says the narrator. “I was a clerk in a Russia broker’s house, and fagged between Broad-street Buildings and Batson’s coffee-house, and the London-docks, from nine in the morning to six in the evening, for a salary of fifty pounds a-year. I did this—not contentedly—but I endured it; living sparingly in a little lodging at Islington for two years; till I fell in love with a poor, but very beautiful girl, who was honest where it was very hard to be honest; and worked twelve hours a-day at sewing and millinery, in a mercer’s shop in Cheapside, for half a guinea a-week. To make short of a long tale—this girl did not know how poor I was; and, in about six months, I committed seven or eight forgeries, to the amount of near two hundred pounds. I was seized one morning—I expected it for weeks—as regularly as I awoke—every morning—and carried, after a very few questions, for examination before the lord mayor. At the Mansion-house I had nothing to plead. Fortunately my motions had not been watched; and so no one but myself was implicated in the charge—as no one else was really guilty. A sort of instinct to try the last hope made me listen to the magistrate’s caution, and remain silent; or else, for any chance of escape I had, I might as well have confessed the whole truth at once. The examination lasted about half an hour; when I was fully committed for trial, and sent away to Newgate.
“The shock of my first arrest was very slight indeed; indeed I almost question if it was not a relief, rather than a shock, to me. For months, I had known perfectly that my eventual discovery was certain. I tried to shake the thought of this off; but it was of no use—I dreamed of it even in my sleep; and I never entered our counting-house of a morning, or saw my master take up the cash-book in the course of the day, that my heart was not up in my mouth, and my hand shook so that I could not hold the pen—for twenty minutes afterwards, I was sure to do nothing but blunder. Until, at last, when I saw our chief clerk walk into the room, on new year’s morning, with a police officer, I was as ready for what followed, as if I had had six hours’ conversation about it. I do not believe I showed—for I am sure I did not feel it—either surprise or alarm. My ‘fortune,’ however, as the officer called it, was soon told. I was apprehended on the 1st of January; and the sessions being then just begun, my time came rapidly round. On the 4th of the same month, the London grand jury found three bills against me for forgery; and, on the evening of the 5th, the judge exhorted me to ‘prepare for death;’ for ‘there was no hope that, in this world, mercy could be extended to me.’
“The whole business of my trial and sentence passed over as coolly and formally as I would have calculated a question of interest, or summed up an underwriting account. I had never, though I lived in London, witnessed the proceedings of a criminal court before; and I could hardly believe the composure and indifference—and yet civility—for there was no show of anger or ill-temper—with which I was treated; together with the apparent perfect insensibility of all the parties round me, while I was rolling on—with a speed which nothing could check, and which increased every moment—to my ruin! I was called suddenly up from the dock, when my turn for trial came, and placed at the bar; and the judge asked, in a tone which had neither severity about it, nor compassion—nor carelessness, nor anxiety—nor any character or expression whatever that could be distinguished—‘If there was any counsel appeared for the prosecution?’ A barrister then, who seemed to have some consideration—a middle aged, gentlemanly-looking man—stated the case against me—as he said he would do—very ‘fairly and forbearingly;’ but, as soon as he read the facts from his brief, ‘that only’—I heard an officer of the gaol, who stood behind me, say—‘put the rope about my neck.’ My master then was called to give his evidence; which he did very temperately—but it was conclusive. A young gentleman, who was my counsel, asked a few questions in cross-examination, after he had carefully looked over the indictment: but there was nothing to cross-examine upon—I knew that well enough—though I was thankful for the interest he seemed to take in my case. The judge then told me, I thought more gravely than he had spoken before—‘That it was time for me to speak in my defence, if I had any thing to say.’ I had nothing to say. I thought one moment to drop down upon my knees, and beg for mercy; but, again—I thought it would only make me look ridiculous; and I only answered—as well as I could—‘That I would not trouble the court with any defence.’ Upon this, the judge turned round, with a more serious air still, to the jury, who stood up all to listen to him as he spoke. And I listened too—or tried to listen attentively—as hard as I could; and yet—with all I could do—I could not keep my thoughts from wandering! For the sight of the court—all so orderly, and regular, and composed, and formal, and well satisfied—spectators and all—while I was running on with the speed of wheels upon smooth soil downhill, to destruction—seemed as if the whole trial were a dream, and not a thing in earnest! The barristers sat round the table, silent, but utterly unconcerned, and two were looking over their briefs, and another was reading a newspaper; and the spectators in the galleries looked on and listened as pleasantly, as though it were a matter not of death going on, but of pastime or amusement; and one very fat man, who seemed to be the clerk of the court, stopped his writing when the judge began, but leaned back in his chair, with his hands in his breeches’ pockets, except once or twice that he took a snuff; and not one living soul seemed to take notice—they did not seem to know the fact—that there was a poor, desperate, helpless creature—whose days were fast running out—whose hours of life were even with the last grains in the bottom of the sand-glass—among them! I lost the whole of the judge’s charge—thinking of I know not what—in a sort of dream—unable to steady my mind to any thing, and only biting the stalk of a piece of rosemary that lay by me. But I heard the low, distinct whisper of the foreman of the jury, as he brought in the verdict—‘Guilty,’—and the last words of the judge, saying—‘that I should be hanged by the neck until I was dead;’ and bidding me ‘prepare myself for the next life, for that my crime was one that admitted of no mercy in this.’ The gaoler then, who had stood close by me all the while, put his hand quickly upon my shoulder, in an under voice, telling me, to ‘Come along!’ Going down the hall steps, two other officers met me; and, placing me between them, without saying a word, hurried me across the yard in the direction back to the prison. As the door of the court closed behind us, I saw the judge fold up his papers, and the jury being sworn in the next case. Two other culprits were brought up out of the dock; and the crier called out for—‘The prosecutor and witnesses against James Hawkins, and Joseph Sanderson, for burglary!’