The Sun.
London, England, 1839-09-02 00:00:00

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.

By far the most striking feature in this Number is
Cruikshank's illustration of one of the chapters of
" Jack Sheppard," where Jonathan Wild is repre-
sented throwing Sir Rowland Trenchard down the
well-hole. There is an earnestness and vigour in
this Plate that fiw, even among our most ambitious
artists, can evil—.none surpass. The wretched
man is clingin,, with convulsive agony to the ban-
nisters ; his body hangs suspended over the black
abyss : and his countenance, ghastly with pain and
horror, is upturned towards' his murderer, Wild,
who stands on the steps, striking him on the hands'
with a bludgeon, in order to make him let go his
hold. The features of the assassin are quite satanic
in their expression. His louring brows are knit
close together ; his eyes evince the most p de,c erate
determination of purpose ; and his white,
glittering
teeth—or rather tusks—are fast clenched, as if by
lock-jaw. Behind him, stands an abject Jew,
holding up a torch which throws a strange, lurid
light over the scene. The figure and features
of this crawling scoundrel show how attentively
the artist has studied human nature. His
low, swarthy forehead, with the greasy, black
hair hanging over it ; his shaggy eye-brows half
shading his small dark grey eyes, which twinkle
With cunnin and malice ; and his crouching, under-
sized figure, point out the man most likely to take
a secundary .!;are in such a deed of blood. The
sight of this Pilte is enough to make one's flesh
creep. Let no one look at it after a full supper,
for if he do, he will be booked for a night-mare, and
(helm of the D:vill The chapters of Jack Sheppard
are not s) good as some that we have read. Effort
is too painfully visible throughout them, and pro-
bability is sacrificed to effect. Ainsworth does not
produce his tiftcts, like Boz, by a few easy, care-
I less, inimitab'e touches 1 ; but by a most methodical
and elaborate system of colouring. Yet it is
greatly to his credit that he has handled a difficult,
. ,
'•
''
.' ' ' :•-• . , Z..-i',.: n. cy'tli a ‘,,1.:i1l and attcn-
j ~, ~,
\ ,:e.ja : .- ' .',- '-::, ::.ii.t 'take a strop,` hold co the
er s attention. His sketch of Old Newgate is

worthy to, vie with Scott's picturesque description
of. one Tolbeoth in the " Heart of Mid-Lothian."
We extracttlie account of Sir Rowland Trenchard's
murder by Jonathan \V ild:—
As the signal was given, the Jew, who had been some
time in expectation of it, darted swiftly and silently be-
hind Sir Rowland, and flung a cloth over his head, while
Jonathan rushing upon him in front, struck him several
quick and violent blows in the face with the bludgeon.
The white cloth was instantly dyed with crimson ; but,
regardless of this, Jonathan continued his murderous
assault. The struggles of the wounded man were des-
perate—so desperate, that in his agony he overiet the
table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and dis-
closed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with
blood. So appalling was the sight, that even the mur-
derers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,
—looked aghast at it.
During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for
his sword. It had been removed from the scabbard by
the Jew. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing,
" Despatch him !" roared Jonathan.
Having no means of defence, Sir Rowland cleared the
blood from his vision ; and, turning to see whether there
was any means of escape, he descried the open door be-
hind him leading to the Well Hole, and instantly darted
through it.
" As I could wish ' cried Jonathon,
light, Nab "

" Bring the

The Jew snatched up the 'lnk, and followed him.
A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued. The
wounded man had descended the bridge, and dashed
himself against the door beyond it ; but, finding it im-
possible to force his way further, he turned to confront
his assailants. Jonathan aimed a blow at him, which, if
it had taken place, must have instantly terminated the
strife ; but, avoiding this, he sprang at the thieftaker,
and grappled with him. Firmly built, as it was, the
bridge creaked in such a manner with their contending
efforts, that Abraham durst not venture beyond the
door, ',here he stood, holding the light, a horrified spec-
tator of the scene, The contest, however, though des-
perate, was brici. Disengaging his right arm, Jonathan
struck his victim a tremendous blow on the head with
the bludge'an that fractured his skull ; and, exerting all
his strer,gth, threw him over the rails, to which he clung
with 'the tenacity of despair.

'•' Spare me !" he groaned, looking upwards. " Spare
hie!"

Jonathan, however, instead of answering him, searched
for his knife, with the intention of severing his wrist ;
but not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon,
and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until,
by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its
hold. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower
banister, until that also relaxed its gripe.

Sir Rowland then fell.
A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls,
marked his descant into the water.

" Give me the link," cried Jonathan.
Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded
man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber
up the slippery sides of the well.

" Shoot him ! shoot him ! Put him out of Kish' mi-
shery," cried the Jew.

"What's the use of wasting a shot r rejoined Jona-
than, savagely. "Ha can't get out."
After making several ineffectual attempts to keep him-
self above water, Sir Rowland sunk, and his groans,
which had become gradually fainter and fainter, were
heard no more.
" All's over," muttered Jonathan.

" Legends of the Isle of Wight," are an inter-
esting series of narratives well put together. In
" Uncle Sam's Peculiarities" we have a droll ac-
count of a negro parson's sermon at an African
church at New Yoik; and some highly character-
istic dialogues between a party of whites and
blacks on the deck of a Hudson river steam-boat.
When we think of the degraded state of the poor
negroes in America, we feel nothing but the most
sovereign contempt for Jonathan's canting outcry
about liberty. Liberty, forsooth ! As if a callous
slave-master, holding a bloody scourge in one
hand, and a set of chains in the other—nay,
more, advertising for a full-grown negro, as an
Englishman would advertise for a cow or a horse—
could possibly know the meaning of the word ! In
one of his earlier epistles from America, Moore
has lashed Jonathan for this flagrant inconsistency,
in the most caustic spirit of sarcasm. " The
Enchanted Island," is by Washington Irving. It
is not in his liveliest manner, but is somewhat dull
and drowsy, as if penned in the cave of Morpheus
with a goose-quill steeped in laudanum, in lieu of
ink, " Character and Conduct of Louis the
Sixteenth," furnishes us with a curious Diary of
this monarch, which shows him to be a mere slug-
gish, unintellectual creature, absorbed in solemn
frivolities at the very moment when his kingdom
was tumbling to pieces about him with the stunning
sound of a thunder-clap. Imagine a king coolly
recording in his daily journal his stag-hunts and
shooting matches, when the fiat had gone forth
which proclaimed France a republic I " Von Dull-
brainz" is an amusing article with a useful moral
attached to it. " National Songs" is an energetic,
martial lyric, from the pen of IVlrs. Gore who,
like Goldsmith, turns all that she touches to gold.