CHAPTER III. 1685. of his execution At ten o'clock on the 15th, Monmouth proceeded in a carriage of the Lieutenant of the Tower, to Tower Hill, the place destined for his execution. The two bishops Circumstances were in the carriage with him, and one of them took that opportunity of informing him, that their controversical altercations were not yet at an end; and that upon the scaffold, he would again be pressed for more explicit and satisfactory declarations of repentance. When arrived at the bar, which had been put up for the purpose of keeping out the multitude, Monmouth descended from the carriage, and mounted the scaffold, with a firm step, attended by his spiritual assistants. The sheriffs and executioners were already there. The concourse of spectators was innumerable, and if we are to credit traditional accounts, never was the general compassion more affectingly expressed. The tears, sighs, and groans, which the first sight of this heart-rending spectacle produced, were soon succeeded by an universal and awful silence; a respectful attention, and affectionate anxiety, to hear every syllable that should pass the lips of the sufferer. The Duke began by saying he should speak little; he came to die, and he should die a Protestant of the church of England. Here he was inter- Persecuted by rupted by the assistants, and told, that, if he was assistants. of the church of England, he must acknowledge the doctrine of Non-resistance to be true. In vain did he reply that if he acknowledged the doctrine of the church in general, it included all they insisted he M m his religious III. 1685. CHAPTER should own that doctrine particularly with respect to his case, and urged much more concerning their favourite point, upon which, however, they obtained nothing but a repetition in substance of former answers. He was then proceeding to speak of Lady Harriet Wentworth, of his high esteem for her, and of his confirmed opinion that their connection was innocent in the sight of God; when Goslin, the sheriff, asked him, with all the unfeeling bluntness of a vulgar mind, whether he was ever married to her. The Duke refusing to answer, the same magistrate, in the like strain, though changing his subject, said he hoped to have heard of his repentance for the treason and bloodshed which had been committed; to which the prisoner replied with great mildness, that he died very penitent. Here the churchmen again interposed, and renewing their demand of particular penitence and public acknowledgment upon publick affairs, Monmouth referred them to the following paper which he had signed that morning: 66 "I declare, that the title of King was forced upon "me; and, that it was very much contrary to my opinion, when I was proclaimed. For the satisfac"tion of the world, I do declare, that the late King "told me, he was never married to my mother. Having declared this, I hope the King, who is now, "will not let my children suffer on this account. And "to this I put my hand this fifteenth day of July, CHAPTER III. "1685. MONMOUTH." paper about re There was nothing, they said, in that sistance; nor, though Monmouth, quite worn out with their importunities, said to one of them, in a most affecting manner, "I am to die,-Pray my Lord,—“ I refer to my paper," would these men think it consistent with their duty to desist. They were only a few words they desired on one point. The substance of these applications on one hand, and answers on the other, was repeated, over and over again, in a manner that could not be believed, if the facts were not attested by the signature of the persons principally concerned.* If the Duke, in declaring his sorrow for what had passed, used the word invasion, "give it the true name," said they, “and call it rebellion." "What name you please," replied the mild-tempered Monmouth. He was sure he was going to everlasting happiness, and considered the serenity of his mind in his present circumstances, as a certain earnest of the favour of his Creator. His repentance, he said, must be true for he had no fear of dying, he should die like a lamb. "Much may come from natural courage," was the unfeeling and stupid reply Vide Somers's Tracts, I. 435. 1685. CHAPTER 1685. of one of the assistants. Monmouth, with that modesty inseparable from true bravery, denied that he was in general less fearful than other men, maintaining that his present courage was owing to his consciousness that God had forgiven him his past transgressions, of all which generally he repented with all his soul 66 At last the reverend assistants consented to join with him in prayer, but no sooner were they risen from their kneeling posture, than they returned to their charge. Not satisfied with what had passed, they exhorted him, to a true and thorough repentance; would he not pray for the King? and send a dutiful message to his Majesty, to recommend the Dutchess and his children? As you please;" was the reply," I pray for him and for all men." He now spoke to the executioner, desiring that he might have no cap over his eyes, and began undressing. One would have thought that in this last sad ceremony, the poor prisoner might have been unmolested, and that the divines would have been satisfied, that prayer was the only part of their function for which their duty now called upon them. They judged differently, and one of them had the fortitude to request the Duke, even in this stage of the business, that he would address himself to the soldiers then present, to tell them he stood a sad example of rebellion, and entreat the people to be loyal and obedient to the King, "I have said I will "make no speeches," repeated Monmouth, in a tone more peremptory than he had before been provoked to; "I will make no speeches. I come to die." "My "Lord, ten words will be enough," said the persevering divine, to which the Duke made no answer, but turning to the executioner, expressed a hope that he would do his work better now than in the case of Lord Russel. He then felt the axe, which he apprehended was not sharp enough, but being assured that it was of proper sharpness and weight, he laid down his head. In the meantime, many fervent ejaculations were used by the reverend assistants, who, it must be observed, even in these moments of horrour, showed themselves not unmindful of the points upon which they had been disputing; praying God to accept his imperfect and general repentance. The executioner now struck the blow, but so feebly or unskilfully, that Monmouth being but slightly wounded, lifted up his head, and looked him in the face as if to upbraid him, but said nothing. The two following strokes were as ineffectual as the first, and the headsman in a fit of horrour, declared he could not finish his work. The sheriffs threatened him; he was forced again to make a further trial, and in two more strokes separated the head from the body. CHAPTER III. 1685. Character of Thus fell, in the thirty-sixth year of his age, James, Monmouth. |