Preston Fight by W. Harrison Ainsworth

Just then, the door was opened, and Sir John Fryer, one of the sheriffs, came in, and, with a grave salutation, inquired if he was ready.

“Perfectly,” replied Lord Derwentwater.

Casting a farewell look at the good priest he then followed the sheriff, who marched before him with his men, through two lines of foot guards to the scaffold.

All was prepared.

The executioner was standing beside the block with the axe in his hand.

Not far from him were two assistants, and near them was the coffin.

A slight murmur arose from the vast concourse as the Earl of Derwentwater appeared on the scaffold, but it was a murmur of admiration-all being struck by his slight, graceful figure, seen to the greatest advantage in his black velvet attire.

“May I say a few words to the assemblage, Sir John?” asked the earl.

“Assuredly, my lord,” replied the sheriff.

The earl then advanced towards the rail of the scaffold, and as it was evident he was about to address them, the concourse became instantly silent, and every eye was fixed upon him.

In a clear voice, that was heard afar, and vibrated through the breasts of all near to him, he thus spoke:

“Being in a few minutes about to appear before the tribunal of Heaven, where, though most unworthy, I hope to find mercy which I have not found from men in power, I have endeavoured to make my peace by humbly begging pardon for all the sins of my life.

“I have never had any other sovereign save King James the Third, whom I have served from infancy; and if his religion had been different from mine, I should still have done all I could for him, as my ancestors did for his predecessors. I intended wrong to none, and only to serve my king and country, and if the sacrifice of my life could contribute to that end, I shall consider it well paid.

“I die a Roman Catholic, and in perfect charity with all the world, even with those most instrumental in my destruction, and I hope to be forgiven the trespasses of my youth by the Father of Infinite Mercy, into whose hands I commend my spirit.”

Delivered as we have described, this brief address produced a powerful effect upon the multitude, and however much they might differ from the earl, they could not help admiring his constancy.

As he retired, a loud wail arose from the female portion of the spectators.

“My lord,” observed Sir John Fryer, “I must beg you now to prepare yourself.”

“Grant me a few moments more,” said the earl.

And the request being accorded, he knelt down and prayed fervently.

Shortly afterwards, he arose, and stepped towards the executioner, one of whose men would have helped him to take off a portion of his attire, but he refused the assistance.

The executioner then besought his forgiveness.

“With all my heart,” replied the earl. “I forgive all my enemies-even the most malicious of them-and I forgive you.”

Seeing the man look hard at him, he added:

“Thou wilt find a purse in my pocket. ‘Tis thine with its contents.”

“I thank your lordship. Will you now try how the block fits you?”

Thereupon the earl made the essay.

Apparently satisfied, he turned to the executioner, and said:

“Is thine axe sharp?”

“So sharp that it will take off a head at a blow. I pray your lordship to feel the edge.”

“Nay, I shall feel it soon enough,” replied the earl with a slight shudder.

After a momentary pause, he added:

“I would die with the holiest name on my lips. When I have thrice pronounced it, strike!”

“My lord, I will not fail,” said the headsman.

Laying himself upon the block, the earl then ejaculated:

“Lord Jesu! receive my spirit! Lord Jesu! be merciful to me! Lord Jesu!-”

At this juncture the axe descended.

Next moment the head was held up to the concourse, while the executioner called out in trumpet tones:

“Behold the head of a traitor! God save King George!”

An irrepressible groan broke from the concourse.

The body was instantly placed in the coffin, and conveyed to a hearse, which was waiting for it at a short distance.