The Prime Minister
three assistants, mounted the fatal platform toreceive the wretched occupant.
When the party arrived at the foot of the flight of steps, every voicewas hushed, and every eye was strained to see the first victim. Thedoor of the sedan-chair was opened, and a female form was led forward."The Marchioness of Tavora!" ejaculated the crowd.
It was, indeed, that unhappy lady. Firm and composed, she advanced tothe first step of the scaffold, where, kneeling down between her ghostlycomforters, she performed the last duties of religion, employing thusupwards of half an hour, during which time some further arrangements onthe dreadful theatre were being made. At the end of that time, theexecutioners gave a signal that all was in readiness for the first sceneof the tragedy, and, rising from her knees, she mounted, withoutfaltering, the fatal steps, appearing in the same robes of dark bluesatin, her hair dressed with white ribands, and a circlet of diamonds,as when she had been apprehended. On the summit, the friars deliveredher into the hands of the executioners, who first led her round to eachside of the platform, to show her to the people, and then, with arefinement of cruelty worthy of the brain of an Eastern barbarian toconceive, they, according to their orders, exhibited to her the knife bywhich she was herself to suffer, at which she merely smiled. But whenshe beheld the rack, the crosses, the mallets, and other instruments oftorture prepared for her husband, children, and the other partners ofher fate, while the chief executioner explained their object, theintrepid spirit which had hitherto sustained her in that hour of bitteranguish, at length gave way in a gush of tears.
"As you hope for Heaven's mercy, oh! hasten with your work," sheexclaimed.
Even the executioner was moved. "I perform but my orders, lady, andpray your forgiveness," he answered, as he hurriedly performed thehell-invented task, and led her to the chair in the centre of theplatform.
Throwing off his cloak, he appeared in a close-fitting black vest. Ashe stooped down to fasten her feet, he raised her clothes slightly.
"Remember who I am, and respect me even in death!" she exclaimed,proudly; but the moment after, seeing the man had done sounintentionally, as he released her hand, she took the circlet ofdiamonds from her head, and presenting them to him, "Take this as atoken of my forgiveness," she said, clearly. "Now Heaven receive mysoul, and forgive my murderers!" These were her last words. Theexecutioner, now securing her arms to the chair, took the handkerchieffrom her neck, and bound her eyes, the friars repeating the prayers of aparting sinner; he then, seizing a large knife, shaped like an easternscimitar, took her long hair in his left hand, and lifting high theblade, gave one stroke on the back of the neck, for the sake of greaterignominy, the head falling on the bosom, a second being required tosever it from the body. The butchery being finished, he exhibited thehead to the people, while his assistants untied the body, both beingthrown on one side, and covered with a black cloth, from beneath whichthe blood flowed, trickling down the outside stage.
Thus died Donna Leonora de Tavora, once Vice-Queen of India, one of themost lovely, high-spirited, and most noble ladies of Portugal; thefavourite of the former Queen, and the most admired dame of the Court!Either her own fatal ambition, or the envy and revenge of another, wasthe cause of her untimely end, which, no one can now determine.
During this time, the day still remained obscure, some thought, as asignal of Heaven's disapprobation at the bloody scene which wasenacting. Alas! if the sun shone but when the land was free from crime,when should we enjoy a clear day? It was at last discovered that aneclipse was taking place.
This execution being concluded at half-past eight, the ministers ofjustice still remaining in their places, the sedan-chair, escorted bythe dragoons, proceeded to the Quinta; from whence it again returned, afriar, as before, walking on each side. From it was led forth,trembling with agitation, the young Joze de Tavora, dressed in a suit ofblack; and supported by the friars, he mounted the scaffold. As he wasled round to be exhibited to the people, wearing his long, light hair incurls, his youth, his graceful figure, and the sweet engaging expressionof his countenance, gained him universal commiseration. He regained hiscourage, and spoke a few inaudible words; then petitioning pardon forhis own sins, and for those of his enemies, he resigned himself into thehands of the executioners. His eyes being bound, he was fastened by thewrists and ankles to a cross, brought forward to the centre, andelevated nearly upright, the whole weight of the body hanging by thearms, increasing the agony of the sufferer, while the chief executionerpassed the cord, to strangle him, round his neck, and the assistantswith their iron clubs broke the eight bones of his arms and legs. Hisshrieks resounded through the assembly, drawing tears of pity from theeyes, and cries of sympathy from the breasts of many, even of the mosthardened. The mangled corpse, being exhibited to the people, was placedon one of the wheels, and covered with a black cloth.
Poor Pedro watched this execution with the most dreadful anxiety; for inthe young Don Joze he had recognised the companion of his master duringthe excursion on the fatal night of the attempt against the King's life.He turned his straining eye-balls towards the gate of the Quinta, asthe third sad _cortege_ issued forth in the same manner as the firsttowards the scaffold; but instead of the Count the young Marquis ofTavora appeared.
With an impatient step he mounted the stage, dressed in full courtcostume though bare-headed; and, walking round, he attempted, in a loudvoice, to address the populace with a declaration of his innocence.
"Hear me, Portuguese!" he cried. "My kindred and I have been sacrificedto the lust of a weak King, and the ambition and hatred of a tyrantMinister; but our blood will not cry in vain for vengeance; and forcenturies, war, disorder, and wretchedness are in store for our haplesscountry. A dying man speaks."
"Silence, base traitor!" thundered forth the chief criminal magistrate."Commend your soul to God, or you shall be stopped by a gag!" at thesame time giving the signal to the executioner.
To spare him the agony his brother had suffered, he was seated on achair, made fast to the cross, with his hands fastened above him, andbeing then strangled, and his legs and arms broken, the body was shownto the people, and placed on another wheel, likewise covered with ablack cloth.
"Ah! my poor master will be the next," cried Pedro. "I will die withhim; for I shall never be able to rescue him from their clutches, thebarbarians!"
The next sufferer who appeared from the sedan-chair was the Count ofAtouquia. He mounted the steps with a furious and indignant air, andwhen he attempted to speak, he was compelled to hold silence. He wasexecuted with the same ceremonies as his brother-in-law.
Manoel Ferreira, the Duke's servant, Captain Braz Romeiro, of theMarquis of Tavora's late regiment, and Joao Miguel, the Duke's page,then followed in the order named, dressed in ragged and scanty garments,and were executed like the previous victims.
Carpenters were now employed to make several alterations in thescaffold, and two large crosses, without a centre-post, were brought tothe front.
The body of Donna Leonora, with the head, were placed on a bench in thecentre, so as to meet the view of her husband, who was destined to bethe next victim.
As the unhappy Marquis appeared, the muffled drums of the military bandsgave forth irregular sounds, the troops whom he had once commanded withdistinction and honour, and through whose lines he was now led, turningtheir left shoulders as he passed. He mounted the steps with a quickand firm pace; but started with horror, a death-like palloroverspreading his countenance, as he beheld the mangled, body of hiswife, whom he had last seen in all her pride and beauty before theirapprehension. The lacerated bodies of his sons and servants were thenexhibited to him, as well as the instruments of torture with which hewas to suffer death. He was next led round to be shown to the populace,whom he did not attempt to address, and returning, as soon as he waspermitted, he knelt down by the side of the cross. He then humblyconfessed himself to his ghostly attendants, and, when they retired,boldly extended himself upon the cross laid flat on the ground, to wh
ichhe was then bound; the executioner next lifting a vast iron mallet, witha long handle, struck him three blows on the chest, the stomach, and theface, besides breaking his arms and legs,--his sobs and pitiable groansof agony being heard for some minutes ere he expired.
It was past two o'clock when the Duke of Aveiro mounted the scaffold,dressed in the morning-gown in which he had been taken, bare-headed, andholding a crucifix in his manacled hand. The anticipation of anagonising death had somewhat humbled his once presumptuous pride,though, perhaps, even at that moment, indignation at the ignominy withwhich he was treated was his predominant feeling, as he gazed aroundwith looks of rage and despair. He underwent precisely the sameceremony as the Marquis; but the executioner, through nervousness,struck the first blow on his stomach, causing him the most excruciatingtortures, as was known by his heart-piercing shrieks, and it was