CHAPTER XV.
SAINT PAUL'S CHURCHYARD.
Guy Fawkes was for some time wholly inconsolable. His stoical natureseemed completely subdued, and he wept like an infant. By degrees,however, the violence of his grief abated, and calling to mind the lastinjunctions of her whose loss he mourned, he addressed himself toprayer, and acknowledging his guilt, besought her intercession withHeaven for his forgiveness.
It will not seem strange, when his superstitious character is taken intoconsideration, that he should fancy he received an immediate proof thathis prayers were heard. To his excited imagination it appeared that asoft unearthly strain of music floated in the air over his head; that anodour like that of Paradise filled his cell; while an invisible fingertouched his brow. While in this entranced state, he was utterlyinsensible to his present miserable situation, and he seemed to have aforetaste of celestial happiness. He did not, however, desist fromprayer, but continued his supplications throughout the day.
On that night, he was visited by the lieutenant, who announced to himthat the execution of four of the conspirators was fixed for Thursday(it was then Tuesday), while his own and that of the three others wouldnot take place till the following day.
"As you are the greatest traitor of all, your execution will be reservedto the last," pursued Waad. "No part of the sentence will be omitted.You will be dragged to Old Palace Yard, over against the scene of yourintended bloody and damnable action, at a horse's tail, and will bethere turned off the gallows, and hanged, _but not till you are dead_.You will then be embowelled; your vile heart, which conceived thisatrocious design, will be torn beating from your breast; and yourquarters will be placed on the palace gates as an abhorrent spectacle inthe eyes of men, and a terrible proof of the King's just vengeance."
Guy Fawkes heard the recapitulation of his dreadful sentence unmoved.
"The sole mercy I would have craved of his Majesty would have beenpermission to die first!" he said. "But Heaven's will be done! I deservemy doom."
"What! is your stubborn nature at length subdued?" cried the lieutenantin surprise. "Do you repent of your offence?"
"Deeply and heartily," returned Fawkes.
"Make the sole amends in your power for it, then, and disclose the namesof all who have been connected with the atrocious design," rejoinedWaad.
"I confess myself guilty," replied Fawkes, humbly. "But I accuse noothers."
"Then you die impenitent," rejoined the lieutenant, "and cannot hope formercy hereafter."
Guy Fawkes made no answer, but bowed his head upon his breast, and thelieutenant, darting a malignant look at him, quitted the cell.
On the following day, the whole of the conspirators were taken to St.John's chapel, in the White Tower, where a discourse was pronounced tothem by Doctor Overall, Dean of St. Paul's, who enlarged upon theenormity of their offence, and exhorted them to repentance. Thediscourse over, they were about to be removed, when two ladies, clad inmourning habits, entered the chapel. These were Lady Digby and Mrs.Rookwood, and they immediately flew to their husbands. The rest of theconspirators walked away, and averted their gaze from the painful scene.After an ineffectual attempt to speak, Lady Digby swooned away, and wascommitted by her husband, while in a state of insensibility, to the careof an attendant. Mrs. Rookwood, however, who was a woman of high spirit,and great personal attractions, though the latter were now wasted byaffliction, maintained her composure, and encouraging her husband tobear up manfully against his situation, tenderly embraced him, andwithdrew. The conspirators were then taken back to their cells.
At an early hour on the following morning the four miserable personsintended for death, namely, Sir Everard Digby, the elder Winter, JohnGrant, and Bates, were conducted to the Beauchamp Tower. Bates wouldhave stood aloof from his superiors; but Sir Everard Digby took himkindly by the hand, and drew him towards them.
"No distinctions must be observed now," he said. "We ought to beg pardonof thee, my poor fellow, for bringing thee into this strait."
"Think not of me, worshipful sir," replied Bates. "I loved Mr. Catesbyso well, that I would have laid down my life for him at any time; and Inow die cheerfully in his cause."
"Mr. Lieutenant," said Robert Winter to Sir William Waad, who stood nearthem with Forsett and Ipgreve, "I pray you commend me to my brother.Tell him I die in entire love of him, and if it is possible for thedeparted to watch over the living, I will be with him at his last hour."
At this moment, a trampling of horses was heard on the green, and thelieutenant proceeding to the grated window, saw four mounted troopers,each having a sledge and hurdle attached by ropes to his steed, drawn upbefore the door. While he was gazing at them, an officer entered theroom, and informed him that all was in readiness. Sir William Waad thenmotioned the prisoners to follow him, and they descended the spiralstaircase.
The green was thronged with horse and foot soldiers, and as theconspirators issued from the arched door of the fortification, the bellof Saint Peter's chapel began to toll. Sir Everard Digby was first boundto a hurdle, with his face towards the horse, and the others werequickly secured in the same manner. The melancholy cavalcade was thenput in motion. A troop of horse-soldiers in their full accoutrements,and with calivers upon their shoulders, rode first; then came a band ofhalberdiers on foot; then the masked executioner mounted on a led horse,then the four prisoners on the hurdles, one after the other; then thelieutenant on horseback; while another band of horse-soldiers, equippedlike the first, brought up the rear. They were met by the Recorder ofLondon, Sir Henry Montague, and the sheriffs, at the gate of the MiddleTower, to the latter of whom the lieutenant, according to custom,delivered up the bodies of the prisoners. After a short delay, the trainagain set forward, and emerging from the Bulwark Gate, proceeded throughan enormous concourse of spectators towards Tower-street.
Aware that a vast crowd would be assembled in the city, and apprehensiveof some popular tumult, the Lord Mayor had issued precepts to thealdermen of every ward, commanding them "to cause one able andsufficient person, with a halbert in his hand, to stand at the door ofevery dwelling-house in the open street in the way that the traitorswere to be drawn towards the place of execution, there to remain fromseven in the morning until the return of the sheriffs." But these werenot the whole of the arrangements made to preserve order. The cavalcade,it was fixed, was to proceed along Tower-street, Gracechurch street,Lombard-street, Cheapside, and so on to the west end of Saint Paul'scathedral, where the scaffold was erected. Along the whole road, oneither side, a line of halberdiers was drawn up, while barriers wereerected against the cross streets. Nor were these precautions needless.Such a vast concourse was collected, that nothing but the presence of astrong armed force could have prevented confusion and disorder. Theroofs of all the houses, the towers of the churches, the steps of thecrosses were covered with spectators, who groaned and hooted as theconspirators passed by.
The scaffold, as has just been stated, was erected in front of the greatwestern entrance of the cathedral. The mighty valves of the sacredstructure were thrown open, and disclosed its columned aisles crowdedwith spectators, as was its roof and central tower. The great bell,which had begun to toll when the melancholy procession came in sight,continued to pour forth its lugubrious sounds during the whole of theceremonial. The rolling of muffled drums was likewise heard above thetumultuous murmurs of the impatient multitude. The whole area from thecathedral to Ludgate-hill was filled with spectators, but an open spacewas kept clear in front of the scaffold, in which the prisoners were oneby one unbound from the hurdles.
During this awful pause, they had sufficient time to note the whole ofthe dreadful preparations. At a little distance from them was a largefire, on which boiled a caldron of pitch, destined to receive theirdismembered limbs. A tall gallows, approached by a double ladder, sprungfrom the scaffold, on which the hangman was already mounted with therope in his hand. At the foot of the ladder was the quartering-block,near which stood the masked executioner with a c
hopper in his hand, andtwo large sharp knives in his girdle. His arms were bared to theshoulder; and a leathern apron, soiled by gory stains, and tied roundhis waist, completed his butcherly appearance. Straw was scattered uponthe scaffold near the block.
Sir Everard Digby was the first to receive the fatal summons. He mountedwith a firm footstep, and his youth, his noble aspect, and undaunteddemeanour, awakened, as before, the sympathy of the beholders. Lookinground, he thus addressed the assemblage:--
"Good people, I am here about to die, ye well know for what cause.Throughout the matter, I have acted according to the dictates of myconscience. They have led me to undertake this enterprise, which, inrespect of my religion, I hold to be no offence, but in respect of thelaw a heinous offence, and I therefore ask forgiveness of God, of theKing, and of the whole realm."
Crossing himself devoutly, he then knelt down, and recited his prayersin Latin, after which he arose, and again looking round, said in anearnest voice,
"I desire the prayers of all good Catholics, and of none other."
"Then none will pray for you," replied several voices from the crowd.
Heedless of the retort, Sir Everard surrendered himself to theexecutioner's assistant, who divested him of his cloak and doublet, andunfastened his collar. In this state, he mounted the ladder, and thehangman fulfilled his office.
Robert Winter was next summoned, and ascended the scaffold with greatfirmness. Everything proclaimed the terrible tragedy that had just beenenacted. The straw was sprinkled with blood, so was the block, so werethe long knives of the executioner, whose hands and arms were dyed withthe same crimson stain; while in one corner of the scaffold stood abasket, containing the dismembered limbs of the late unfortunatesufferer. But these dreadful sights produced no effect on Robert Winter.Declining to address the assemblage, he at once surrendered himself tothe assistant, and shared the fate of his friend.
Grant was the next to follow. Undismayed as his predecessor, he lookedround with a cheerful countenance, and said,--
"I am about to suffer the death of a traitor, and am content to die so.But I am satisfied that our project was so far from being sinful, that Irely entirely on my merits in bearing a part in it, as an abundantsatisfaction and expiation for all the sins I have at other times of mylife committed."
This speech was received by a terrific yell from the multitude. Whollyunmoved, however, Grant uttered a few prayers, and then crossinghimself, mounted the ladder and was quickly despatched. The bloodybusiness was completed by the slaughter of Bates, who died as resolutelyas the others.
These executions, being conducted with the utmost deliberation, occupiednearly an hour. The crowd then separated to talk over the sight they hadwitnessed, and to keep holiday during the remainder of the day;rejoicing that an equally-exciting spectacle was in store for them onthe morrow.