ung headsman claimed his office on the latter ground; to
the surprise of all, his mother, the wife of the old headsman, not merely
supported him in his claim, but persisted, with a spirit that might have
become a Roman matron but certainly no one else, that if her son were
incapable, she herself was responsible for the performance of her
husband's duty, and would execute it. The Senate was in consternation,
for this assertion of hereditary right was unanswerable; and while they
courteously declined the offer of the chivalrous mother, they felt
constrained to accept the services of her son.

The fatal morning came; the scaffold stood erected; and pressing closely
around the wooden barriers, stood the anxious crowd awaiting the
execution. The culprit knelt with head erect, his neck and shoulders
bared for the stroke, while the young headsman stood by his side armed
with the double-handed sword, the weapon of his office. At a sign given,
he swung the tremendous blade in the air, and aimed a fearful blow at the
neck of the condemned; but his skilless hand sloped the broad blade as it
fell, and it struck deeply into the victim's breast. Amid a cry of
terror he raised his sword again; again it whirled through the air, and
again it failed to do its deadly work. The miserable wretch still lived;
and a third stroke was necessary to complete the task so dreadfully
began. Who can wonder that that fearful weapon had for years long rested
from its service?

Influenced by this terrible scene, and, let us hope, as well by motives
of humanity as by the conviction of the utter uselessness of such a
spectacle as a moral lesson, the Senate of Hamburg had commuted the
punishment of death into that of a life imprisonment. Yet now they were
taunted with their unreadiness to shed blood, and dared to carry the law,
as it still stood upon the statute-book, into effect. For a while it
seemed that anger would govern the acts of the Senate, for every
preparation was made for the execution. The headsman, whose blundering
essay has been above related, was still living, but he had long filled
the humble office of a messenger, and made no claim to repeat his effort.
Among the many competitors who offered their services, a Dane was finally
selected, and the inhabitants of Hamburg, excited to the utmost degree by
the anticipation of the forthcoming spectacle, awaited the event with a
morbid and gloating curiosity. They were, however, disappoin