ardous participation in a
cause of peril. He had been married more than twenty years to Isabel,
daughter of Sir William Gordon, and had by her a numerous family. For
this nobleman, a powerful interest was afterwards successfully exerted.

These three noblemen were brought to London early in June. They were
shortly afterwards followed by about eight hundred companions in
misfortune. Of these, who arrived in the Thames on the twenty-first of
June, about two hundred were left at Tilbury Fort; while six hundred
were deposited in the various prisons of the metropolis. From henceforth
scenes of distress, and even of horror, were daily presented to the
prisoners. The Marquis of Tullibardine expired soon after his arrival at
the Tower; Lord Macleod, with happier fate, rejoined his father; Mr.
Murray of Broughton, who was treated with a distinction, at that time,
unexplicable, was also lodged in the same fortress. Those who were led
to expect the severest measures, might envy the calm departure of the
good old Marquis of Tullibardine; but all hearts bled when the gallant
Colonel Townley, a Roman Catholic gentleman of distinction, was dragged
on a sledge, along with other prisoners, to Kennington, his arms
pinioned; insulted by a brutal multitude, and there hanged. The horrid
barbarities of this sentence being fulfilled on his body, which was
still breathing, the hangman preparing to take out the heart and bowels,
struck it several times on the chest, before life (and perhaps
consciousness) was wholly extinct.

Day after day, the awful tragedies were repeated, exceeding any similar
displays of power since the days of the Tudors. Each of these _martyrs_,
as the voice of their own party pronounced them, in their last moments
declared, that "they died in a just cause--that they did not repent of
what they had done--that they doubted not their deaths would be
avenged." When, after nine executions had taken place in one morning,
the heart of the last sufferer was thrown into the fire, a savage shout
from the infuriated multitude followed the words "God save King George!"
The unfortunate man who had just perished was a young gentleman, named
Dawson, a graduate of St. John's College, Cambridge. He had for some
time been engaged to a young lady of good family, and great interest had
been made to procure his pardon. The lovers were sanguine in their
expectations, and the day of his release was to have been that of their
marriage.

When