iscount Stafford--youngest
son of the Earl of Arran, and nephew of the Duke of Norfolk--was
selected to be first put upon his trial; inasmuch as, being over sixty
years, and a sufferer from many infirmities, it was judged he would be
the least capable of making a vigorous defence. Three perjured
witnesses swore he had plotted against the king's life, but no proof
was forthcoming to support their evidence. Notwithstanding this was
"bespattered and falsified in almost every point," it was received as
authentic by the judges, who made a national cause of his prosecution,
and considered no punishment too severe for a papist. After a trial of
five days sentence of death was pronounced upon him, and on the 29th of
December, 1680, he was beheaded on Tower Hill.

Like those who had suffered from similar charges, he protested his
innocence to the last; but his words met with a reception different from
theirs. Their dying speeches had been greeted by groans, hisses, and
signs of insatiable fury; but his declarations fell upon silent and
sympathizing hearts. When he had made denial of the crimes of which he
was accused, a great cry rose from the mob, "We believe you--we believe
you, my lord;" and then a single voice calling out "God bless you!"
the words were taken up and repeated by a vast throng, so that the last
sounds he heard on earth were those of prayer. He died with a
firmness worthy of his caste. Having laid his head upon the block, the
executioner brandished his axe in the air, and then set it quietly
down at his feet. Raising his head, Lord Stafford inquired the cause of
delay; the executioner replied he awaited a sign. "Take your time," said
he who stood at the verge of eternity; "I shall make no sign." He who
held the axe in his hand hesitated a second, and then said in a low and
troubled voice, "Do you forgive me, sir?" To which Lord Stafford made
brief answer, "I do." Then he laid his head again upon the blood-stained
block. Once more the glitter of steel flashed through the air, a groan
arose from the crowd, and Lord Stafford's head was severed from his
body.

A reaction now set in, and gained strength daily. The remaining peers
were in due time liberated; the blood of innocent victims was no longer
shed; and the Duke of York was recalled. Such was the end of the popish
plot, which, says Archdeacon Eachard, "after the strictest and coolest
examinations, and after a full length of time, the government could find
v