om the Parliament; so did the
Queen, by letter likewise.

Notwithstanding all, the warrant for the execution was this day signed.
There is a story that as Oliver Cromwell went to the table with the pen
in his hand to put his signature to it, he drew his pen across the face
of one of the commissioners, who was standing near, and marked it with
ink. That commissioner had not signed his own name yet, and the story
adds that when he came to do it he marked Cromwell's face with ink in the
same way.

The King slept well, untroubled by the knowledge that it was his last
night on earth, and rose on the thirtieth of January, two hours before
day, and dressed himself carefully. He put on two shirts lest he should
tremble with the cold, and had his hair very carefully combed. The
warrant had been directed to three officers of the army, COLONEL HACKER,
COLONEL HUNKS, and COLONEL PHAYER. At ten o'clock, the first of these
came to the door and said it was time to go to Whitehall. The King, who
had always been a quick walker, walked at his usual speed through the
Park, and called out to the guard, with his accustomed voice of command,
'March on apace!' When he came to Whitehall, he was taken to his own
bedroom, where a breakfast was set forth. As he had taken the Sacrament,
he would eat nothing more; but, at about the time when the church bells
struck twelve at noon (for he had to wait, through the scaffold not being
ready), he took the advice of the good BISHOP JUXON who was with him, and
ate a little bread and drank a glass of claret. Soon after he had taken
this refreshment, Colonel Hacker came to the chamber with the warrant in
his hand, and called for Charles Stuart.

And then, through the long gallery of Whitehall Palace, which he had
often seen light and gay and merry and crowded, in very different times,
the fallen King passed along, until he came to the centre window of the
Banqueting House, through which he emerged upon the scaffold, which was
hung with black. He looked at the two executioners, who were dressed in
black and masked; he looked at the troops of soldiers on horseback and on
foot, and all looked up at him in silence; he looked at the vast array of
spectators, filling up the view beyond, and turning all their faces upon
him; he looked at his old Palace of St. James's; and he looked at the
block. He seemed a little troubled to find that it was so low, and
asked, 'if there were no place higher?' Then, t