he had gathered in the fields to eat. The only other articles he
had upon him were a few papers and little books: one of the latter being
a strange jumble, in his own writing, of charms, songs, recipes, and
prayers. He was completely broken. He wrote a miserable letter to the
King, beseeching and entreating to be allowed to see him. When he was
taken to London, and conveyed bound into the King's presence, he crawled
to him on his knees, and made a most degrading exhibition. As James
never forgave or relented towards anybody, he was not likely to soften
towards the issuer of the Lyme proclamation, so he told the suppliant to
prepare for death.

On the fifteenth of July, one thousand six hundred and eighty-five, this
unfortunate favourite of the people was brought out to die on Tower Hill.
The crowd was immense, and the tops of all the houses were covered with
gazers. He had seen his wife, the daughter of the Duke of Buccleuch, in
the Tower, and had talked much of a lady whom he loved far better--the
LADY HARRIET WENTWORTH--who was one of the last persons he remembered in
this life. Before laying down his head upon the block he felt the edge
of the axe, and told the executioner that he feared it was not sharp
enough, and that the axe was not heavy enough. On the executioner
replying that it was of the proper kind, the Duke said, 'I pray you have
a care, and do not use me so awkwardly as you used my Lord Russell.' The
executioner, made nervous by this, and trembling, struck once and merely
gashed him in the neck. Upon this, the Duke of Monmouth raised his head
and looked the man reproachfully in the face. Then he struck twice, and
then thrice, and then threw down the axe, and cried out in a voice of
horror that he could not finish that work. The sheriffs, however,
threatening him with what should be done to himself if he did not, he
took it up again and struck a fourth time and a fifth time. Then the
wretched head at last fell off, and James, Duke of Monmouth, was dead, in
the thirty-sixth year of his age. He was a showy, graceful man, with
many popular qualities, and had found much favour in the open hearts of
the English.

The atrocities, committed by the Government, which followed this Monmouth
rebellion, form the blackest and most lamentable page in English history.
The poor peasants, having been dispersed with great loss, and their
leaders having been taken, one would think that the implacable King migh