Queen Elizabeth when, as a Princess, she was a prisoner in the Tower. The Duke's imprisonment lasted only two nights and one day before his execution. He was allowed to see his wife, for whom he had no great affection, and his children; and four divines were in constant attendance, and remained with him to the end. These appear to have been chiefly concerned in endeavouring to persuade him to repent of his affection for Lady Henrietta Wentworth, who was the great passion of his life. One historian relates that these good, if somewhat tactless, prelates kept wrangling with the Duke on this subject all the way, as he walked up Tower Hill to the block.

The execution was to be public for political reasons; for many doubted whether it was in truth the Duke who had been captured and imprisoned. Personages of the Duke of Monmouth's rank and birth might, in accordance with precedent, have been beheaded in the comparative privacy of Tower Green, where Queen Anne Boleyn, Queen Katherine Howard, and Lady Jane Grey suffered; but the greater publicity of Tower Hill without the walls was considered advisable. How great was the concourse on such an occasion may be judged from the ancient prints. Rows of grand stands such as may be seen at the Derby or at Ascot were erected which held thousands of people, whilst tens of thousands stood round or occupied coigns of vantage. The walls and roofs of the Tower were also covered with spectators. Yet in spite of the publicity thus ensured there were many who for years afterwards refused to believe that the Duke of Monmouth was dead, and averred that a condemned malefactor had taken his place at the block. So long did this legend last that some firmly believed that the "Man of the Iron Mask" imprisoned in the Bastille was none other than the Duke of Monmouth.

Whatever may have been his bearing whilst still he had hopes of saving his life by softening the heart of the King, he rose manfully to the occasion on this his great and last day. He was again the Duke of Monmouth

whom the people loved, and some almost worshipped; brave, gay, and debonair. On the way up the hill he chatted pleasantly with those about him, and buffeted good-naturedly the assaults of the clergy. When he mounted the scaffold a groan of compassion and sorrow arose from the assembled thousands, but the Duke was quite unmoved. He chatted with the executioner, asked if the axe was sharp, felt the edge of it, and bade the man do his work well and cleanly; gave him a present of six guineas, and told his servant to give him six more if he did his work well.

The Duke made no set speech, such as was customary and expected, but spoke a few sentences about Lady Henrietta Wentworth, who was evidently his last thought on earth. To his servant, Marshall, he gave his gold toothpick, saying, "Give this to the person to whom you are to deliver the other things," the person being the lady he loved. He also handed to the Sheriffs a short letter to the King:

"I declare that the title of King was forced upon me, and that it was very much contrary to my opinion, when I was proclaimed. For the satisfaction of the world, I do declare, that the late King told me he was never married to my mother. Having declared this, I hope that the King, who is now, will not let my children suffer on this account. And to this I put my hand, this fifteenth day of July, 1685. "MONMOUTH."

The Duke then took off his coat and his peruke, and having said a short prayer knelt down, and with great composure and deliberation fitted his neck to the block. He then raised his head and asked the executioner to let him feel the edge of the axe again, and remarked, only too truly as it proved, that he did not think it was sharp enough. He had no cap, or bandage over his eyes, nor was he bound. Whether truly the axe was not sharp enough, or the executioner's nerve failed him, he assuredly made a sorry exhibition. Three blows he

made, and failed to sever the head; and then throwing down the axe offered forty guineas to anyone who would complete the work. But he was ordered to take the axe again, and with two more blows completed his gruesome task. It may be some consolation to the tender-hearted, and who is not in face of such tragedy, that the second blow probably struck the Duke senseless, and the rest was more painful to the onlookers than to the victim.

The Duchess, perhaps somewhat naturally, did not claim his body, and his head being sewed to it, the Duke was buried lengthways, north and south under the communion table in the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula within the Tower. Here his remains were found in Queen Victoria's reign. The coffin had turned to dust and the legs were found partly resting on the concrete foundations of the eastern wall. There, rearranged, the bones remain to this day, buried close to the two Queens and the two Dukes.

In the Chapel register, distinct and clear, may be read under the heading 1685, "James, Duke of Monmouth, beheaded on Tower Hill ye 15th, and buryed ye 16th July."

XIV

LIFE AND DEATH IN THE TOWER

Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex-His boyhood-Attracts Queen Elizabeth-Refuses to kiss her-Early a soldier-Rapid riseAnnoys the Queen-Annoys her still more by marryingAgain in the field-Governor of Ireland-Relinquishes itThe Queen" with her hair about her face "-Essex tried and condemned, but reprieved-Attempts to seize the Queen-A dash for the Tower-Besieged at Drury House-Capitulates-To the Tower as a prisoner-Tried and condemned-The Devereux Tower-Lady Nottingham and the ring-Executed on Tower Green—Buried in St. Peter's ad Vincula-The Duke of Suffolk's head-Still well preserved-The Duke of Norfolk -His many intrigues-Howard House-The letter under the mattress-Sentence and death-Another turbulent nobleLord Grey de Wilton-Assaults Lord Southampton-Conspiracies-The farce at Winchester-Death in the TowerLady Arabella Stuart-Her career-Escape and captureImprisoned in the Tower-Dies insane-Buried in Westminster Abbey-Arthur Capel, Earl of Essex-Suspicious death in the Tower-Lieutenant Lodi-Sir Roger Casement.

N the Tower of London during the centuries of its existence there have doubtless been thousands of prisoners, and of these many hundreds have died there, or only left it for the scaffold, the gallows, or the stake. The records of the great majority of these human tragedies have been lost or destroyed, so that there remain only a few of the more prominent. Of these some have already appeared with some fullness of detail in these pages, whilst others have hitherto only been referred to incidentally.

It may therefore be of advantage, as throwing more light on the history of the Tower, to give some further account of the fate, within and without its walls, of some of these human landmarks.

ROBERT DEVEREUX, EARL OF ESSEX

Whether born, bred, or acquired, undoubtedly a hot and hasty temper, impatience of control, and unyielding stubbornness of character, brought a bright, brave, and attractive nobleman, at the early age of thirty-four, to the blood-stained block on Tower Green.

Left an orphan at the age of nine, Robert Devereux became Earl of Essex; but so impoverished a peer that only by the generosity of his guardian, Lord Burghley, was he educated and clothed. At this seeming tender age he was sent as an undergraduate to Trinity College, Cambridge. A bright and good-looking little lad, he was the following Xmas when ten years old invited by Queen Elizabeth to spend his holidays with her. It was thus early that there became evident a certain haughty independence, which accounted for much of his after troubles.

"On his coming the Queen meeting with him offered to kiss him, which he humbly altogether refused." No great harm was done on this occasion, and despite this rebuff the Queen made much of the boy during his visit. But similar and growing disregard for the sentiments of a Queen, who was not to be lightly disregarded, later had disastrous results.

The young Earl was a quick, clever, and studious boy, burning young with the high-born spirit of adventure and distinction. At the age of eighteen he procured permission to take part in the campaign in the Netherlands, and though this was no great success, the young Earl, for distinguished gallantry at the battle of Zutphen, earned his spurs, and a knight-banneret. With this early warlike record and the favour of the Queen, honours and promotion came to him like a shower from heaven. When only twenty he was made Master of the Horse, which in those days carried the privilege of walking at the Queen's bridle rein whenever she rode in State. A year later he became General of Cavalry. Shortly afterwards he was appointed a Privy Councillor; then in rapid suc