The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 558, July 21, 1832

But a gentleman coming near the axe, the King said, "Take heed of the axe, pray take heed of the axe."

Then speaking unto the executioner, he said, "I shall say but very short prayers, and when I thrust out my hands—"

Then turning to the Bishop, he said, "I have a good cause, and a gracious God on my side."

"The Bishop. There is but one stage more, this stage is turbulent and troublesome, it is a short one; but you may consider it will soon carry you a very great way, it will carry you from earth to heaven; and there you will find a great deal of cordial joy and comfort."

"The King. I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no disturbance can be, no disturbance in the world."

"The Bishop. You are exchanged from a temporary to an eternal crown; a good exchange."

Then the King said to the executioner, "Is my hair well?" and took off his cloak and his George, giving his George to the Bishop, saying, "Remember." Then he put off his doublet, and being in his waistcoat, he put on his cloak again; then looking upon the block, he said to the executioner, "You must set it fast."

"Executioner. It is fast, Sir."

"The King. When I put out my hands this way (stretching them out), then—" After that, having said two or three words to himself, as he stood with his hands and eyes lift up, immediately stooping down, he laid his neck upon the block.⁷ And then the executioner again putting his hair under his cap, the King, thinking he was going to strike, said, "Stay for the sign."

"Executioner. Yes, I will, and please your Majesty."—After a little pause, the King stretching forth his hands, the executioner at one blow severed his head from his body, and held it up and showed it to the people, saying, "Behold the head of a traitor!" At the instant when the blow was given, a dismal universal groan was uttered by the people (as if by one consent) such as was never before heard; and as soon as the execution was over, one troop of horse marched rapidly from Charing Cross to King Street, and another from King Street to Charing Cross, to disperse and scatter the multitude.

Though Joyce and Hugh Peters have been suspected of inflicting the murderous blow on Charles, and though another claimant for this infamous distinction is put forward in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1767, there seems little doubt that Richard Brandon, the common hangman, assisted by his man, Ralph Jones, a ragman in Rosemary Lane, in fact perpetrated the deed. Among the tracts relative to the Civil War presented to the British Museum by George III., in 1762, are three on this subject, which are fully noticed in a note to Mr. Ellis's Letters on English History, vol. iii. (second series.) It appears, by the register of Whitechapel Church, that Richard Brandon was buried there on the 24th of June, 1649; and a marginal note (not in the hand of the Registrar, but bearing the mark of antiquity), states, "This R. Brandon is supposed to have cut off the head of Charles I."—One of the tracts, entitled "The Confession of Richard Brandon, the Hangman, upon his Death-bed, concerning the Beheading of his late Majesty," printed in 1649, states, "During the time of his sickness, his conscience was much troubled, and exceedingly perplexed in mind; and on Sunday last, a young man of his acquaintance going to visit him, fell into discourse, asked him how he did, and whether he was not troubled in conscience for cutting off the King's head. He replied yes, by reason that (upon the time of his tryall) he had taken a vow and protestation, wishing God to punish him, body and soul, if ever he appeared on the scaffold to do the act, or lift up his hand against him. He likewise confessed that he had 30l. for his pains, all paid him in half-crowns within an hour after the blow was given; and he had an orange stuck full with cloves, and a handkircher out of the King's pocket, so soon as he was carried off the scaffold; for which orange he was proffered twenty shillings by a gentleman in Whitechapel, but refused the same, and afterwards sold it for ten shillings in Rosemary Lane. About eight o'clock at night he returned home to his wife, living in Rosemary Lane, and gave her the money, saying, it was the dearest money, he earned in his life, for it would cost him his life. About three days before he died, he lay speechless, uttering many a sigh and heavy groan, and so in a desperate state departed from his bed of sorrow. For the burial whereof great store of wines were sent in by the sheriff of the city of London, and a great multitude of people stood wayting to see his corpse carried to the churchyard, some crying out, 'Hang him, rogue!'—'Bury him in the dunghill.'—Others pressing upon him, saying they would quarter him for executing the King, insomuch that the churchwardens and masters of the parish were fain to come for the suppressing of them: and with great difficulty he was at last carried to Whitechapel churchyard, having (as it is said) a branch of rosemary at each end of the coffin, on the top thereof, with a rope crosse from one end to the other, a merry conceited cook, living at the sign of the Crown, having a black fan (worth the value of 30s.), took a resolution to rent the same in pieces: and to every feather tied a piece of packthread, dyed in black ink, and gave them to divers persons, who, in derision, for a while wore them in their hats."—See Ellis, ubi supra. The second tract states, that the first victim Brandon beheaded was the Earl of Stratford.

"When the body was put into a coffin at Whitehall," says Rushworth, "there were many sighs and weeping eyes at the scene; and divers strove to dip their handkerchiefs in the King's blood." A general gloom and consternation pervaded London on the day of this atrocious perpetration; many of the chief inhabitants either shut themselves up in their houses, or absented themselves from the city. On that day none of the courts of justice sat; and on the next, Whitelocke, one of the commissioners of the Great Seal, says, "The commissioners met, but did not think fit to do any business, or seal any writs, because of the King's death." Whitelocke says, "I went not to the House, but stayed all day at home in my study, and at my prayers, that this day's work might not so displease God as to bring prejudice to this poor afflicted nation."⁸ Evelyn, in his Diary, writes, "I kept the day of this martyrdom as a fast, and would not be present at that execrable wickedness, receiving the sad account of it from my brother George and Mr. Owen, who came to visit me this afternoon, and recounted all the circumstances." Archbishop Usher came out to witness the scene from his house at Whitehall; but he fainted when the King was led out on the scaffold.

The Journals of the Commons show, either that nothing was done, or that it was thought fit to enter nothing on these eventful days. On the day of the execution there is only the following remarkable entry:—

"Ordered, That the common post be stayed until to-morrow morning 10 o'clock."

On the 31st, Commissary-general Ireton reports a paper of divers particulars touching the King's body, his George, his diamond, and two seals. The question being put, that the diamond be sent to Charles Stuart, son of the late King, commonly called Prince of Wales, it passed with the negative. The same question was then put, separately, as to the garter, the George, and the seals: as to each, it passed in the negative.

When the news of the decapitation of the King reached Scotland, that loyal people were moved with horror and indignation.

Most of the gentry put on mourning; the chair of state in the parliament house, the uppermost seats in the kirks, and almost all the pulpits, were clothed in black.

The body of the King being embalmed, under the orders of Herbert and bishop Juxon, was removed to St. James's. The usurpers of the government refused permission to bury it in Henry the VII.'s Chapel, from a dread of the indignation of the crowds who would assemble on so solemn and interesting an occasion; but, at last, after some deliberation, the council allowed it to be privately interred in St. George's Chapel at Windsor, provided the expenses of the funeral should not exceed five hundred pounds. The last duties of love and respect were (according to Charles's express desire) paid to their sovereign's corpse by the Duke of Richmond, the Marquess of Hertford, Lord Southampton, Lord Lindsey, the Bishop of London, Herbert, and Mildmay, who, on producing a vote of the Commons, were admitted by Whichcote, the Governor of Windsor Castle, to the chapel. When the body was carried out of St. George's Hall, the sky was serene and clear; but presently a storm of snow fell so fast, that before it reached the chapel the pall and the mourners were entirely whitened. When the bishop proposed to read the burial service according to the rites of the Church of England, this fanatical governor roughly refused, saying, "that that Common Prayer Book was put down, and he would not suffer it to be used in that garrison where he commanded." Clarendon thus describes, with graphic simplicity, the sad scene to its close:—

"But when they entered into it (the chapel), which they had been so well acquainted with, they found it so altered and transformed, all inscriptions and those landmarks pulled down, by which all men knew every particular place in that church, and such a dismal mutation over the whole that they knew not where they where; nor was there one old officer that had belonged to it, or knew where our Princes had used to be interred. At last there was a fellow of the town who undertook to tell them the place where, he said, 'there was a vault in which King Harry the Eighth and Queen Jane Seymour were interred.' As near that place as could conveniently be they caused the grave to be made. There the King's body was laid, without any words, or other ceremonies, than the tears and sighs of the few beholders. Upon the coffin was a plate of silver fixed, with these words only, 'King Charles, 1648.' When the coffin was put in, the black velvet pall that had covered it was thrown over it, and then the earth thrown in; which the governor staid to see perfectly done, and then took the keys of the church.

"Owing to the privacy of this interment, doubts were at the time current as to its having actually taken place. It was asserted that the King's body was buried in the sand at Whitehall; and Aubrey states a report, that the coffin carried to Windsor was filled with rubbish and brick-bats. These doubts were entirely removed by the opening of the coffin (which was found where Clarendon described it,) in the presence of George the Fourth, then Prince Regent, in April, 1813—of which Sir Henry Halford has published an interesting narrative. On removing the black pall which Herbert described, a plain leaden coffin was found, with the inscription 'King Charles, 1648.' Within this was a wooden coffin, much decayed, and the body carefully wrapped in cerecloth, into the folds of which an unctuous matter mixed with resin had been melted, to exclude the external air. The skin was dark and discoloured—the pointed beard perfect—the shape of the face was a long oval—many of the teeth remained—the hair was thick at the back of the head, and in appearance nearly black—that of the beard was of a redder brown. The head was severed from the body. The fourth cervical vertebra was found to be cut through transversely, leaving the surfaces of the divided portions perfectly smooth and even;—'an appearance,' says Sir H. Halford, 'which could have been produced only by a heavy blow inflicted with a very sharp instrument, and which furnished the last proof wanting to identify King Charles I.'"

(The volume is embellished with a Portrait of the King, and Outline Prints of the Trial and Execution.)