“Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori;”
and afterwards from Ovid,
“Nam genus et proavos, et quæ non fecimus ipsi,
Vix ea nostra voco”—
He then desired all the people to stand off, except his two warders, who supported his lordship while he said a prayer; after which, he called his solicitor and agent in Scotland, Mr. W. Fraser, and, presenting his gold-headed cane, said, “I deliver you this cane in token of my sense of your faithful services, and of my committing to you all the power I have upon earth,” and then embraced him. He also called for Mr. James Fraser, and said, “My dear James, I am going to heaven; but you must continue to crawl a little longer in this evil world.” And, taking leave of both, he delivered his hat, wig, and clothes, to Mr. William Fraser, desiring him to see that the executioner did not touch them. He ordered his cap to be put on, and, unloosing his neckcloth and the collar of his shirt, kneeled down at the block, and pulled the cloth which was to receive his head close to him. But, being placed too near the block, the executioner desired him to remove a little further back, which, with the warders’ assistance, was immediately done; and, his neck being properly placed, he told the executioner he would say a short prayer, and then give the signal by dropping his handkerchief. In this posture he remained about half a minute, and then, throwing his handkerchief on the floor, the executioner at one blow cut off his head, which was received in the cloth, and, with his body, was put into the coffin, and carried in a hearse back to the Tower, where it was interred near the bodies of the other lords.
His lordship professed himself a papist, and, at his request, was attended by Mr. Baker, attached to the chapel of the Sardinian ambassador; and though he insisted much on the services he had done the royal family in 1715, yet he declared, but a few days before his death, that he had been concerned in all the schemes formed for restoring the house of Stuart since he was fifteen years old.
This nobleman’s intellectual powers seem to have been considerable, and his learning extensive. He spoke Latin, French, and English, fluently, and other modern languages intelligibly. He studied at Aberdeen, and disputed his philosophy in Greek; and, though he was educated a protestant, yet, after three years’ study of divinity and controversy, he turned papist. He maintained an appearance of that facetious disposition for which he was remarkable, to the last; and seems to have taken great pains to quit the stage, not only with decency, but with that dignity which is thought to distinguish the good conscience and the noble mind.
The following lines upon the execution of these noblemen are said to have been repeated with great energy by Dr. Johnson, although there appears to be no ground for supposing that they were the Doctor’s own composition. They first appeared in the Gentleman’s Magazine:
“Pitied by gentle minds, Kilmarnock died;
The brave, Balmerino, were on thy side;
Ratcliffe, unhappy in his crimes of youth,
Steady in what he still mistook for truth,
Beheld his death so decently unmoved,
The soft lamented, and the brave approved.
But Lovat’s end indifferently we view,
True to no king, to no religion true:
No fair forgets the ruin he has done;
No child laments the tyrant of his son;
No Tory pities, thinking what he was;
No Whig compassions, for he left the cause;
The brave regret not, for he was not brave,
The honest mourn not, knowing him a knave.”
FRANCIS TOWNLEY, JAMES DAWSON, AND OTHERS.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
THESE prisoners were parties to the same plot, and all of them held ranks in the Pretender’s army. Dawson had paid addresses to a young lady, to whom he was to have been married immediately after his enlargement, if the solicitations that were made for his pardon had been attended with the desired effect.
The circumstance of his love, and the melancholy that was produced by his death, are so admirably treated in the following ballad of Shenstone, that Dawson’s story will probably be remembered and regretted when that of the rest of the rebels will be forgotten.
JEMMY DAWSON: A BALLAD.
Come listen to my mournful tale,
Ye tender hearts and lovers dear,
Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh,
Nor will you blush to shed a tear.
And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid,
Do thou a pensive ear incline;
For canst thou weep at every woe,
And pity every ’plaint, but mine?
Young Dawson was a gallant youth,
A lighter never trod the plain;
And well he loved one charming maid,
And dearly was he loved again.
One tender maid, she loved him dear,
Of gentle blood the damsel came;
And faultless was her beauteous form,
And spotless was her virgin fame.
But curse on parties’ hateful strife,
That led the faithful youth astray!
The day the rebel clans appear’d—
(Oh! had he never seen that day!)
Their colours and their sash he wore,
And in their fatal dress was found;
And now he must that death endure
Which gives the brave the keenest wound.
How pale was then his true-love’s cheek
When Jemmy’s sentence reach’d her ear!
For never yet did Alpine snows
So pale nor yet so chill, appear.
“Yet, might sweet mercy find a place,
And bring relief to Jemmy’s woes,
O George! without a prayer for thee
My orisons should never close.
“The gracious prince that gives him life
Would crown a never-dying flame;
And every tender babe I bore
Should learn to lisp the giver’s name.
“But though, dear youth, thou shouldst be dragg’d
To yonder ignominious tree,
Thou shalt not want a faithful friend
To share thy bitter fate with thee.”
O, then her mourning-coach was call’d;
The sledge moved slowly on before;—
Though borne in a triumphal car,
She had not loved her favourite more.
She follow’d him, prepared to view
The terrible behests of law;
And the last scene of Jemmy’s woes,
With calm and steadfast eyes she saw.
Distorted was that blooming face
Which she had fondly loved so long,
And stifled was that tuneful breath
Which in her praise had sweetly sung;
And sever’d