The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1870-08-06

y anu suspense AlOr0 tuH0 siA h"N
Q passed, but still no pardon came for James
Dawson. The fury of the civil war wa
3 spent, the royal AdventGrer had escaped
| the vengeance of the sword was satisfied
3 and the law of the conquerOrs, and the
scaffolds Of the law, called for the blood o.
those whom the sword had saved. The sol
dier laid down his weapon, and the execu
toner took up bis. On the leaders of the
| Manchester regiment the vengeance of the
bloodthirsty law first fell. 1t was on the
evening of the l4th Of July, 1746, James
, Dawson sat in bis prison; Fanny sat by
his side, with her hand in bis, and his pa
rents were ready also, when the jailor en-
tered, and ordered him to prepare to bold
himself in readiness for bis trial, in the
courthouse at St. Margaret's, Southwark,
on the following day. His father groaned
his mother exclaimed, 'My son !''-but
Fanny sat motionless. No tear was in her
eye-no muscle in her countenance moved.
Her fingers grasped his with firmer pres
sure-but she evinced no other symptom of
having heard the mandate that was deliver
ed. They rose to depart, and low deep
sigh issued from her bosom but she show
ed no sign of violent grief; her feelings
were already exhausted-her heart could
bear no more.
On the following day, eighteen victims,
with the gallant Townly at their head, we're
brought fortI for trial before a grand jury.
Amongst them, as one Of the chief, was
James Dawson. Fanny had insisted on
being presen.. She heard the word gully
pronounced with yet deeper apathy than
she had eYinced at the announcement of
bis trial She folded her hands upon her
bosom, her lips moved as in prayer, but she
shed not a single tear, she breathcd not
single sigh. She arose, she beckoned to
her attendants, and accompanied them from
the court house.
Still his friends entertained the hope that
the Pardon Power might be moved-they
redoubled their exertions-they increased
their importunities-they were willing to
make any sacrifice so that his life might be
but saved-and even then, at the eleventh
hour, they hoped against hope. But Fanny
yielded not to the vain thought. Day af-
ter day she sat by her lovers side, and she,
in her turn, became his comforter. She no
longer spoke of their bridal-bu, she spoke
Of eternity; she spoke Of their meeting
where the ambition, the rivalry, and the
power of princes should be able to cast no
cloud over the happiness Of the soul.
Fourteen days had passed, and during
that time he betrayed no sign of terror
she evinced none of a woman's weakness.
She seemed to have mastered her griefs and
her soul was prepared to meet them. Yet,
save only when she spoke to him, her soul
appeared entranced, and her body hfeless.
Onithe 29th of July an order was brought
for the execution of the victims on the fol
lowing day. James Dawson bowed bis
head to the officer who delivered the warrant,
and calmly answered, 81 am prepared :"
The cries Of his mother rang through the
prison-house. She tore her hair-she sank
-.r>--L-~ -~d-----L---A---G- Il
spare her child. His father groaned, be
held the hand of bis son in bis, and the
tears gushed down bis furrowed che. As.
Fanny alone was silent-she alone was
tranquil. No throe of agony swelled her
bosom, flushed in her countenance,o or burned
in her eye. She was calm, speechless, re-
signed. He pressed her to bis bosom, as
they took their last farewell.
''Adieu !-adeu ~ be cried. "My Fan |
ny-farewell an eternal FAREWELL
''Nay, nay" she replied, ''say not eter-
nal-we shall meet again. IT'S a short
farewell--I feel it feel IT, Adieu, love
-adieu. Die firmly. We shall meet
soon."
Next morning the prisoners were to be
dragged on sledges to Kensington Common,
which was the place appointed for their exc
cution. In the first sledge was the execu-
toner, sitting over bis pinioned victims with
drawn sword in bis hand. No priest-no
minister Of religion attended them; and
around the sledges followed thousands, some
few expressing sympathy, but the majority
following from curiosity, and others venting
their execrations against all traitors. In the |
midst Of the multitude was a hackney
coach, following the sledges, and in it was
the gentle Fanny Lester, accompanied by
relative and female friend. They had en-
deavored to persuade her from The fearful
trial; but she was calm, resolute, and not
to be moved, and they yielded to her wish.
The coach drew up within thirty yards Of
the scaffold; Fanny pulled down the win
dow, and leaning over it, she beheld the
piles Of fagots lighted around the scafold
she saw the flames ascend, and the sol |
diers form circle round them She saw
the victims leave the sledge she looked
upon him whom her heart loved as he
mounted the place of death, and bis step
was firm, bis countenance unmoved She
saw him join in prayer with his companions,
and her eyes we're fixed on him as he flung
papers and bis hat among the multitude.
She saw the fatal signal given, and the
drop fall-she heard the horrid shout, the
yell that burst from the multitude, but not
a muscle Of her frame n 1. She gazed
calmly, as though it had zen on bridal
ceremony. She beheld the executioner be-
gin the barbarities which the law awards to
treason-the clothes were torn from the vic
TINS one by one they were cut down and
the finisher Of the law, with the horrid knife
in bis hand, proceeded to lay open their bO-
SONS, and taking out their hearts, flung
them on the faggots that blazod around the
scaffold. The last spectacle Of barbarity
was James Dawson, and when the execu-
toner had plunged the knife in his breast,
be raised his heart in his hand, and holding
it moment before the horror-stricken and
disguised multitude, be cast it into the
flames, exclaiming, as he flung it from him,
'God save King Georger' Fanny beheld
this-her eyes became blind-she heard not
the shout Of the multitude drew back
her head into the coach-it dropped upon
the shoulder Of her companion. my dear |!
| follow thee II follow thee she ex-
claimed, clasping her hands together.