On the day before the execution Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Gloucester, the only royal children who remained in England, were admitted to their father's prison to bid him farewell. They both sobbed passionately. King Charles drew them to his bosom with words of consolation, and solemnly blessed them.
He told the princess not to grieve for him, for his was a glorious death,—for the laws and religion of the land; advised her what books to read; bade her to forgive his enemies, as he hoped God would, and charged her to be obedient to her mother, and to tell her that his love for her would be the same to the last.
Then taking little Gloucester on his knee, he said: "Sweetheart, now will they cut off thy father's head. Heed, my child, what I say: they will cut off my head, and perhaps make thee king; but, mark what I say, you must not be a king so long as your brothers Charles and James live; therefore, I charge you, do not be made a king by them."
Earnestly looking up into his father's face, the boy replied: "I will be torn in pieces first." This unexpected answer pleased his majesty, who with a few more words of advice fervently kissed his children, and ordered them to be taken away. They sobbed aloud, and the king turned away as they passed out, and leaned his head against the window trying to repress his tears. While this painful interview was taking place Cromwell and his gang of ruffians sat in secret conclave to determine upon the hour of their victim's death; and some of them swore later that it was only violent threats on the part of their leader that forced them to place their signatures to the fatal warrant.
The noble and dignified bearing of the king as he ascended the scaffold was noticed by all who saw him, and the populace, who were kept at a distance by a dense mass of soldiers, wept amidst their blessings and prayers for the martyr king.
Charles made a short speech, saying that "if he had been a despot he might have remained their sovereign; but he died to preserve the liberties of the people of England." Some one touched the axe while he was speaking. "Have a care of the axe!" he exclaimed, "if the edge be spoiled it will be the worse for me."
Then his executioner kneeled before him and asked forgiveness. Charles drew himself up with proud dignity and replied;—"No! I forgive no subject of mine who comes deliberately to shed my blood."
He then said a short prayer, raised his eyes to heaven, then placed his head upon the block. It was severed with one blow, as a cry of agony arose from the horrified multitude.
Queen Henrietta did not hear of the dreadful fate that had overtaken her husband for several days; and when at last it was communicated to her, she stood motionless as a statue, without words or tears.
The visit of the Duchess de Vendôme, whom the queen tenderly loved, produced a change in the afflicted widow, who burst into a passionate fit of weeping at the tender words of sympathy expressed by her friend. She called herself the most miserable woman on the face of the earth, and resolved to retire with a few of her ladies to the Carmelite Convent in Paris. She well knew that for the future life could contain nothing but bitterness for her, and said: "I have lost a crown, but that I had long ceased to regret; it is my husband for whom I grieve,—the good, just, wise, virtuous man, so worthy of my love and that of his subjects."