He was buried on Sunday, April 30, in Sleepy Hollow, a beautiful grove on the edge of the village, consecrated as a burial-place in 1855, Emerson delivering the address. Here, at the foot of a tall pine-tree upon the top of the ridge in the highest part of the grounds, his body was laid, not far from the graves of Hawthorne and of Thoreau, and surrounded by those of his kindred.[20]
James Elliot Cabot
Emmet (Robert, an eloquent Irish enthusiast and sincere patriot, and one of the chiefs of the "United Irishmen"), 1780-1803. "Not—"
He said on the scaffold, at the close of a brief address: "My friends, I die in peace, and with sentiments of universal love and kindness towards all men." He then shook hands with some persons on the platform, presented his watch to the executioner, and removed his stock. The immediate preparations for execution then were carried into effect, he assisted in adjusting the rope round his neck, and was then placed on the plank underneath the beam, and the cap was drawn over his face; but he contrived to raise his hand, partly removed it, and spoke a few words in a low tone to the executioner. The cap was replaced, and he stood with a handkerchief in his hand, the fall of which was to be the signal for the last act of the "finisher of the law." After standing on the plank for a few seconds the executioner said: "Are you ready, sir?" and Emmet said, "Not yet." There was another momentary pause; no signal was given; again the executioner repeated the question. "Are you ready, sir?" And again Emmet said, "Not yet." The question was put a third time, and Emmet pronounced the word "Not;" but before he had time to utter another word the executioner tilted one end of the plank off the ledge.
Madden's Life of Emmet.
Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and me repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed until other times and other men can do justice to my character. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth—then, and not till then—let my epitaph be written I have done.—From Emmet's Last Speech.
See Moore's beautiful poem on Emmet's fate and on his attachment to Miss Curran in two of the Irish Melodies.
Emmons (Rev. Dr. Nathaniel, distinguished New England theologian and divine), 1745-1840. "I am ready."
Enghien d' (Louis Antoine Henri de Bourbon, Duc. French prince who was arrested on neutral territory on suspicion of conspiracy, and, after a military trial which was little better than a farce, shot), 1772-1804. To the soldiers who had pointed their guns he said: "Grenadiers! lower your arms, otherwise you will miss me or only wound me." Some say his last words were: "Is there no priest at the château?—is there no priest?"
A lantern glimmering at either end of the file of soldiers shewed d'Enghien his fate. As the sentence of death was read, he wrote in pencil a message to his wife, folded and gave it to the officer in command of the file, and asked for a priest. There was no priest in residence at the château. He prayed a moment, covering his face with his hands. As he raised his head, the officer gave the word to fire.