35368241 the Execution

8/8/2019 35368241 the Execution

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The Execution

8/8/2019 35368241 the Execution


We are all afraid in our own ways. There are things that some people fear that cannot be

explained away and that fear lingers on in the dark of the night lingers on to consume us and

make us creatures of weakness. Yet darkness and light are not straightforward and they are not

cut from two different moulds. Darkness is but an absence of light. If we can simply shine brightly

at that which terrifies us so then there will be no darkness remaining; only light.

***

I look out of the window towards the skyline and feel the dawn sun upon my face. Dawn

one of the most tantalising and beautiful times of day. To see the dawn and the sunset are to see

glimpses of heaven. I have thought all my life of God; pleasing God, being amenable to God and

following Gods word. Now I face the time in which I must join God I do not think of him. All I think of

is that which I am leaving behind. Life is so very precious when you are about to lose it and so

disposable when it seems stretched out for an eternity before you.

Despite the warmth of the sunrise the cell is cold. Deathly cold, I think wryly, surprised I

have the strength to be witty at such a time. They had given me a pallet and a blanket yet I have

ignored the former and instead sat upon the barred windows edge all night, the blanket wrapped

around my shoulders as I had not dressed for imprisonment when I was arrested. I had been dressed

to see the King court finery which was impractical as it was beautiful. There is something very

funny about a fine dress besmirched by the dirt of a prison floor.

I wonder aimlessly as to whether I am going mad. I have been locked up here for some time

and am not, as I had hoped, gaining the release I had imaged I would receive. I have heard much

about those awaiting execution going insane hysterical perhaps being a better word. They said

Anne Boleyn wittered inanities until she faced the scaffold itself and jested of her little neck to the

Tower Warden. Despite the sort of numbness which has overtaken me since my sentence has been

passed I do not feel the need to cry or grieve for the life I am soon to lose. What would be the point,

after all, when we all to die sometime?

***

The scaffold is tall. Much taller than I remember from the executions I have seen before. The

statement makes me sound like one who enjoys watching others die. It is not the case. I have seen

many great men and women fall foul of the Kings temper and die at the end of an axe. It shall too

be my fate and, I fear, those of many after me.

The fear which I had not felt before, in my prison cell, is now rearing its ugly head as I fight

to suppress it. Yet it is so hard not to fear death despite all my blustering to the contrary whenever

the matter was previously discussed. I take deep breath to steady myself as I walk through the

crowd. They are all silent and I am almost pleased by the fact. At least I am not being booed and

ridiculed as others have been before me. Yet I am generally well liked I think. Not beloved; obviously

not beloved or else I would not be walking to my death, but liked well enough nonetheless.

As I mount the steps it occurs to me that my feet shall never touch the Earth again. For the

last few minutes of my life I shall stand only upon wood. The thought causes my stomach to lurch

yet I try to hide it. I do not wish to appear weak before those who have come to watch me die. My

hands are shaking and I clasp them before me in an attempt to stop it being so very obvious.

8/8/2019 35368241 the Execution


Good... I begin, my voice faltering slightly as I catch sight of the executioner - watching me

stand and address the crowd for what will be the last time. Good Christian people. I have come

here, on this day, to die in accordance with the wishes of our most sovereign King; Henry VIII.

Although I shall not; and never will, admit to committing any act against the Kings majesty I will

hereby announce before you all that I hold no ill will towards him for this. He is ill advised and that is

no fault of his own. I pray you all love, honour and obey the King in all and I wish him long life andgood health. I also beg you to pray for my pitiful soul as I face... I stumble over my words as I steel

myself to say the fateful word out loud, As I face my death. Pray for me.

Immediately the sound of God bless you, my lady. rings out from the crowd; once,

twice...many times. I know not who these people are but I am glad they are here to give me courage.

I then look to the executioner who has come to kneel before me.

Forgive me for what I must do, my lady. I smile shakily and touch his shoulder to indicate

that he should rise.

There is nothing to forgive. I reply before handing him his purse and turning to the block.

The block I fear it more than the axe for I shall not have to see the axe. Yet the block I shall have to

see, touch, smell...

I kneel quickly and grip the edges of the block tightly. I am very afraid now and can, despite

myself, feel tears upon my cheeks. It is almost pitiful that I leave no one behind there is no family,

no husband or children...the thought is sobering indeed. I slowly lean forward and place my neck

where it should go, looking to the side and meeting the eyes of an old man as I do so. He nods to me

and calls,

God bless you! I smile in return, tears running down my face and falling into my hair from

my position vulnerable and ready to die. I am glad the sun is shining, I think, I am glad I shall feel

the sun upon my skin one last time...

***

No matter whom you are or what you believe death will always be a mystery to you whilst

you still draw breath. And yet; the biggest adventures of all are those of which we cannot predict

the outcome.

Image by Evgeni Dinev

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35368241 the Execution