* Hieronimo in the Spanish tragedy.
Another reason why the ludicrous associates more forcibly with this than
with any other mode of punishment, I cannot help thinking to be, the
senseless costume with which an old prescription has thought fit to
clothe the exit of malefactors in this country. Let a man do what
he will to abstract from his imagination all idea of the whimsical,
something of it will come across him when he contemplates the figure of
a fellow-creature in the day-time (in however distressing a situation)
in a night-cap. Whether it be that this nocturnal addition has something
discordant with day-light, or that it is the dress which we are seen in
at those times when we are “seen,” as the Angel in Milton expresses it,
“least wise;” this I am afraid will always be the case; unless, indeed,
as in my instance, some strong personal feeling overpower the ludicrous
altogether. To me, when I reflect upon the train of misfortunes which
have pursued me through life, owing to that accursed drapery, the cap
presents as purely frightful an object as the sleeveless yellow coat
and devil-painted mitre of the San Benitos. An ancestor of mine, who
suffered for his loyalty in the time of the civil wars, was so sensible
of the truth of what I am here advancing, that, on the morning of
execution, no entreaties could prevail upon him to submit to the odious
dishabile, as he called it, but he insisted upon wearing, and actually
suffered in, the identical flowing periwig which he is painted in, in
the gallery belonging to my uncle’s seat.
Suffer me, Mr. Editor, before I quit the subject, to say a word or two
respecting the minister of justice in this country; in plain words,
I mean the hangman. It has always appeared tome, that, in the mode
of inflicting capital punishments with us, there is too much of the
ministry of the human hand. The guillotine, as performing its functions
more of itself, and sparing human agency, though a cruel and disgusting
exhibition, in my mind, has in many ways the advantage over _our way_.
In beheading, indeed, as it was formerly practised in England, and in
whipping to death, as is sometimes practised now, the hand of man is no
doubt sufficiently busy; but there is something less repugnant in these
downright blows, than in the officious barber-like ministrings of the
other. To have a fellow with his hangman’s hands fumbling about your
collar, adjusting the thing as your valet would regulate your cravat,
valuing himself on his menial dexterity--I never shall forget meeting
my rascal--I mean the fellow who officiated for me,--in London
last winter. I think I see him now,--in a waistcoat that had been
mine,--smirking along as if he knew me.
[Illustration: 265]
In some parts of Germany that fellow’s office is by law declared
infamous, and his posterity incapable of being ennobled. They have
hereditary hangmen, or had at least, in the same manner as they had
other hereditary great officers of state, and the hangman’s families of
two adjoining parishes intermarried with each other, to keep the breed
entire. I wish something of the same kind were established in England.
But it is time to quit a subject which teems with disagreeable images,
lest we should suffer by _contamination._
Permit me to subscribe myself, Mr. Editor, your unfortunate
friend,--Pensilis.
[CHARLES LAMB.]
[Illustration: 267]