How To Give A Speech At Your Execution

When pirate William Fly ascended the scaffold on July 12, 1726, his execution speech was a shock to its respectable recorder, attending minister Cotton Mather, as well as to the rest of the crowd assembled to see the spectacle of a pirate's hanging. 

Engraving of a pirate on the scaffold

You see, the tradition of execution speeches was specific and long-established, although this genre has since fallen out of fashion (giving way to deathbed monologues followed by unexpected last-will-and-testaments), and William Fly's defiance of tradition was both bold and pointed. Execution speeches are supposed to show due penitence for the crime committed (or allegedly committed) by the condemned, and exhort the watching crowd not to follow in his or her bad example, concluding with a request for God's forgiveness; an acceptable variant is the assertion of innocence followed by a pious acknowledgement of one's sins in general.

Here are some examples:

Anne Boleyn, 1536:

"Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord. And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul."

Sir Walter Raleigh, 1618:

"...And now I entreat you all to join with me in prayer, that the great God of Heaven, whom I have grievously offended, being a man full of all vanity, and having lived a sinful life, in all sinful callings, having been a soldier, a captain, a sea captain, and a courtier, which are all places of wickedness and vice; that God, I say, would forgive me, cast away my sins from me, and receive me into everlasting life. So I take my leave of you all, making my peace with God."

Broadsides recounting executions and other
sensational events were popular in the 18th century.

Mrs. Mary Baker, 1719:

"GOOD People give good head to what I Confess, for by Subtile Inven-
tion, alas GOD's Laws I have transgressed: for by Falsehood and
cunning I have betrayed several Young Man, alas I Tremble for to declare
my wretched Life, which was as follows, I seemed to be a Woman of a great
Fortune, and forged Deeds of an Estate, and showed it where ever I came,
by which I betrayed twenty three Men, which now is to my great Shame...
All you Spectators be warned by me, for a viler Creature did
never live on the Earth: And now O LORD, receive me, LORD I crave
thy Mercy, do not forsake my Sinful Soul, but save me for a Mediator's sake. AMEN."

Engraving of pirate captain Henry Every's ship Fancy

John Fitz-Gerald (a fellow pirate with a flair for verse), 1723:

"In youthful blooming years was I,
When I that practice took
Of perpetrating piracy
For filthy gain did look.
To wickedness we all were bent,
Our lusts for to fulfil;
To rob at sea was our intent,
And perpetrate all ill.

I pray the Lord preserve you all
And keep you from this end;
O let Fitz-Gerald’s great downfall
Unto your welfare tend.
I to the Lord my soul bequeath,
Accept whereof I pray;
My body to the earth beneath:
Dear friend, adieu for aye."

William Fly, however, had no taste for mawkish poetry, and bucked tradition right from the start. Upon ascending the scaffold, he coolly inspected the noose he would hang from, and then "turned to the hangman in disappointment, and reproached him 'for not understanding his Trade.' But Fly, a sailor who knew the art of tying knots, took mercy on the novice. He offered to teach him how to tie a proper noose. Then Fly, 'with his own Hands [,] rectified Matters, to render all things more Convenient and Effectual,' retying the knot himself as the multitude who had gathered around the gallows looked on in astonishment. He informed the hangman and the crowd that 'he was not afraid to die,' that 'he had wronged no Man.' Mather explained that he was determined to die 'a brave fellow.' "

Then William Fly proceeded in this unconventional vein: He "did not ask for forgiveness, did not praise the authorities, and did not affirm the values of Christianity, as he was supposed to do, but he did issue a warning. Addressing the port-city crowd thick with ship captains and sailors, he proclaimed his final, fondest wish: that 'all Masters of Vessels might take Warning at the Fate of the Captain (meaning Captain Green) whom he had murder'd, and to pay Sailors their Wages when due, and to treat them better; saying, that their Barbarity to them made so many turn Pyrates.' Fly thus used his last breath to protest the conditions of work at sea, what he called 'Bad Usage.'" Quite the way to make a statement!

(This riveting account of William Fly's hanging is borrowed from Marcus Redeker's chronicle Villains of All Nations: Atlantic Pirates in the Golden Age - a thrilling read, and highly recommended.)

If any of my readers are ever so unfortunate as to find themselves upon the scaffold, they may or may not wish to be "launched into eternity with the brash threat of mutiny upon [their] lips" as was the bold pirate Fly; but this account will, I hope, give them the inspiration necessary to come up with a memorable last speech. After all, how can you break the rules without first knowing the rules?

I hope these guidelines will prove useful but not be too often needed, and I remain
Yours etc.

Liv Quicksilver

A Jane Austen Christmas Encroaches on the New Year

 

A Jane Austen Christmas: Celebrating the Season of
Romance, Ribbons, and Mistletoe, by Carlo DeVito

The title of this picturesque little book on Jane Austen gives one an excellent sense of its intellectual niveau. It does, indeed, contain "romance, ribbons and mistletoe," but one has the unromantic sense by the end of the first chapter that this book would have been improved by better editing (as a start). Certainly there is nothing romantic about standardized spelling, but two different spellings of the word juvenilia ("juvenilia" and "juvenalia" [47, 48]) within as many pages does detract from the festive musings of the text. (Using a variant spelling of such an unusual word may pass as acceptable; using two variants looks indecisive.) Mr DeVito's assertions are further discredited by his evident unfamiliarity with Jane Austen's juvenilia; for example, he cites "Memoirs of Mr Clifford" as one of the four "best-known" works in the juvenilia (48), which is patently untrue. (Mr Clifford, the hero of a very short snippet, is most memorable for the slew of equipages he owns: "...he was a very rich young Man and kept a great many Carriages of which I do not recollect half. I can only remember that he had a Coach, a Chariot, a Chaise, a Landeau, a Landeaulet, a Phaeton, a Gig, a Whisky, an italian Chair, a Buggy, a Curricle, and a wheelbarrow.") He also says that the short story "Eliza and Henry" is "very much about [the] earlier flirtations" of the cousin and brother who bore those names (56), which I think is misleading. Although I agree that Jane Austen was likely thinking of her own Henry and Eliza when she chose the title, the story is much more about Eliza's madcap adventures before and after her marriage (for Henry quickly leaves her a merry widow), much in the vein of "Edgar and Emma" and "Jack and Alice," in both of which the heroine and her associates take center stage while the eponymous hero is relegated to obscurity.

Although the popular Regency-era play The Rivals, by Richard Sheridan, is not mentioned by name, Mrs Malaprop of The Rivals has evidently visited these pages, with faux pas including "her supposedly scandalous background proceeded her" (37) rather than preceded, and "the Christmas holiday encroached" (57), which lends a rather sinister sound to the approaching festivities. Jane Austen, I learn with alarm, intends to "altar" her clothes (72), a mistake for alter that conjures up the image of Regency gowns being consigned to sacrificial flames. And at the tragic moment when Tom Lefroy leaves Steventon, I found myself suppressing a untimely giggle at learning that Jane Austen's "hopes had been tuned to ashes" (85).

Mr DeVito shows himself ignorant of basic Regency etiquette, writing that "two dances" are "the maximum you were allowed with the same partner" (73). In reality, Regency country dances were traditionally danced in pairs, and it was impolite to ask the same lady more than twice; thus the maximum number of dances allowed was actually two pairs of dances, four in all. In common politeness a gentleman would dance two dances with many different ladies; he would single out the object of his affections by asking her for the first two dances, and/or asking her twice for two dances each. Notice that Mrs Bennet in Pride and Prejudice speaks of Mr Bingley dancing "the first two [dances]" with Charlotte Lucas (to Mrs Bennet's displeasure), and "the next two [dances]" in successive pairs with the other young ladies at the assembly, asking Jane twice altogether. It's a descriptive quirk that's easy to misunderstand without some background knowledge on Regency ballroom etiquette, but a biographer ought either to have this knowledge or to fake it more convincingly. Mr DeVito also calls Elizabeth Bennet "Ms. Bennet" (76), showing a regrettable modern flippancy toward Regency customs of polite address.

I find it very odd that he does not list Park Honan, an author he quotes frequently (both as "Honan" and as "Honnan" [44, 81] another curious indecisiveness) in his "Selected Bibliography." Park Honan's 1989 biography Jane Austen: Her Life is a perfectly respectable source, and the author ought to be given his due after being quoted from so extensively in multiple chapters -- but perhaps he would prefer to remain anonymous in this context. 

Finally, there are numerous minor errors throughout the text that soon become an irritation for those accustomed to Jane Austen's pithy and polished style. However, with these objections explained, I will say of Mr DeVito's work that I learned several interesting things from it and that parts of it were excellent. As the story about the curate's egg goes: 

Right Reverend Host: "I'm afraid you've got a bad Egg, Mr. Jones!"
The Curate: "Oh no, my Lord, I assure you! Parts of it are excellent!"
(True Humility by George du Maurier; published in Punch, 9 Nov. 1895)

I liked the idea of synchronizing quotes from a variety of different Jane Austen biographers and related sources to pull together a short history of her life; Mr DeVito chose a good variety of biographers and sources to quote from. I thought that interweaving individual Christmases in Jane Austen's life with an explanation of Regency Christmas traditions was an excellent notion, and I enjoyed the charming illustrations and the section on charades and other Regency games. The highlights of the book for me, however, were the extensive passages quoted from Jane Austen herself, especially from her letters. Her genius shines through the clumsiest introductions whenever she is allowed to speak for herself.  

Liv Quicksilver