Sir Walter eat his breakfast that morning, smoaked his pipe, and made no more of death, than if he had been to take a journey.  On the scaffold he conversed freely with the Earl of Arundel and others of the nobility, and vindicated himself from two suspicions; the first, of entering into a confederacy with France; the second, of speaking disloyally of his Majesty.  He cleared himself likewise of the suspicion of having persecuted the Earl of Essex, or of insulting him at his death.  He concluded with desiring the good people to join with him in prayer, to that great God of Heaven, “whom (says he) I have grievously offended, being a man full of vanity, who has lived a sinful life, in such callings as have been most inducing to it:  For I have been a soldier, a sailor, and a courtier; which are courses of wickedness and vice.”  The proclamation being made that all men should depart the scaffold, he prepared himself for death, gave away his hat and cap, and money to some attendants that stood near him.  When he took leave of the lords, and other gentlemen that stood near him, he entreated the Lord Arundel to prevail with the King that no scandalous writings to defame him, should be published after his death; concluding, “I have a long journey to go, and therefore will take my leave.”  Then having put off his gown and doublet, he called to the executioner to shew him the axe, which not being presently done; he said, “I pray thee let me see it; don’t thou think I am afraid of it;” and having it in his hands he felt along the edge of it, and smiling, said to the sheriff; “This is a sharp medicine, but it is a physician for all diseases.”  The executioner kneeling down and asking him forgiveness, Sir Walter laying his hand upon his shoulder granted it; and being asked which way he would lay himself on the block, he answered, “So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lies.”  His head was struck off at two blows, his body never shrinking nor moving.  His head was shewn on each side of the scaffold, and then put into a red leather bag, and with his velvet night-gown thrown over, was afterwards conveyed away in a mourning coach of his lady’s.  His body was interred in the chancel of St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster, but his head was long preserved in a case by his widow, who survived him twenty-years.

Thus fell Sir Walter Raleigh in the 66th year of his age, a sacrifice to a contemptible administration, and the resentment of a mean prince:  A man of so great abilities, that neither that nor the preceding reign produced his equal.  His character was a combination of almost every eminent quality; he was the soldier, statesmen, and scholar united, and had he lived with the heroes of antiquity, he would have made a just parallel to Caesar, and Xenophon, like them being equal master of the sword and the pen.  One circumstance must not be omitted, which in a life so full of action as his, is somewhat extraordinary, viz. that whether he was on board his ships upon