At ten o’clock on the 15th Monmouth proceeded in a carriage of the lieutenant of the Tower to Tower Hill, the place destined for his execution.  The two bishops were in the carriage with him, and one of them took that opportunity of informing him that their controversial altercations were not yet at an end, and that upon the scaffold he would again be pressed for more explicit and satisfactory declarations of repentance.  When arrived at the bar which had been put up for the purpose of keeping out the multitude, Monmouth descended from the carriage, and mounted the scaffold, with a firm step, attended by his spiritual assistants.  The sheriffs and executioners were already there.  The concourse of spectators was innumerable; and if we are to credit traditional accounts, never was the general compassion more affectingly expressed.  The tears, sighs, and groans, which the first sight of this heartrending spectacle produced, were soon succeeded by a universal and awful silence; a respectful attention and affectionate anxiety to hear every syllable that should pass the lips of the sufferer.  The duke began by saying he should speak little; he came to die, and he should die a Protestant of the Church of England.  Here he was interrupted by the assistants, and told, that if he was of the Church of England, he must acknowledge the doctrine of non-resistance to be true.  In vain did he reply that if he acknowledged the doctrine of the Church in general it included all:  they insisted he should own that doctrine, particularly with respect to his case, and urged much more concerning their favourite point, upon which, however, they obtained nothing but a repetition in substance of former answers.  He was then proceeding to speak of Lady Harriet Wentworth, of his high esteem for her, and of his confirmed opinion that their connection was innocent in the sight of God, when Goslin, the sheriff, asked him, with all the unfeeling bluntness of a vulgar mind, whether he was ever married to her.  The duke refusing to answer, the same magistrate, in the like strain, though changing his subject, said he hoped to have heard of his repentance for the treason and bloodshed which had been committed; to which the prisoner replied, with great mildness, that he died very penitent.  Here the Churchmen again interposed, and renewing their demand of particular penitence and public acknowledgment upon public affairs, Monmouth referred them to the following paper, which he had signed that morning: 

“I declare that the title of king was forced upon me, and that it was very much contrary to my opinion when I was proclaimed.  For the satisfaction of the world, I do declare that the late king told me he was never married to my mother.  Having declared this, I hope the king who is now will not let my children suffer on this account.  And to this I put my hand this fifteenth day of July, 1685.

“Monmouth.”