with the object of reforming the Bloody Code. I knew that Susan’s declaration of love was surely an embellishment – but she made it seem so easy, and yet so very powerful.
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My Account of James Morneau’s death was well-received – but much different than I, or anyone, was used to.
In any Account for the last twelve years, I would have reported that James had gone to sleep, with difficulty, the night before his hanging, heart overflowing with grief – repentance, regret, fear his Saviour would reject him and off to Hell he’d go, no doubt. He woke briefly when the bell at St. Sepulchre’s, next-door, pealed, and the bellman’s dismal voice warned him and his fellow condemned that the Hour’s drawing near, that you before th’Almighty must appear. Heavy of heart, he sank back into sleep, his last. Then a revelation in a dream showed James the way to the Lord: Demonstrate to others the error of his ways, in the earthly time left him. Call loudly for his Saviour’s mercy under the Tyburn tree. Be in his soul all repentance and humility. In the morning, James and the Ordinary rejoiced in James’ potential salvation, and prayed their way to Tyburn.
There are at least twenty ways to write all this, between you and me, and I had written all of them, at least half a dozen times each. I soon realized that I had been embellishing my entire career – my Accounts now would be more faithful to the truth, not less.
In contrast, James Morneau’s published Account said that he indeed felt grief, but following a visit from his family – young wife, three young children, two boys bare of foot, all terrified of losing him, anxious and hopeless.