For sure this is the Hand of Heaven Suffers me this Death to die, For to finish my intention, I could not expect; for why, Because for men so bold attempting, Many here before did die; But still I could not be at Quiet, By which I have wrought my Destiny. I hope my fall will be a warning, To all that see my fatal End, My dearest Friends they do me blame, That I the Nation should offend. My tender Wife does lie lamenting, My Children are ready to despair, I hope that this will be a warning, To all that see the fall of _Layer_. When my Body it is Quarter’d, And my Head expos’d on high, I hope my fleeting Soul will dwell With Christ for evermore on high. Farewel my dearest Wife and Children, To Heaven I you recommend, Weep not for me unhappy Creature, Think not on my fatal End.[7] [Sidenote: _BOLINGBROKE: ATTERBURY._] The ballad was yet being said or sung in London, when on June 1st the metropolis was startled with the news that the ‘late Lord Bolingbroke,’ as the attainted Jacobite peer was called by the Whigs, was about to be pardoned. ‘_About!_’ shouted a Jacobite paper, in its loudest type, ‘the pardon has already passed the seal.’ But this shout was one of indignation, for the papers of all hues seem to have agreed that my Lord Bolingbroke’s pardon was the consequence of services to King George and the existing Government, with reference to the plot for upsetting both by establishing the Pretender and a Stuart ministry in their place. Another incident occupied the public mind, namely, the sale of Atterbury’s goods and chattels. Political partisans and votaries of fashion repaired to the episcopal palace at Bromley, and to the deanery at Westminster, as to shrines where both could indulge in their respective sentiments. At the two sales about 5,000_l._ were realised. ‘There was a remarkable fondness,’ says the ‘London Journal,’ sneeringly, ‘_in some sort of people_, to buy these goods almost at any rate; but whether from a motive of superstition or party zeal we know not; but many think both.’ It is true that numerous articles fetched four times their value; and the Jacobite journals, as well as the better natured of the opposite faction, acknowledged that the purchasers naturally desired to have some remembrance of their fallen friend. [Sidenote: _ATTERBURY LEAVING THE TOWER._] Jacobitism ventured to look up in public, before the bishop went into exile. On the 10th of June, numbers of persons appeared in the streets wearing white roses. It was like displaying a flag of defiance against the Government. Whigs who were really loyal to ‘great Brunswick,’ and who dearly loved a fight, fell upon the white rose wearers, and many a head was broken in expiation of the offence.