Dakota Beacon

In the hideous death of some literary figures may be found a semblance of the ghastly, the grisly, and the gruesomeness of Halloween. But, in the modern day, in a weird way, death takes on a carnival atmosphere. Beyond the writings for which some literary figures are known, consider their tragic fate.

Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593) wrote some of the most lyrical poems in the English language including “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.” His Elizabethan dramas comprise “Dr. Faustus” and “The Jew of Malta.” William Vaughan records the death of Marlowe in a piece titled “Golden Grove.”

Marlowe was a professing atheist at a time when more discreet freethinkers dared not mention their heresy. His life took on an even more sinister aspect as an alleged spy against the throne. One evening found him dining in a tavern with an acquaintance named Ingram Frizar. With certainty, Frizar was a member of Queen Elizabeth’s secret service. During the course of the evening an argument erupted over the bill. In a fit of rage Marlowe attacked Frizar with his dagger. In self-defense, Frizar lunged with his own dagger hitting Marlowe in the eye. The blow carried such force that the dagger’s point came out of the back of Marlowe’s head carrying with it his brains. We don’t know whether Frizar’s provocation was intended to set up an assassination of Marlowe. We do know, however, that Frizar was pardoned within a month after killing Marlowe.

Another literary figure, Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1618) lived a varied life as an explorer, courtier, historian, and poet. His writing includes such poems as his response to Marlowe in “The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd” and “The Passionate Man’s Pilgrimage.” In 1618 Raleigh was executed in the Tower of London on charges of treason. As macabre as his execution appeared, even his enemies admit that he met his fate with grace. Isaac Disraeli provides a detailed account in “Curiosities of Literature.”

On the morning of his execution Raleigh took time to smoke a pipe of his favorite tobacco. Later, on the way to the scaffold, he greeted friends along the way extending greetings as well to those on the platform.

Mounting the scaffold he took time to pass his finger lightly over the headsman’s ax. Approving the keenness of the edge, he kissed the blade, implored all spectators to pray for him, and then began reciting a long prayer himself.

Proceeding to the block, Raleigh laid himself down and fitted his neck to the slot. At this point the headsman knelt down and asked Raleigh’s forgiveness for what he was about to do. Raleigh granted forgiveness and, in turn, asked the headsman to wait for his signal, specifically, the lifting of his hand.

Having lain on the block for some time in prayer, Raleigh eventually lifted his hand. Nothing happened. He lifted his hand a second time, then a third time. Annoyed he cried out “Strike, man! Strike!” The reason for the delay is not clear. When the headsman finally made his move, it took two strokes to complete the task.

Best known for “Paradise Lost,” the Reformation poet John Milton (1608-1674) wrote a wide range of both prose and poetry. The story of England’s greatest poet, however, extends far beyond the grave. An account by Philip Neve in “A Narrative of the Disinterment of Milton’s Coffin...August 4, 1779” documents the discovery of Milton’s misplaced remains.

When Milton died in 1674 his coffin was inexplicably mislaid. Its whereabouts remained unknown for over a hundred years. When finally discovered in the Parish Church of St. Giles in Cripplegate, England, it led to a grisly scramble for “souvenirs.”

When caretakers opened the lead-lined coffin Milton’s corpse was found to be relatively well preserved. Two caretakers, men of questionable integrity, allowed chosen relic seekers access to the remains for a fee.

Initially the souvenir hunters knocked out teeth. Ribs and arm bones were the next to go. Finally, locks of his hair were taken. In days to follow a brisk trade in relics developed.

Philip Neve seemed both disgusted and fascinated by the nightmare. Ultimately he purchased as many relics as possible and returned them to the coffin.

Despite our revulsion with the grisly, ghoulish, macabre themes of Halloween, our fascination with horror has deep roots in archetypes from literary history.

Dennis M. Patrick can be contacted at (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).