holder, might read it; so also might noble and gentle-women, but no persons under those degrees.

The King's marriage with Katharine Parr, widow of Lord Latimer, did not stop the persecution. But it was known that she favoured the Reformation, and Gardiner therefore regarded her as a person who was, if possible, to be removed. The common saying was, that he had bent his bow to shoot at some of the head deer, . . . meaning the Queen and Cranmer. Henry was now more easy to be worked on to such wicked purposes; the indulgence of cruelty and tyranny rendered him more cruel and tyrannical as he grew older. But as it would have been dangerous to begin abruptly with these personages, an attempt was made to involve the Queen in a charge of heresy upon the fatal point of the corporal presence; and, upon that charge, Anne Askew, a lady who was admired at Court for her acquirements, and talents, and beauty, and who was greatly in the Queen's favour, was selected as a victim, in the hope that she might also be made an accuser.

The father of this lady, Sir William Askew, of Kelsay in Lincolnshire, had contracted his eldest daughter to a rich heir, Kyme by name, in the same county. She died before the marriage was completed, and Sir William, unwilling to let slip an alliance which he deemed highly advantageous, compelled her sister Anne to marry him, strongly against her will. Some few years afterwards, her husband turned her out of doors, because by a diligent perusal of the Scriptures she had become a Protestant: upon which, she sought for a divorce, would on no conditions return to him again, and resumed her maiden name. A Papist, who laid in wait for her life, and watched her for that purpose, when he bore testimony against her, deposed that she was the devoutest woman he had ever known; for she began to pray always at midnight, and continued for some hours in that exercise. As long as it was possible, she evaded, with a woman's wit, the insnaring questions which were proposed to her. One charge was, how she had said it was written in the Scriptures that God was not in temples made with hands: upon this she referred to the words of St. Stephen and St. Paul; and being asked, how she explained these words, replied, with some scorn, that she would not throw pearls before swine, . acorns were

...

good enough. The Lord Mayor, Sir Martin Bower, demanded of her, if she had said that priests could not make the body of Christ; "I have read," she replied, " that God made man; but that man can make God, I never yet read, nor, I suppose, ever shall." "Thou foolish woman," said the Lord Mayor, "is it not the Lord's body, after the words of consecration?" She answered, that it was then consecrated or sacramental bread: and he said to her, "If a mouse eat the bread, after the consecration, what shall become of the mouse; what sayest thou, foolish woman?" She desired to know what he said to it himself? and upon his affirming that the mouse was damned, could not refrain from smiling, and saying, "Alack, poor mouse!" A priest, who was sent to examine her in private, asked, in the same spirit, whether or not, if the host fell, and a beast ate it, the beast received his Maker? She told him, as he had thought proper to ask the question, he might solve it himself; she would not, because he was come to tempt her. Bonner sought to inveigle her, and urged her boldly to disclose the secrets of her heart, promising that no hurt should be done to her for any thing which she might say under his roof. She replied, that she had nothing to disclose; for, thanks to God, her conscience had nothing to burthen it. He observed, that no wise chirurgeon could minister help to a wound, before he had seen it uncovered. To this unsavoury similitude," as she termed it, Anne Askew replied, that her conscience was clear, and it would be much folly to lay a plaster to the whole skin. When he pressed her closely upon the fatal point, her answer was, that she believed as the Scripture taught her.

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For this time she was admitted to bail; but this was but the prelude to a dreadful tragedy. Being again apprehended, and brought before the Council, she seems to have perceived that her fate was determined, and to have acted with a temper ready for the worst. When Gardiner called her a parrot, she told him she was ready to suffer, not only his rebukes, but all that should follow, . . . yea, and gladly. He threatened her with burning. "I have searched all the Scriptures," she replied, "yet could I never find that either Christ or his Apostles put any creature to death." Upon a subsequent examination, at Guildhall, she answered openly to the deadly question, saying, that what they

called their God was a piece of bread. "For proof thereof," said she, "make it when you list, let it but lie in the box three months, and it will be mouldy, and so turn to nothing that is good; wherefore I am persuaded that it cannot be God." They then condemned her to the flames. She wrote to the King, and to the Chancellor Wriothesley, requesting him to present her paper, by which, she said, if it were truly conferred with the hard judgement passed upon her, his Grace would perceive that she had been weighed in uneven balances. The paper to the King contained these words: "I, Anne Askew, of good memory, although God hath given me the bread of adversity and the water of trouble, yet not so much as my sins have deserved, desire this to be known unto your Grace, that forasmuch as I am by the law condemned for an evil-doer, here I take Heaven and earth to record, that I shall die in my innocency. And according to that I have said first, and will say last, I utterly abhor and detest all heresies. And, as concerning the Supper of the Lord, I believe so much as Christ hath said therein, which he confirmed with his most blessed blood. I believe so much as he willed me to follow, and so much as the Catholic Church of him doth teach for I will not forsake the commandment of his holy lips. But look, what God hath charged me with his mouth, that have I shut up in my heart. And thus briefly I end for lack of learning."

Henry's heart was naturally hard, and the age and the circumstances in which he was placed had steeled it against all compassion. Some displeasure, indeed, he manifested shortly afterwards, when the Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Anthony Knevet, came to solicit pardon for having disobeyed the Chancellor, by refusing to let his gaoler stretch this lady on the rack a second time, after she had endured it once, without accusing any person of partaking her opinions. It was concerning the Ladies of the Court that she was thus put to the torture, in the hope of implicating the Queen; and when Knevet would do no more, the Chancellor Wriothesley, and Rich, who was a creature of Bonner's, racked her with their own hands, throwing off their gowns that they might perform their devilish office the better. She bore it without uttering cry or groan, though immediately upon being loosed, she fainted. Henry readily forgave the Lieutenant,

and appeared ill pleased with his Chancellor : ... but he suffered his wicked ministers to consummate their crime. A scaffold was erected in front of St. Bartholomew's church, where Wriothesley, the Duke of Norfolk, and others of the King's Council, sate with the Lord Mayor, to witness the execution. Three others were to suffer with her for the same imagined offence; one was a tailor, another a priest, and the third a Nottinghamshire gentleman of the Lascelles family, and of the King's household. The execution was delayed till darkness closed, that it might appear the more dreadful. Anne Askew was brought in a chair, for they had racked her till she was unable to stand, and she was held up against the stake by the chain which fastened her; but her constancy and cheerful language of encouragement, wrought her companions in martyrdom to the same invincible fortitude and triumphant hope. After a sermon had been preached, the King's pardon was offered to her, if she would recant; refusing even to look upon it, she made answer, that she came not there to deny her Lord! The others, in like manner, refused to purchase their lives at such a price. The reeds were then set on fire: . . . it was in the month of June; ... and at that moment a few drops of rain fell, and a thunder clap was heard, which those in the crowd, who sympathized with the martyrs, felt, as if it were God's own voice, accepting their sacrifice, and receiving their spirits into his everlasting rest.

Though the Popish party could not extort any thing against the Queen in the course of their proceedings, they made it matter of accusation against her that Anne Askew had been her friend; and if she had not been apprized of her danger by a friendly intimation in good time, and with singular dexterity known how to avert it, she might probably have fallen a victim. Some remaining tenderness towards her in the King enabled her to recover her influence over him; and perhaps he felt in some degree dependent upon her, when his infirmities were now pressing upon him heavier than his age. The Romanists were not more successful in their attempt at the destruction of Cranmer. They represented to the King, that the Primate and his learned men had so infected the whole realm with his unsound doctrine, that three parts of the nation were become abominable heretics, and England, in consequence, stood in dan

ger of being convulsed by such commotions as had sprung up, from the same cause, in Germany. They desired, therefore, that he might be committed to the Tower, for, being of the Privy Council, unless he were in durance, no man would dare give evidence against him; but when he should be under arrest, they would be bold to tell the truth, and quiet their consciences. Henry objected to this course; at length, as if convinced by their representations, he gave them permission to summon the Archbishop before them on the morrow, and commit him, if they found cause.

Such however was his inward conviction of Cranmer's worth, that he, who, without remorse, had sent two wives to the scaffold, could not sleep upon this resolution; but a little before midnight, sent privately to Lambeth, and called him from his bed. The Archbishop immediately obeyed this untimely summons and hastened to Whitehall, where Henry told him what the Council had advised concerning him, and that he had granted their request; "but whether I have done well or no," he added, "what say you, my Lord?" Cranmer thanked him for giving him this warning before-hand, and said he was well content to be committed to the Tower for the trial of his doctrine, so he might be fairly heard, and not doubting that his Majesty would see him so to be used. Upon this, the King exclaimed, "O Lord God, what fond simplicity have you, so to permit yourself to be imprisoned that every enemy may have you at advantage! Do not you know, that when they have you once in prison, three or four false knaves will soon be procured to witness against you, and condemn you, which else dare not open their lips, or appear before your face? No! not so, my Lord, I have better regard unto you, than to permit your enemies so to overthrow you!" It is less to Henry's honour, that in this instance he should have interfered to protect a faithful servant, than it is to his reproach, that understanding thus perfectly the villany of such proceedings, he should have availed himself of it in some cases, and permitted it in so many others. He then told the Archbishop, that when he appeared before the Council, he should require of them, as being one of their body, the same favour which they would have themselves, that is, to have his accusers brought before him. If they

1 Strype's Cranmer, p. 125.

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