Martyrdom of Anne Askew.

advertisement
(from Foxe's Book of Martyrs, 1889 edition)
Martyrdom of Anne Askew.
ANNE ASKEW was descended from a good family, and had received accomplished education; and the reader will best form his judgement of her by what
follows of her trial and conduct under it. Her first examination was in the year of
our Lord 1545, in the month of March. Christopher Dare examined her at Sadler’s Hall, being one of the quest and asked, if she did not believe that the sacrament hanging over the altar was the very body of Christ really. Then she demanded this question of him, Wherefore was St. Stephen stoned to death? and he
said, he could not tell. Then she answered that no more would she answer his
vain question. Then he said, that there was a woman, who did testify that Anne
Askew should read, how God was not in temples made with hands. On this she
shewed him the seventh and seventeenth chapters of the Acts of the Apostles,
what Stephen and Paul had said therein. Whereupon he asked her how she took
those sentences? She answered, “I would not throw pearls amongst swine, for
acorns were good enough.”
He proceeded to ask her why she said—“I had rather read five lines in the Bible, than hear five masses in the temple.” She confessed she said so, not for the
dispraise of either the epistle or the gospel, but because the one greatly edified
her, and the other nothing at all. As St. Paul doth witness in the fourteenth chapter of his first epistle to the Corinthians, wherein he saith, “If the trumpet giveth
an uncertain sound, who will prepare himself to the battle?” On this she was accused of saying, that if an ill priest ministered, it was the devil and not God. To
which her answer was a denial of both the words and the sentiment. Instead of
which she only said, “Whoever ministered unto me, his ill conditions could not
hurt my faith, but in spirit I received nevertheless the body and blood of Christ.”
He then asked her what she said concerning confession. She answered, “My
meaning was as St. James saith, that every man ought to acknowledge his faults to
others, and the one to pray for the other.”
Enquiry was made what she said to the king’s book; and she answered him
that she could say nothing to it, because she never saw it. A priest was then sent
for to examine her, and when he came to her he asked several questions; but the
principal one was what she said to the sacrament of the altar, and required much
to know her meaning therein. But she desired him again to hold her excused
concerning that matter: no other answer would she make him, because she perceived him to be a papist. On her silence he asked her if she did not think that
private masses helped the departed souls; she said, it was great idolatry to believe
more in them, than in the death which Christ died for us.
They then brought her unto the lord mayor, and he examined her as they had
before, and she answered him directly in all things in a lively manner, on which
the bishop’s chancellor rebuked her, and said that she was much to blame for uttering the scriptures. St. Paul, he said, forbade women to speak or to talk of the
word of God. She answered him that she knew Paul’s meaning as well as he,
which was that a woman ought not to speak in the congregation by the way of
teaching: and then she asked him how many women he had seen go into the pulpit
and preach? He said he never saw any. Then said she you ought to find no fault
with poor women, except they had offended the law. Then the lord mayor was
for committing her to prison, when she asked him if sureties would not serve: he
made her short answer, that he would take none. Then was she forced to the
counter, where she remained eleven days, no friend being admitted to speak with
her. In the mean time there was a priest sent unto her, who said that he was
commanded by the bishop to examine her, and to give her good counsel, which he
did not. But first he asked her, for what cause she was put in the counter, and she
told him she could not tell. Then he said, it was great pity that she should be
there without cause, and concluded that he was very sorry for her; charging her
with denying the sacrament of the altar: which she answered indifferently, observing that what she had said she had said.
The priest then asked her if she were content to be shriven. She told him, so
that she might have one of these three, that is to say, Dr. Crome, Sir Guillam, or
Huntington, she was contented, because she knew them to be men of wisdom.
“As for you, or any other,” she said, “I will not dispraise, because I know you
not.” The priest answered, “Think not but that I, or any other who may be
brought you, shall be as honest as they: for if we were not, you may be sure the
king would not suffer us to preach.” Then she answered with the saying of Solomon, “By communing with the wise I may learn wisdom, but by talking with a
fool I shall take scathe.” Confounded by her wit, the priest changed his course,
and asked, If the host should fall, and a beast did eat it, whether the beast did receive God or no? She answered, “Seeing that you have taken the pains to ask the
question, I desire you also to assoil it yourself: for I will not do it, because I perceive you come to tempt me.” He said it was against the order of schools, that he
who asked the question should answer it: when she told him she was but a woman, and knew not the course of schools.
Then he asked her if she intended to receive the sacrament at Easter or no?
She answered, that else she was no Christian woman; and she rejoiced that the
time was so near at hand. He then departed with many fair words. On the 23rd
of March, her cousin came unto her, and asked her whether she might be put to
bail. Then went he immediately to the lord mayor, desiring him to be so good to
her, that she might be bailed. My lord answered him, that he would be glad to do
the best, but he could not bail her without the consent of a spiritual officer; requiring him to go and speak to the chancellor of London. For as he could not
commit her to prison without the consent of a spiritual officer, no more could he
bail her without the consent of the same.
Upon that he went to the chancellor, requiring of him, as he did before of my
lord mayor. The chancellor answered, that the matter was so heinous, he durst
not of himself do it, without my lord of London was made privy thereto. But
said he would speak to my lord of it, and bade him repair to him the next morning, and he should know his pleasure. Accordingly upon the day after he came
thither, and spoke to both the chancellor and bishop of London. The bishop de-
2
clared that he was well contented that she should come forth to communication,
and appointed her to appear before him the next day, at three o’clock in the afternoon. Moreover he said, that he wished there should be, at the examination, such
learned men as she was affectioned to, that they might see, and also make report,
that she was handled with no rigour. He answered him, that be knew no man
whom she had more affection to than another. Then said the bishop, “Yes, as I
understand, she prefers Dr. Crome, Sir Guillam Whitehead, and Huntington, that
they might hear the matter, for she did know them to be learned and of a godly
judgment.” Also he required her cousin Britain, that he should earnestly persuade her to utter even the very bottom of her heart; and he swore by his fidelity,
that no man should take any advantage of her words, neither yet would he lay any
thing to her charge for any thing that she should there speak; but if she said any
thing amiss, he, with others, would be glad to reform her therein with godly
counsel.
Next day in the forenoon, the bishop of London sent for her, and as she came
before him, he said he was sorry for her trouble, and desired to know her opinions
in such matters as were laid against her. He required her also in any wise boldly
to utter the secrets of her heart, bidding her not to fear in any points, for whatever
she said in his house, no man should hurt her for it; She answered—“As your
lordship has appointed three o’clock; and my friends will not come till that hour, I
desire you to pardon my giving answers till they arrive.” Then he said that he
thought it meet to send for those who were before named and appointed. She
desired him not to put them to the trouble? because the two gentlemen who were
her friends, were able enough to testify what she should say. Afterwards he went
into his gallery with Mr. Spilman, and told him in any wise that he should exhort
her to utter all she thought. And in the meanwhile he commanded his arch deacon to commune with her, who said, “Mistress, wherefore are you accused and
thus troubled here before the bishop?” She answered, “Sir, ask my accusers, for I
know not as yet.” Then he took her hand, and pointing to the bible, said, “Such
book as this has brought you to the trouble you are now in. Beware, beware, for
he that made this book, and was the author thereof, was a heretic and burned in
Smithfield.” She asked him if he was certain and sure that it was true what he
had spoken. He said he knew well that the book was of John Frith’s making.
She asked him if he was not ashamed to judge of the book before he saw it within,
or yet knew the truth thereof; and said also, that such unadvised hasty judgment is
a token apparent of a very slender wit. Then she opened the book and shewed it
him. He said he thought it had been another, for he could find no fault therein.
Then she desired him no more to be so unadvisedly rash and swift in judgment,
till he thoroughly knew the truth, and so he departed from her.
Immediately after came her cousin Britain, with divers others, among whom
was a Mr Hall of Gray’s Inn. Then my lord of London persuaded her cousin, as
he had done oft before, that she should utter the very bottom of her heart in any
wise. My lord said after that unto her that he would she should credit the counsel
of such as were her friends and well-wishers in this behalf, which was that she
should utter all things that burthened her conscience; for he assured her that she
should not need to stand in doubt. For as he promised them, he promised her,
3
and would perform it; namely, that neither he, nor any man for him, should take
her at advantage of any word, and therefore he bade her speak her mind without
fear. She answered him, that she had nought to say, for her conscience was burdened with nothing. Then the bishop, Bonner, began to use similitudes, and his
first, especially to a delicate female, was not a very savoury similitude: “ If a man
had a wound, no wise surgeon would minister help unto it before he had seen it
uncovered. In the same manner can I give you no good counsel, unless I know
wherewith your conscience is burthened.” “My conscience,” she said, “is clear
in all things, and to lay a plaister unto a whole skin would appear much folly.”
Bonner exclaimed—“Then you drive me to lay to your charge your own report,
which is this: You did say, he that doth receive the sacrament by the hands of an
ill priest, or a sinner, receiveth the devil, and not God.” She answered, “I never
spake such words; but, as I said before, that the wickedness of the priest did not
hurt me, but in spirit and faith I received no less than the body and blood of
Christ.” “What saying is this, in spirit!“ demanded he, “I will not take you at the
advantage.” Then she answered, “My lord, without faith and spirit, I cannot receive him worthily.”
He said she had affirmed, that “the sacrament remaining in the pix was not
bread.” She answered, she had never said so; but indeed the quest had asked the
question, whereunto she would not reply till they had answered her question,
“Wherefore Stephen was stoned to death!” The bishop evidently remembered
this, and changing his tone, said, that she had alleged a certain text of the scripture. She answered, “I alleged none other but St. Paul’s own saying to the Athenians, in the 17th chapter of the Acts, that God dwelleth not in temples made with
hands.” Then he inquired what her faith and belief was in that matter! She answered him, “I believe as the scripture doth teach me.” On this he inquired,
“What if the scripture doth say that it is the body of Christ!” “ I believe,” she
said, “ as the scripture doth teach.” Then he asked again, “What if the scripture
doth say that it is not the body of Christ!” Her answer was still, “I believe as the
scripture informeth me.” On this argument he tarried a great while, to have
driven her to make him an answer to his mind. Howbeit she would not, but concluded this with him, “I believe therein, and in all other things, as Christ and his
apostles did leave them.”
The bishop, displeased that she said so little, sharply asked, “Why she had so
few words?” when she answered, “God hath given me the gift of knowledge, but
not of utterance; and Solomon saith, ‘That a woman of few words is the gift of
God,’” Then he laid to her charge, that she had said that the mass was superstitious, wicked, and no better than idolatry. She answered him that she had not
said so: adding, “The quest asked me whether private mass did relieve departed
souls or no? Unto whom I answered—O Lord, what idolatry is this, that we
should rather believe in private masses than in the death of the dear Son of God!”
Then said the bishop again, “What an answer is that!” “Though it be but mean;”
she said, “yet is it good enough for the question. And there was a priest who did
hear what I said there, before my lord mayor and them.” The chancellor then
asked the priest, who said she spake it in very deed, before the lord mayor and
himself.
4
There were certain priests, as Dr. Standish and others, who tempted her so
much to know her mind. She answered them always thus, “What I have said to
my lord of London, I have said.” Then Dr. Standout desired the bishop to bid her
speak her mind concerning the text of St. Paul’s learning, probably to betray her,
that she being a woman should interpret the scriptures in the presence of so many
wise and learned men. The bishop then quickly said, “I am informed that one has
asked you if you would receive the sacrament at Easter, and you made a mock of
it.” To this she boldly yet calmly and meekly replied, “I desire that my accuser
might come forth”—which he would not allow. But he said again unto her, “I
sent one to give you good counsel, and at the first word you called him Papist.”
“I deny not that,” she said, “for I perceived he was no less, and I made him no
other reply.”
Then he rebuked her, and said that she had reported there were sent against
her threescore priests at Lincoln. “Indeed,” she answered, “I said so; for my
friends told me, if I did come to Lincoln, the priests would assault me, and put me
to great trouble, as thereof they had made their boast; and when I heard it I went
thither not being afraid, because I knew my matter to be good. Moreover I remained there nine days, to see what would be said to me; and as I was in the Minster, reading the Bible, they resorted unto me by two and two, and by greater
numbers, minding to have spoken unto me, yet went they their ways again without speaking.” The bishop asked if there were not one who had spoken to her?
She answered, “Yes, there was one of them at the last which did speak indeed, but
his words were of small effect, so that I do not now remember them.” Then said
the bishop, “There are many that read and know the scripture, and yet follow it
not, nor live thereafter.” She said again, “My lord, I would wish that all men
knew my conversation and living in all points; for I am sure myself this hour that
there are none able to prove any dishonesty against me. If you know that any can
do it, I pray you bring them forth.” Then the bishop went away, and said he
would put some of her meaning in writing; but what it was she was uncertain, for
he would not suffer her to have the copy thereof.
A small part of it ran thus:—“Be it known of all men, that I, Anne Askew, do
confess this to be my faith and belief, notwithstanding many reports made afore to
the contrary. I believe that they which are houseled at the hands of a priest,
whether his conversation be good or not, do receive the body and blood of Christ
in substance really. Also I do believe, that after the consecration, whether it be
received or reserved, it is no less than the very body and blood of Christ in substance. Finally, I do believe in this and in all other sacraments of holy church in
all points, according to the catholic faith of the same. In witness whereof, I the
said Anne have subscribed my name.” It is evident that all this was palmed on
Mrs. Askew by the treacherous bishop; and there was somewhat more in it, which
because she had not the copy, she could not remember. He read it to her, and
asked if she did not agree to it? To which she said, “I believe so much thereof, as
the holy scripture doth agree unto; wherefore I desire you that you will add that
thereunto.” To this he said, that she should not teach him what he should write;
and with that he went forth into his great chamber and read the same bill before
the audience, which inveigled and willed her to set to her hand, saying also, that
5
she had been favoured, and that she might thank others, and not herself for the
favour she found at his hand; for he considered that she had good friends, and that
she came of a good family. Never sure did a bishop shew favour to a lady with
so ill a grace.
Christopher, a servant to Mr. Denny, said to his lordship, “Rather ought you,
my lord, to have done it in such case for God’s sake, than for man’s.” Then my
lord sat down, and took her the writing to set thereto her hand, and she wrote after
this manner:—“I Anne Askew do believe all manner of things contained in the
faith of the catholic church.” Because of the latter words he flung the paper into
his chamber in great fury. With that her cousin Britain followed, desiring him
for God’s sake to be a good bishop to her. He answered, that she was a woman,
and that he was nothing deceived in her. Then her cousin Britain desired him to
treat her as a woman, and not to set a weak woman’s wit to his lordship’s great
wisdom.
There went in unto him Dr. Weston, and said, “The cause why she did write
there the catholic church, was, that she understood not the church written afore.”
So with much ado they persuaded the bishop to come out again, and take her
name, with the names of the sureties, which were her cousin Britain and master
Spilman of Gray’s Inn. This being done, it was thought that she should have
been put to bail immediately, according to the order of the law. Howbeit he
would not suffer it, but committed her from thence to prison again until the morrow, and then he willed her to appear in the Guildhall, which she did. Notwithstanding they would not put her to bail there, but read the bishop’s writing unto
her as before, and commanded her again to prison. Then were her sureties appointed to come on the morrow in Paul’s church, who did so. They would once
again have broken off with them, because they would not be bound also for another woman, whom they knew not, nor yet what matter was laid unto her charge.
Notwithstanding at the last, after much ado and reasoning to and fro, they took a
bond of them of recognizance for her forth coming: and thus she was at the last
delivered. Thus ends her first persecution, from which, for a time, she escaped;
but not conforming to the erroneous doctrine of the sacrament, she was in 1546,
again apprehended. The following account of her examination before the council
at Greenwich is taken, like the previous one, from her own papers: only this, for
its peculiarity, is retained in her own words.
“Your request as concerning my prison-fellows I am not able to satisfy, because I heard not their examinations. But the effect of mine was this. I being
before the council, was asked of Mr. Kyme. I answered, that my lord chancellor
knew already my mind in that matter. They with that answer were not contented,
but said it was the king’s pleasure that I should open the matter unto them. I
answered then plainly, I would not do so; but if it were the king’s pleasure to hear
me, I would shew him the truth. Then they said it was not meet for the king to be
troubled with me. I answered, that Solomon was reckoned the wisest king that
ever lived, yet misliked he not to hear two poor common women; much more his
grace a simple woman and his faithful subject. So in conclusion, I made them
none other answer in that matter. Then my lord chancellor asked of me my
opinion in the sacrament. My answer was this, I believe that so oft as I in a
6
Christian congregation do receive the bread in remembrance of Christ’s death,
and with thanksgiving, according to his holy institution, I receive there with the
fruits also of his most glorious passion. The bishop of Winchester bade me make
a direct answer: I said I would not sing the song of the Lord in a strange land.
Then the bishop said I spake in parables. I answered, it was best for him, for if I
shewed the open truth they would not accept it. Then he said I was a parrot.* I
told him again I was ready to suffer all things at his hands, not only his rebukes,
but all that should follow besides, yea, and all that gladly. Then had I divers rebukes of the council, because I would not express my mind in. all things as they
would have me. But they were not in the mean time unanswered for all that,
which now to rehearse were too much, for I was with them about five hours.
Then the clerk of the council conveyed me from thence to my lady Garnish.
The next day I was brought again before the council, which would needs
know what I said to the sacrament. I answered that I had already said what I
could say. After many words they bid me go aside. Then came lord Lisle, lord
Essex, and the bishop of Winchester, requiring me earnestly that I should confess
the sacrament to be flesh, blood, and bone. I told these noblemen that it was a
great shame for them to counsel contrary to their knowledge; whereunto in a few
words they said, that they would gladly all things were well. The bishop said he
would speak with me familiarly. I said, “So did Judas, when he betrayed Christ.”
Then he desired to speak with me alone; but that I refused. He asked me why. I
said, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every matter should stand, after
Christ’s and Paul’s doctrine.
Then my lord chancellor began to examine me again on the sacrament. I
asked him, How long he would halt on both. He asked where I found that. I
said, in the scripture. Then he went his way. The bishop said I should be burnt.
I answered, That I had searched all the scriptures, yet could I never find that either
Christ or his apostles put any creature to death. “ Well, well,” said I, “God will
laugh your threatenings to scorn.” Then was I commanded to stand aside; after
which came Dr. Cox and Dr. Robinson to me; but in conclusion we could not
agree. After striving to convince me they drew out a confession respecting the
sacrament, urging me to set my hand thereunto; but this I refused. On the following Sunday I was so extremely ill, that I thought death was upon me; upon
which I desired to see Mr. Latimer, but this was not granted. In the height of my
illness I was conveyed to Newgate, where the Lord was pleased to renew my
strength.
On my being brought to trial at Guildhall they said to me there that I was a
heretic, and condemned by the law, if I would stand in mine opinion. I answered,
That I was no heretic, neither yet deserved I any death by the law of God. But as
concerning the faith which I uttered and wrote to the council, I would not deny it,
because I knew it true. Then would they needs know if I would deny the sacrament to be Christ’s body and blood? I said, “Yea; for the same Son of God, who
was born of the Virgin Mary, is now glorious in heaven, and will come again
from thence at the latter day. And as for that ye call your God, it is a piece of
bread. For more proof thereof, mark it when you list, if it lie in the box three
months, it will be mouldy, and so turn to nothing that is good. Whereupon I am
7
persuaded that it cannot be God.”
After that they willed me to have a priest; at which I smiled. Then they asked
me if it were not good? I said, I would confess my faults unto God, for I was
sure that he would hear me with favour. And so I was condemned. And this
was the ground of my sentence:—My belief, which I wrote to the council that the
sacramental bread was left us to be received with thanksgiving, in remembrance
of Christ’s death, the only remedy of our soul’s recovery; and that thereby we also
receive the whole benefits and fruits of his most glorious passion. Then would
they know whether the bread in the box were God or no: I said God is a spirit,
and will be worshipped in spirit and truth. Then they demanded, Will you
plainly deny Christ to be in the sacrament? I answered, that I believe faithfully
the eternal Son of God not to dwell there; in witness whereof I recited again the
history of Bel, Dan. xix., Acts vii. and xvii., and Matt. xxiv., concluding thus:
“I neither wish death, nor yet fear his might: God have the praise thereof with
thanks.”
After this Mrs. Askew addressed a letter to the king, and sent it by the hands
of the chancellor. It ran thus:—“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
believe 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 I have shut up in my heart. And thus briefly I end for lack of learning.”
This pious and gifted lady was, notwithstanding, still deemed a heretic, and
doomed to undergo farther suffering. In a few days she was sent from Newgate
to the sign of the Crown, where Mr. Rich, and the bishop of London, with all their
power and flattering words, went about to persuade her from God; but she did not
esteem their glossing pretences. After them either came or was sent one Nicholas Shaxton, who counselled her to recant as others had done. She said to him,
“It had been good for you never to have been born;” with many other like words,
chiefly from Scripture. She was then seat to the Tower, where she remained till
three o’clock, when Rich came and one of the council, charging her upon her
obedience to show unto them if she knew any man or woman of her sect. Her
answer was, “I know none.” Then they asked her of lady Suffolk, lady Sussex,
lady Hertford, lady Denny, and lady Fitzwilliam. Of whom she answered, “If I
should pronounce any thing against them, that I were not able to prove it.” Then
said they unto her, “The king is informed that you could name, if you would, a
great number of your sect.” She answered, That the king was as well deceived in
that behalf, as he was dissembled with by them in other matters.
Then they commanded her to shew how she was maintained in the prison, and
who willed her to stick to her opinion. She answered that there was no creature
8
that therein did strengthen her. And as for the help that she had in the Compter,
it was by the means of her maid. For as she went abroad in the streets, she told
her case to the apprentices, and they by her did send her money, but who they
were she never knew. On this they said, That there were several ladies that had
sent her money. She answered, That there was a man who delivered her ten shillings, and said that my lady of Hertford sent it her; and another gave her eight
shillings, and said my lady Denny sent it her. Whether it were true or no she
could not tell, for she was not sure who sent it her, but as the maid did say. Then
they said, “There are some of the council who maintain you,” which she strictly
denied.
Then did they put her on the rack, because she confessed no ladies or gentlewomen to be of her opinion, and thereon they kept her a long time, and because
she lay still and did not cry, the lord chancellor and Mr. Rich took pains to rack
her with their own hands till she was nigh dead—an instance of unusual cruelty
even for that age. The lieutenant then caused her to be loosed from the rack,
when she immediately swooned, and then recovered again. After that she sat two
hours reasoning with the lord chancellor upon the bare floor, where he with many
flattering words persuaded her to leave her opinion; but her Lord God, thanks to
his everlasting goodness gave her grace to persevere. Then she was brought to a
house, and laid on a bed, with as weary and painful bones as ever had patient Job,
yet expressing her thanks to God. Then the lord chancellor sent her word, if she
would leave her opinion she should want for nothing; if she would not, she should
forthwith to Newgate, and so be burned. She sent him again word, that she
would rather die than break her faith—praying that God would open his eyes, that
the truth might take place.
Touching the order of her racking in the Tower, thus it was: first, she was led
down into a dungeon, where Sir Anthony Knevet, the lieutenant, commanded his
gaoler to pinch her with the rack: which being done so much as he thought sufficient, he went about to take her down, supposing that he had done enough. But
Wriothesley, the chancellor, displeased that she was loosed so soon, confessing
nothing, commanded the lieutenant to strain her on the rack again, which because
he refused to do, tendering the weakness of the woman, he was threatened, the
chancellor saying, that he would signify his disobedience unto the king; and so
consequently, he and Mr. Rich, throwing off their gowns, would needs play the
tormentors themselves, first asking her, if she were with child; to whom she answering again, said, “Ye shall not need to spare for that, but do your wills upon
me;” and so quietly and patiently praying unto the Lord, she abode their tyranny,
till her bones and joints were almost plucked asunder, so that she was carried
away in a chair. When the racking was past, Wriothesley and his fellow left.
Meantime, while they were making their way by land, the good lieutenant,
eftsoons taking boat, sped him to the court in all haste to speak with the king before the other; who there making his humble suit to the king, desired his pardon,
and showed him the whole matter as it stood, and of the racking of Mrs. Askew;
and that he was threatened by the lord chancellor, because at his commandment,
not knowing his highness’s pleasure, he refused to rack her, which he for compassion could not find in his heart to do, and therefore desired his highness’s pardon.
9
This when the king had understood, he seemed not very well to like their so extreme handling the woman, and also granted to the lieutenant his pardon, willing
him to return and see to his charge. There was great expectation in the mean
season among the warders and officers of the Tower, waiting for his return.
When they saw him come so cheerfully, declaring unto them how he had sped
with the king, they were not a little joyous, and gave thanks to God therefore—a
proof this that persecution was more in favour with the higher than the lower officers. The following is a letter from Mrs. Askew to a fellow martyr, in answer
to one which he had written to her: his name was John Lacel.
“O friend, most dearly beloved in God! I marvel not a little what should
move you to judge me in so slender a faith as to fear death, which is the end of all
misery. In the Lord, I desire you not to believe of me such weakness; for I doubt
it not, that God will perform his work in me, like as he hath begun. I understand
the council is not a little displeased, that it should be reported abroad that I was
racked in the Tower. They say now, that what they did there was but to fear me;
whereby I perceive they are ashamed of their uncomely doings, and fear much lest
the king’s majesty should have information thereof, wherefore they would no man
to noise it. Well, their cruelty God forgive them.”
She was falsely accused of beginning to recant, and she thus answered the accusation.
“I have read the process which is reported of them that know not the truth, to
be my recantation. But, as the Lord liveth, I never meant a thing less than to recant. Notwithstanding this I confess, that in my first troubles, I was examined by
the bishop of London about the sacrament. Yet had they no grant of my mouth
but this, that I believed therein as the word of God did bind me to believe. More
had they never of me. Then he made a copy, which is now in print, and required
me to set thereunto my hand; but I refused it. Then my two sureties did will me
in no wise to stick thereat, for it was no great matters, they said. Then with much
ado, at the last I wrote thus:—I, Anne Askew, do believe this, if God’s word do
agree to the same, and the true catholic church. Then the bishop being in great
displeasure with me, because I made doubts in my writing, commanded me to
prison, where I was awhile, but afterwards by the means of friends I came out
again. Here is the truth of that matter; and as concerning the thing that ye covet
most to know, resort to the sixth of John, and be ruled always thereby. Thus fare
ye well.”
The reader has already seen a brief confession of this pious woman’s faith,
and will delight in perusing an enlargement of the same.
“I, Anne Askew, of good memory, although my merciful Father bath given
me the bread of adversity, and the water of trouble, yet not so much as my sins
have deserved, do confess myself here a sinner before the throne of his heavenly
majesty, desiring his forgiveness and mercy. And for so much as I am by the law
unrighteously condemned for an evil doer, concerning opinions, I take the same
most merciful God of mine, which hath made both heaven and earth, to record,
that I hold no opinions contrary to his most holy word; and I trust in my merciful
Lord, who is the giver of all grace, that he will graciously assist me against all evil
opinions which are contrary to his blessed verity; for I take him to witness that I
10
have done, and will, unto my life’s end, utterly abhor them to the uttermost of my
power.
“But this is the heresy which they report me to hold, that after the priest hath
spoken the words of consecration, there remaineth bread still. They both say,
and also teach it for a necessary article of faith, that after these words be once
spoken, there remaineth no bread, but even the self-same body that hung upon the
cross on Good Friday, both flesh, blood, and bone. To this belief of theirs say I,
nay. For then were our common creed false, which saith, that he sitteth on the
right hand of God the Father Almighty, and from thence shall come to judge the
quick and the dead. Lo, this is the heresy that I hold, and for it must suffer the
death. But as touching the holy and blessed supper of the Lord, I believe it to be
a most necessary remembrance of his glorious sufferings and death. Moreover, I
believe as much therein as my eternal and only Redeemer Jesus Christ would I
should believe.
“Finally, I believe all those scriptures to be true, which he hath confirmed
with his most precious blood; yea, and as St. Paul saith, those scriptures are sufficient for our learning and salvation, that Christ hath left here with us: so that, I
believe, we need no unwritten verities to rule his church with. Therefore look
what he hath said unto me with his own mouth in his holy gospel that I have with
God’s grace closed up in my heart, and my full trust is, as David saith that it shall
be a lantern to my footsteps. There be some that say I deny the eucharist, or sacrament of thanksgiving; but those people untruly report of me, for I both say and
believe it, that if it were ordered as Christ instituted it and left it, a most singular
comfort it were unto us all. But as concerning your mass as it is now used in our
days, I say and believe it to be the most abominable idol that is in the world. For
my God will not be eaten with teeth, neither yet dieth he again; and upon these
words that I have now spoken, will I suffer death.” To this confession she added
a prayer.
“O Lord, I have more enemies now than there be hairs on my head; yet Lord,
let them never overcome me with vain words, but fight thou Lord in my stead, for
on thee cast I my care. With all the spite they can imagine, they fall upon me
who am thy poor creature. Yet, sweet Lord, let me not set by them which are
against me, for in thee is my whole delight; and, Lord, I heartily desire of thee,
that thou wilt of thy most merciful goodness forgive them that violence which
they do and have done unto me. Open also thou their blind hearts, that they may
hereafter do that thing in thy sight, which is only acceptable before thee, and to
set forth thy verity aright, without any vain fantasy of sinful men. So be it, O
Lord, so be it.”
After these refreshing things we are better prepared to speak concerning her
martyrdom. Being born of such stock and kindred as would have enabled her to
live in great wealth and prosperity, if she had chosen rather to have followed the
world than Christ, she now had been so tormented, that she could neither live long
in such great distress, nor yet by her adversaries be suffered to die in secret; the
day of her execution being appointed, she was brought to Smithfield in a chair,
because she could not walk, from the cruel effects of the torments. When she
was brought to the stake, she was fastened to it by the middle with a chain that
11
held up her body. Three others were brought to suffer with her, and for the same
offence; these were, Nicholas Belenian, a priest of Shropshire; John Adams, a
tailor; and John Lacel, gentleman of the court and household of king Henry. The
martyrs being chained to the stake, and all things ready for the fire, Dr. Shaxton,
then appointed to preach, began his sermon. Anne Askew hearing and answering
him, where he said well, she approved; where he said amiss, expressing firmly her
dissent, saying, “He speaketh without the book.”
The sermon being finished, the martyrs, standing at three several stakes ready
to their martyrdom, began their prayers. The multitude of the people was exceeding great, the place where they stood being railed about to keep out the press.
Upon the bench, under St. Bartholomew’s church, sat Wriothesley, the chancellor of England, the old duke of Norfolk, the old earl of Bedford, the lord mayor,
with divers others. Before the fire was kindled, one of the bench hearing that
they had gunpowder about them, and being afraid lest the fagots, by strength of
the gunpowder, would come flying about their ears, began to be afraid; but the
earl of Bedford observing how the gun powder was not laid under the fagots, but
only about their bodies to rid them of their pain, which having vent, there was no
danger to them, so diminished that fear.
Then the lord chancellor sent to Anne Askew, offering to her the king’s pardon if she would recant: a letter said to be written by the king was put into her
hand; but she, refusing once to look upon it, made this answer again. “I came not
hither to deny my Lord and master.” Then were letters likewise offered unto the
others, who in like manner, following the constancy of the woman, denied not
only to receive them, but also to look upon them, continuing to cheer and exhort
each other by the end of their sufferings, and the glory they were about to enter;
whereupon the lord mayor, commanding fire to be put to them, cried with a loud
voice, “fiat justitia.” Thus were these blessed martyrs compassed in with flames
of fire, as holy sacrifices unto God and his truth. There is a letter extant, which
John Lacel briefly wrote in prison respecting the sacrament of Christ’s body and
blood, wherein he confutes the error of them; who, not being contented with the
spiritual receiving of the sacrament, will leave no substance of bread therein, and
also the sinister interpretation of many thereupon.
FOOTNOTE
*This is almost the only charge against this excellent woman which has a semblance of truth,
if she had a fault it was of garrulity, so often laid to the account of her sex. Her wit was of the
quickest and most piercing kind, and not at any time unmingled with prudence any more than piety. Before such treacherous judges, we rather rejoice than regret that her tongue felt itself at perfect liberty. Her rebukes are a standing protest against the assumptions of an intolerant and intolerable priesthood, and are moreover, some of the most interesting in both expression and sentiment that tongue ever uttered or pen recorded.
12
Download