CHAPTER XXIII
. ANNE BOLEYN, SECOND QUEEN OF HENRY VIII.
(A.D. 1501-1536.)
|Anne Boleyn was one of the beauties of the court of Katharine of Arragon, and was particularly attractive to the king on account of her wit and her fondness for pageants and masquerades, in which she took a leading part. Henry performed at these entertainments, also; thus these two were often thrown together, and the lady's vanity and ambition were flattered by the attentions he paid her.
She was an Englishwoman by birth, though of French descent on her father's side. Her mother died when she was only eleven years old, and she was taken charge of by a French governess called Simonette. She was carefully educated, and excelled in music and needlework. Besides, she wrote both French and English letters to her father when he was away, and that was an accomplishment very rare among ladies of the reign of Henry VIII. {[A. D. 1514.]} It was probably on account of her superior knowledge that she was selected to go with the young Princess Mary to France when she married Louis XII., and her knowledge of the language must have been of great service to the young girl, who could speak only English. They had a very stormy voyage to Boulogne, and had to go ashore in little boats at the risk of their lives. It was rather trying to the Princess Mary and her four maids of honor to have to appear in their drenched garments before all the French nobles who had assembled on the beach to receive them.
{379}
[Illustration: 0383]
{381}But they soon had a chance of showing off their beauty to advantage, for when within four miles of Abbeville they mounted white horses, and with thirty other ladies who joined the procession, rode into the town. Mary wore a superb embroidered robe, and her ladies' dresses were of crimson velvet, which must have been particularly becoming to the warm, brunette complexion and sparkling black eyes of Anne Boleyn.
When the King of France died, and Mary went back to England, Anne did not accompany her, but entered the service of Queen Claude, wife of Francis I.
This queen was a most excellent woman, and exercised a wholesome influence over her maids of honor. They went regularly with her to mass, attended her when she appeared in public, and spent part of every day in her society reading, embroidering, and weaving. The strict rules of this sober-minded queen were rather irksome to the lively English maid of honor, for she was fond of all sorts of games, music, and dancing, and is said to have invented many new figures and steps which she performed with much grace and agility. Another of her gifts was a remarkably sweet voice, both in singing and speaking. While at the French court her costume was a cap of velvet, trimmed in points, a little gold bell hanging from each point; a vest of the same material with silver stars, a jacket of watered silk with large hanging sleeves that almost concealed her hands, and a skirt to match. Her feet were encased in blue velvet slippers, with a strap across the instep, fastened with a diamond star. Her hair fell in ringlets about her shoulders. Of course she dressed in this manner only when she was very young; later, when she lived in England, her costumes were very different. She had one serious defect which, however, she managed to conceal with her long sleeves. It was a deformity of the little finger of the left hand which some chroniclers say was divided and formed two fingers.
[[A.D. 1522.]] {382}She was about twenty years old when she returned to England and attached herself to the household of Katharine.
The maids of honor dined at mess in those days like officers of the army or navy of the present time, and were plentifully served with all the good food the markets afforded, besides an ample supply of ale and wine. Each maid of honor was allowed a servant and a spaniel, and those who were daughters of peers could have stabling for horses and carriages besides.
There was a young man at court named Lord Henry Percy, the eldest son of the Duke of Northumberland, whose duty it was to attend Cardinal Wolsey to the palace daily; but while that prelate held council with the king, Lord Henry would pass the time with the court ladies. The result of these visits was a love affair between him and the fair Anne Boleyn. But the king had made up his mind to marry the young maid of honor himself as soon as he could get a divorce from his wife, consequently he complained to the cardinal, and told him that he must break off the match at once, because he had planned a marriage for Anne with another person. The cardinal sent for Percy and took him to task for thinking to unite himself to anybody without first consulting his father and the king. The young man expressed his regret at having displeased the king, but declared that he could not give up his lady-love. Thereupon Wolsey swore that he should be forced to do so, adding: "I will send for your father out of the North, and he and we shall take this matter in hand; in the meantime I charge thee to go no more into her company to arouse the king's indignation." With these words he arose and went into his own room.
In answer to the king's summons the Earl of Northumberland did appear with as little delay as possible. He was {383}an extremely proud, cold, narrow-minded man, who wanted his son to marry a woman at least his equal in rank and wealth; therefore at the conclusion of his secret interview with the cardinal he rated Percy soundly, and applied to him the most abusive and insulting names he could think of. He finished his long lecture by telling him that he did not mean to make him his heir, because he had other boys who, he trusted, would prove wiser men, and he would choose one of them for his successor.
Percy was then banished from court, and forced to marry Mary Talbot, a daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury, with whom he was very unhappy. If only he had been strong enough to hold out in his love for Anne a little while longer he might have been spared a great deal of misery, for his father died in less than three years after his forced marriage, and he became Earl of Northumberland.
To punish Anne for loving Percy, the king banished her from court and sent her home to her father's house. She laid the whole blame on Wolsey, and was so angry with him as to declare she would be revenged on him. He could never gain favor with her after that. She lived at Hever Castle, with her father and stepmother, and was very unhappy on account of the great disappointment she had suffered.
After a time the king made an unexpected visit at the castle, but Anne pretended to be ill, and would not leave her room all the time he was there. But the tyrant was bound to have everything to suit himself, so he began to draw her family to court by giving them important offices, and advanced her father to the peerage under the title of Viscount Rochford. Still Anne did not return, and the king wrote her several letters urging her to do so. She dared not show him how angry she was because he had {384}broken off her engagement with Percy, but she was treasuring up a store of vengeance against the cardinal, who had been his tool, that she hoped some day to visit upon his head. She had been away from court just four years when she returned, and Wolsey's enemies were glad to be able to count on her influence to crush him.
A short time after he was sent on an embassy to France, and it was during his absence that Anne gained a great deal of influence over the king. Ambition had entered her head, and seeing that Henry admired her, she determined to share his throne as soon as his wife could be got out of the way. He had asked her to marry him, and only awaited the settlement of the divorce, which was a long and tedious affair.
Anne Boleyn was soon living in Suffolk House, which the king had secured for her, and there she had a regular court of her own, with her ladies-in-waiting, her train-bearer, and her chaplains, quite independent of the queen.
The first introduction of Tindal's translation of the Scriptures was made while Anne was so powerful. Among her ladies was one called Mistress Gaynsford, who had a lover, also employed at Suffolk House, named George Zouch. One day the young lady was deeply interested in a book, from which she would not raise her eyes, even to speak to George, who tried several times to make her listen to him, At last he became very angry and snatched the book out of her hand. It proved to be the translation of Tindal, that had been privately presented by one of the Reformers to Anne Boleyn. Now, this work had been proscribed by Cardinal Wolsey, who was not in favor of any reforms in religion, and kept secret from the king. Mistress Gaynsford knew this perfectly well, and was so frightened at being discovered with it that she begged and implored her lover to return it to her, but merely to tease her,
{385}
[Illustration: 0389]
{387}he ran off with it. The next time he went to the King's chapel, with the other courtiers, he took it into his head to read the identical book he had taken from his ladylove, and became so absorbed in it that the service was concluded without his knowing it. The dean of the chapel wondered what George could be reading with so much interest, and asked to have a look at the volume. As soon as he saw what it was he carried it to Cardinal Wolsey. Meantime, Anne had asked for it, and when she heard into whose hands it had fallen, she said: "Well, it shall be the dearest book that ever dean or cardinal detained." Then she went to the king, and not only succeeded in persuading him to get the book back for her, but made him read it.
This beautiful favorite continued to hate Cardinal Wolsey more and more, and was determined that Henry should show him no favors if she could help it. Her mind was constantly busy laying plans to keep them apart, and to put the cardinal in an unfavorable light, though she used the most flattering terms both in speaking and writing to him. This deception she continued until he was won over to Queen Katharine's cause, when she declared her hostility openly, and she was a woman who would stop at nothing that would gratify her thirst for revenge. She was constantly poisoning the king's mind against him, yet the old friendship would crop out from time to time, and when the cardinal was seized with the pestilence Dr. Butts, the king's physician, was sent to attend him.
"Have you seen yonder man?" asked King Henry of the doctor. "Yes," was the reply; "and if you will have him dead, I warrant you that if he receive not some comfort from you he will be dead within four days."
"God forbid!" cried the king, "I would not lose him for twenty thousand pounds. I pray you go to him, and do you care for him." {388}"Then must your grace send him some comfortable message," said Dr. Butts.
"Tell him that I am not offended with him in my heart for anything, and bid him be of good comfort," returned the king, handing the doctor a ruby ring with his own image carved thereon, and requesting him to carry it to the patient. He desired Anne Boleyn to send some token of regard also, and she handed the doctor a gold tablet that hung at her side, adding a loving message, of which she did not mean a word. Wolsey raised himself in his bed when the presents were shown to him, and thanked the doctor joyfully for the comfort he had brought. At the end of four days he was well again. But he was too near the court for the comfort or ease of his enemies, so {389}the Duke of Norfolk, Anne's uncle, sent him word through Cromwell "that if he did not instantly depart for the north he would tear him with his teeth." He did go as far as Cawood, near York, but Anne never ceased her persecutions until she had him arrested for high treason, and employed her early lover Percy to carry him the warrant. No doubt this was done to remind the cardinal of her first cause of hatred towards him. He was in prison only twenty-five days when he obtained his release.
At this time the Duke of Norfolk, Anne's uncle, was president of the cabinet, while the Duke of Suffolk, her father, Sir Thomas More, Fitzwilliam, and Stephen Gardiner conducted the affairs of the realm, but she was the ruling power that influenced them all. She kept up her court with great splendor, and spent money most extravagantly. Still she could not marry the king until Cromwell's bold stroke that separated England from the power of the pope enabled her to do so.
Then poor Queen Katharine was driven away from Windsor Castle, and the king created Anne Boleyn Marchioness of Pembroke, with a pension of £1000 per annum. This ceremony was performed with great pomp. The king was seated on his throne in the presence chamber at Windsor, surrounded by his councillors and a number of peers. Anne Boleyn entered, followed by a long train of courtiers, and lords and ladies of the nobility. Lady Mary carried on her left arm a robe of state made of crimson velvet, lined and trimmed with ermine, and in her right hand a coronet of gold. Anne wore a jacket of red velvet with short sleeves, her hair hanging loosely about her shoulders. She courtesied three times before reaching the throne, then kneeled down at the king's feet. After that the charter was read aloud, and the king himself placed the mantle on the shoulders of the new marchioness and {390}the coronet on her head. She thanked the sovereign humbly, and withdrew amidst the sounding of trumpets. Anne Boleyn's tastes were much more in harmony with those of the king than Katharine's had been, for she was fond of hunting and all games of cards and dice. She was a lucky gamester as a rule, but Henry's losses were perfectly enormous, and formed quite an important item in his private expenses.
[Illustration: 0394]
The exact time or place of the marriage between Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn is not known. It was kept secret because it was so unpopular in England, but as soon as the ceremony was performed Viscount Rochford was sent to France to announce the event to Francis I. When the secret leaked out Cranmer publicly announced King Henry's divorce from Queen Katharine and his marriage to Anne Boleyn, who then began to appear in state.
[[A.D. 1534.]] Early in May, 1534, the king notified the {391}lord-mayor that the coronation of Queen Anne would take place at Westminster on Whitsunday, and requested him to conduct her grace from Greenwich to the Tower by water a few days before. On the 19th of May the river Thames presented a most festive appearance. In obedience to the royal order a barge had been decorated and fitted up for Anne Boleyn's use in a most gorgeous style. The lord-mayor embarked in this, and fifty others followed in his train, one carrying a band of music, while the others were filled with all the great men of London dressed in scarlet, many of them wearing heavy gold chains about their necks, and others their order of knighthood. Hundreds of little row-boats were moving about on the water besides, for every one who could procure any sort of a tug accompanied the chief of the city to Greenwich, or rested on their oars in the best positions they could find to get a sight of the new queen. On the deck of the royal barge was a tremendous dragon, surrounded by other monsters that were from time to time made to vomit forth fire by concealed artillerymen to the delight and terror of the different boats that floated near. On one barge sat a score of young ladies amidst festoons of red and white roses arranged on branches that formed a canopy, at the summit of which sat a white falcon crowned, holding a sceptre in one foot, and Anne Boleyn's motto "Me and Mine" hanging on his breast. These young ladies sang the queen's praises in a chorus as they glided over the water. All the barges were fitted up with gay flags, flowers and banners. Having reached Greenwich Palace they anchored, the band performing different pieces of music, and the chorus of ladies singing until three o'clock, when Anne appeared superbly dressed and attended by her ladies. She entered her barge, and the gay flotilla moved down the river again amidst music, cheering, and the sounding of trumpets until {392}it reached the Tower, when a marvellous peal of guns was shot off. The lord-chamberlain received the queen and conducted her to the king, who kissed her tenderly. The whole evening the barges hovered near the Tower, and from them was a display of brilliant fireworks, while crowds of people, stood to witness them on the neighboring wharves and bridges.
How different were the feelings of the fair Anne within that self-same fortress only two short years later. On the eve of the coronation, according to the usual custom, the queen was conducted through the city of London in grand procession. All the streets through which she passed were decorated. The lord-mayor received her at the Tower gate. He wore a crimson velvet gown with a gold collar. First in the procession came the French ambassador with his retinue in blue and yellow velvet, then the judges, next the newly-made Knights of the Bath in violet gowns with hoods lined and trimmed with white fur. After them came the abbots, then the nobility and the bishops. The Archbishop of York rode with the ambassador of Venice, and Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, with the French ambassador. Then followed two esquires wearing the coronet of Normandy and Aquitaine, the lord-mayor with his mace and garter, several more knights and nobles. Close behind them was an open litter drawn by two white horses led by footmen dressed in white damask. In this litter sat the bright object of the parade in a jacket of silver tissue, mantle of the same lined with ermine, her dark hair falling in pretty contrast over her shoulders. A band of precious stones encircled her head, and above her was held by four knights on foot a canopy covered with cloth of cold.
The master of the horse led the queen's own riding animal, bearing a rich side-saddle with trappings of cloth of {393}gold that reached nearly to the ground. Seven ladies on horseback, dressed in crimson velvet, followed; then came two chariots, in one of which sat the old Duchess of Norfolk with the Marchioness of Dorset, and in the other four ladies of the bed-chamber. Fourteen more ladies with their waiting maids came next, and the guard brought up the rear.
[Illustration: 8387]
At Fenchurch street was a pageant of children dressed up to represent different kinds of merchants, who welcomed the queen both in French and English, the whole procession halting for that purpose. At a corner of another street was an enormous fountain that poured forth fine Rhenish wine all day long, of which anybody could drink just as much as he chose. One of the pageants was a white falcon similar to the one on the barge, with this difference: it sat uncrowned amidst red and white roses, and when the queen came opposite it, an angel flew down, accompanied by soft music, and placed a crown of gold on its head. A fountain of red wine flowed at another corner, and the three Graces stood above it on a throne, before which sat a poet who recited verses and presented the queen with appropriate gifts from Faith, Hope and Charity.
The city recorder handed the queen a purse containing a thousand marks in gold, which she graciously received with thanks. At Cheapside was a rich pageant from which proceeded music and singing, while Pallas, Venus, and Juno held up their apples of gold containing wisdom, riches, and felicity, which they presented to the queen. Over the gate of St. Paul's was a banner with this inscription in Latin: "Proceed, Queen Anne, and reign prosperously."
On a scaffold near by were two hundred children, all beautifully dressed, who recited verses, and so after passing several other pageants and fountains of red and white wine, the queen arrived at Westminster. The palace was richly decorated within and without. She rode to the very middle of the hall, where she was assisted to alight from her litter, and led up the high dais, where she took her seat under the canopy of state. At her left side stood a cabinet with ten shelves filled with rich and costly cups and goblets of gold. After partaking of wine, cake, and sugar-plums, which were handed to her ladies also, she withdrew to change her dress, and probably to rest, for all the parading and sightseeing of the past several hours must have been rather fatiguing.
The next day was the one that Anne had looked forward to for many years; the one that was to place her on the throne of England. It was the 1st of July, and at a little after eight o'clock on that bright summer morning she stood under her canopy of state in a purple velvet mantle lined with ermine, a band of rubies encircling her brow. There was the usual procession for such occasions, and the queen was conducted to the high altar in Westminster Abbey, where she prostrated herself while Cranmer recited part of the service. Then he anointed her on the head and breast, placed the crown on her head, and handed her the sceptre, while the choir sang the Te Deum. She returned to her seat between the high altar and the choir, where she remained to the end of the mass, when her father led her to her private room off Westminster Hall to wait till the banquet was prepared. Then all the great earls stood in {395}gorgeous attire prepared to wait on the queen in different capacities, the Duke of Suffolk as high steward, assisted by Lord William Howard, the Earl of Sussex as carver, the Earl of Arundel as chief butler, and so on.
When all was ready, the queen entered the hall with her canopy borne over her, washed her hands in the perfumed water poured over them by Sir Thomas Wyatt, and took her seat at the table, the Countesses of Oxford and Worcester standing on either side of her chair, while two gentlewomen sat at her feet. All the tables in the hall were beautifully laid and tastefully decorated, and there was music all through the meal. The king took no part in this ceremony at all, but remained shut up in the cloister of St. Stephen's a part of the abbey, whence he could overlook all the proceedings without being seen himself. During the dinner the Duke of Suffolk and Lord William Howard rode up and down the hall, laughing and chatting with the lords and ladies, and when it was over commanded them to remain in their places until the queen had washed her hands. She arose and stood in the middle of the hall, while the Earl of Sussex brought her some sweetmeats. Then the lord-mayor brought her a golden cup filled with wine. After she had drunk, she presented him the cup and walked towards the door of her room under her canopy. Before disappearing, she turned and presented the gold bells, canopy, and all its decorations to the barons who had carried it.
On the following day there were jousts before the king and queen in the tilt-yard. But the pope did not approve of this second marriage, and so expelled the royal couple from the church; and Henry's cousin Cardinal Pole, wrote him letters of reproach, calling Anne "Jezebel,"
"Sorceress," and many other horrible names. Nevertheless, the king treated her with all the dignity of her station, and had {396}her initial A joined with his own on all the gold and silver coins that were struck after their marriage. Henry VIII. was the first and last monarch of England who ever paid his wife that compliment.
Sir Thomas More was one of Anne's special enemies, because he remained true in his friendship for Queen Katherine to the day of her death. When his daughter visited him in the Tower he asked her "how Queen Anne did?"
"Never better," she replied: "there is nothing else at court but dancing and sporting."
"Never better!" said he, "alas! Meg, alas! it pitieth me to think into what misery, poor soul, she will shortly come. These dances of hers will prove such dances that she will spurn our heads off like foot-balls, but it will not be long ere her head will dance the like dance." Her tragical end proves the truth of that poet's prophetic words.
When that great and good man was executed, the announcement of it was made to Henry while he happened to be playing cards with Anne. "Thou art the cause of this man's death," he cried, looking at her angrily, and rising from the table. He then shut himself up in his room, deeply grieved.
[[A.D. 1533.]] In 1533 Anne had a little daughter born, who afterwards became the renowned Queen Elizabeth. The opposition her marriage had met with from Rome caused Anne to side with the Reformation party, though she always continued a Catholic at heart, and observed all the ceremonies of that church. It is probable that she took no part in the cruelty that Henry exercised over the pious reformers, but it is certain that she made no effort to prevent it; for had she done so, she was still powerful enough to have succeeded. She had enjoyed one triumph.
Probably this change was due to the influence of the reformer, Hugh Latimer, whom she rescued from prison, where he had been sent by the bishop of London; for it was after he preached to her and pointed out her duty that she so generously distributed alms and even paid for the education of promising lads who were likely to devote themselves to the church. She must often have felt that {397}after another, but when she reached the very summit of her greatness, no doubt she found that her path had been more thickly strewn with thorns than roses, and that in reading the Scriptures she felt the force of the text, which says: "What is a man profited if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" She became grave and serious, and spent more time at needlework with her ladies, whom she assisted in making clothing which she distributed among the poor.
[Illustration: 0401]
{398}her position on the throne of England was not very secure, for as her capricious husband had behaved towards his first wife might he not behave towards her also?
When the news of Katharine's death was brought to her she exclaimed: "Now I am indeed a queen!" But it was not long before she was suffering all the bitter pangs that the good queen over whose death she rejoiced had endured.
Henry had grown tired of her, and was carrying on a flirtation with the beautiful Jane Seymour, one of her attendants. And so, under one pretext or another, her friends were either beheaded or locked up in the Tower.
At last her turn came, and just as she had finished her dinner, on the 2d of May, the Duke of Norfolk, with Cromwell and other lords of the council entered, while Sir William Kingston, lieutenant of the Tower, stood in the doorway.
Anne asked "why they had come?" They replied: "That they came by the king's command to conduct her to the Tower, there to abide during his highness' pleasure."
"If it be his majesty's pleasure I am ready to obey," she said, going with them to her barge without waiting to make the least change in her garments. Arriving at the Tower, she was placed in the apartment she had occupied on the night before her coronation. Her attendants were two enemies, who were particularly disagreeable to her--Lady Boleyn and Mrs. Cosyns. These two women never left her, night or day, for they slept on a pallet at the foot of her bed, and reported every word she uttered. They made all sorts of impertinent remarks to her, and kept constantly annoying her with questions by which they hoped to prove something against her.
The poor queen was so affected by her close imprisonment that at times she seemed to have lost her reason. She wrote a touching letter to the king, appealing to his {399}mercy, but he took not the slightest notice of it, and just one week after she was sent to prison a charge of high treason was made by the grand jury of Westminster against Anne Boleyn, her brother, and four of her best friends.
The friends were condemned to death, as almost everybody was in Henry VIII.'s reign who was brought to trial for high treason, though sometimes they were not even tried at all.
Twenty-six "lords' triers," from the body of nobles in England were selected to try Lord Rochford, Anne's brother; and, although he defended himself with great spirit and eloquence, and many of the judges sided with him, he was found guilty.
After his removal, Anne, Queen of England, was called into court by an usher.
She appeared immediately, and took her stand "with the true dignity of a queen, courtesying to her judges without any sign of fear."
The charges were read, and she pleaded "Not guilty," but the trial was continued for a long time, and ended by a verdict of guilty. It was her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, who presided at this trial, and he pronounced her sentence. She was condemned to be burnt or beheaded, at the king's pleasure. Anne Boleyn heard this dreadful doom without changing color, but when her stern kinsman had ended, she clasped her hands and raising her eyes to Heaven exclaimed: "O Father! O Creator! Thou who art the way the life, and the truth, knowest whether I have deserved this death."
She then turned to her judges and proclaimed her innocence of every charge made against her, closing her remarks with: "Think not I say this in the hope of prolonging my life. God has taught me how to die, and he will strengthen my faith. As for my brother and those others who are unjustly {400}condemned, I would willingly suffer many deaths to deliver them; but since I see it so pleases the king I shall willingly accompany them to death, with this assurance, that I shall lead an endless life with them in peace." With a composed air, she rose, made a parting salutation to her judges, and left the court.
The 19th of May was the day appointed for her execution, and the interval was passed in prayer and confession, receiving the sacraments of the church, and other preparations for death.
It was the king's pleasure that she should be beheaded in the grounds of the Tower, and that no strangers should be admitted. A headsman from Calais was brought over to do the horrible deed, because he was considered particularly expert. Anne Boleyn's fate had had no precedent in English history, for even in the Norman reigns of terror woman's life had been held sacred, and the most merciless of the Plantagenet sovereigns had been too manly to butcher ladies. But the age of chivalry was over, and Henry VIII. was the first sovereign who sent queens and princesses to the block, without justice or mercy.
The unfortunate queen was duly informed of her fate; her mournful experience had shown her the vanity and vexation of flattery. Beauty, wealth, genius, pleasure, power, royalty, had all been hers, and whither had they led her?
She had not condescended to implore the mercy of the king, for she knew his pitiless nature too well even to attempt to touch his feelings. She passed the last night in prayer, and when morning came, and she heard that her execution was to be a few hours later than she expected, she said to Mr. Kingston: "I hear I shall not die afore noon, and I am very sorry, for I thought to be dead by this time, and past my pain," {401}Mr. Kingston told her that the pain would be little and very short.
"I have heard say," she replied, "that the executioner is very good, and I have a little neck," and she spanned it with her hands, laughing heartily as she did so.
[[A.D. 1536.]] Her last message to the king was: "Commend me to his majesty, and tell him he hath been ever constant in his career of advancing me; from a private gentlewoman he made me a marchioness, from a marchioness a queen, and now he hath left no higher degree of honor he gives my innocency the crown of martyrdom."
A few minutes before twelve o'clock the massive doors of the Tower were thrown open, and the royal victim appeared in a robe of black damask with a deep white cape falling around her shoulders.
She looked very beautiful when she ascended the scaffold, with a calm and dignified air, and turning to Kingston she requested him not to hasten the signal of her death until she had spoken what she desired to say.
Then she began: "Good Christian people, I am come hither to die by the law, therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, but only to die, and to yield myself humbly unto the will of my lord the king. I pray God to save the king, and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler or more merciful prince there never was. If any person will meddle with my cause, I require them to judge the best. Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, and I heartily desire that you all will pray for me." She then removed her hat and collar, as well as the close cap from her head, and handed them to her ladies, who were weeping so bitterly that they could not aid her. Then turning to them she said: "And ye, my damsels, who ever showed yourselves so diligent in my service, and who are now to be present at my last hour {402}and mortal agony, as in good fortune ye were faithful to me, so even in this my miserable death ye do not forsake me. And as I cannot reward you for your true service to me, I pray you take comfort for my loss. Forget me not, and be always faithful to the king's grace, and to her whom with happier fortune, ye may have as your queen and mistress. Esteem your honor far above your life, and in prayers forget not to pray for my soul."
Mary Wyatt, the sister of Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poet, who was one of Anne's devoted friends, attended her on the scaffold, and received her last gift, which was a little book of devotions bound in black enamel and gilt. She then whispered a few words to this lady, and kneeling down, placed her head upon the block. Time was allowed the poor unfortunate queen to say; "O Lord God, have pity on my soul," when the sword fell. With one stroke, the head of Anne Boleyn was severed from her body, and rolled in the dust.
There is a black marble monument in the ancient church of Horndon-on-the-Hill, in Essex, pointed out as the burial place of Anne Boleyn, but as it bears no name, no notice or inscription of any kind, there is no proof that her body lies there.
A great epic poet has beautifully said:--
"Tradition! oh, tradition! thou of the seraph tongue;
The ark that links two ages, the ancient and the young."
{403}
##