(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}