ANNE ASCUE.
THE hand of Mr. Presgrave was on the last sheet of paper, neatly
folded, and tied with red tape. Percy looked uneasy, and edged back
his chair till he was almost hidden in the shadow of the screen. Mr.
Presgrave then proceeded as follows:
Percy's Tale.
ANNE ASCUE.
"'Has she confessed nothing?'"
"'Nothing, my lord.'"
"'And recanted nothing!'"
"'Nothing.'"
"'There is no doubt but that she could give information to implicate
the Queen,* whose influence with King Henry is tottering now, and ready
to fall with a breath. We must try sterner means; bring the prisoner
before us; she can speak, she must, and she shall.'"
* Queen Catherine Parr, the sixth and last wife of Henry VIII.
This Queen favoured the Reformation, and had many enemies, who hoped,
by torturing Anne Ascue, to induce her to confess something that might
ruin her royal mistress, and perhaps even bring her to the block.
"Thus spake stern Wriothesley, Chancellor of Henry VIII., leaning
back in his massive chair, and folding his arms with an air of gloomy
determination. On what are his dark eyes sternly fixed?—a long,
fearful-looking machine, beside which stands a dark executioner. Do you
ask its name and its use? Mercy shudders, and is silent.
"And now there is a light step in the hall, a slight female form is led
before the judge, and Anne Ascue stands so near to the instrument of
torture, that her white robe touches its iron wheel, and unconsciously
she half leans upon the frame."
"Wriothesley beckons to his secretary, a hard-featured man in the garb
of a monk, who at the sign takes a seat at a small table near, and
placing a blank sheet of paper before him, remains ready to take down
the confession of the prisoner."
"'Woman,' said the Chancellor, 'for the last time mercy is offered to
thee; thou mayest earn it by a full confession and a free recantation.'"
"How silvery were the tones of the tremulous voice that replied:
'Recant!—that I cannot, or deny the truth. Confess!—I can confess my
sins, and I can confess my faith, and I know that I shall find mercy,
but not from man!'"
"'This is trifling. Look behind you!' spake Wriothesley."
"Then, indeed, all colour faded from the cheek of the young Lollard,*
an expression of intense horror passed over her features, she clasped
her hands and looked wildly round, as though seeking a protector in
that stern company. But none stood forwards to help the oppressed;
those whose hearts felt pity shunned meeting her gaze; slowly she
raised it towards heaven, and her lips moved in silent, fervent prayer."
* A name given to the Reformers (we now call them Protestants)
in early times.
"' Once more, prisoner, I demand, wilt thou recant?'"
"With a violent effort Anne gasped forth, 'Never!'"
"Wriothesley made a sign to the executioner, and the stern man silently
obeyed.
"And who was she who was stretched upon the rack, and what was the
crime for which she suffered? A young, tender lady, whose home had been
a court, whose companion the wife of her king! And her crime was love
for Gospel-truth, a devotion which led her freely to exchange a palace
for a dungeon, and pleasures for the rack!
"Thought dare not dwell on the terrible scene; pain could wring forth
only cries to Heaven, and prayers to the Saviour for whom she suffered."
"And He was with her in that fiery trial, as His presence was with the
young men in the furnace of Nebuchadnezzar; in weakness He was her
strength, in anguish her comfort. He could breathe into the soul of
the tortured martyr, 'Rejoice and be exceeding glad; for great is your
reward in heaven!'"
"The heart of the stern executioner was touched; he paused, he could
not proceed. Impatiently Wriothesley sprang from his seat, with his own
hand turned the fatal wheel—a shriek burst from the lips of his victim!"
"'Retract!—confess!' These words rung in her ears. Oh! What mortal
courage is sufficient for this hour;—God, God alone can support
and strengthen! And God did strengthen—God did support. Anne's
half-lifeless form was raised from the rack; the secretary's page was
yet a blank. She had neither betrayed her faith nor her Queen!"
"Anne Ascue was carried to the stake the next day; she had no longer
power to walk; but the bitterness of death to her was past! Calmly she
gazed on the dreadful preparations, and saw in the heaped but 'the
prophet's fire to bear her to a Father!' Soon all was over; cruelty
had done its worst, it had sent its victim sooner to her eternal home.
The soft breezes scattered the ashes of the martyr, and her spirit was
rejoicing in the realms of light."
——————————
"Can such a terrible story really be true?" cried Julia.
"Too true," replied Mr. Presgrave. "Anne was but one of many martyrs
who suffered for the truth in the reigns of Henry VIII and Queen Mary."
"Ah!" said his wife. "When we read our precious Bibles, we little think
how much blood has flowed, and what agonies have been endured, to
secure to us a privilege which we often value too lightly!"
"Will such times ever come again?" asked Willy.
"The future, my boy, is known only to God—our duties lie in the
present. May the Almighty give us grace, both now and always, to deeply
prize His sacred Word, and whether in prosperity or in adversity,
through good report or evil report, to hold fast the profession of our
faith without wavering!"
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