Bloody Mary And Anne Askew

 

 

Mary I of England (1516–1558)

I always felt sorry for the daughter of Henry VIII and his first wife, Katherine (1485–1536), Mary I, because he wronged both of them in his steadfast pursuit of a living son. Not even producing said son, Edward VI (1537–1553),  secured what he wanted the most, i.e. the conservation of the Tudor name through heredity, because this coveted son died so very young. Henry's two daughters, namely Mary I and Elizabeth I (1533-1603), might have been able to re-establish the Tudor-dynasty, had the rules been different so that a girl didn't lose her birth name by marriage. Anyway, Elizabeth didn't marry, and none of them had children of their own. That means that the Tudor-name was absorbed by their relatives and heirs to the throne, the Stuarts. 

My reason for feeling sorry for Mary I is that I see her as someone, who always got the thick end of the rod, so to speak. It started with her parents: She was a firm Catholic, but her father abandoned the Catholic Church, establishing The Church of England (The Anglican Church). Also, he declared, his marriage to her mother void, which changed her status as a princess into an illegitimate daughter. All of that - as well as a lot more - must have been extremely traumatic to her. Normally, a king found appropriate spouses for his children at an early age, but somehow that didn't happen to Mary. She seems to have been almost forgotten by her father, and maybe that's why she fell so very deeply in love with her Spanish cousin, Philip (II), whom she did marry although everybody seemed to be against their marriage. They were married for four years, but her new husband only stayed with her in England for 15 months in all, which is quite telling. Her strong wishes to have a child - i.e. an heir who might reestablish The Catholic Faith and The Roman Catholic Church in England - came to nothing, although she believed that she was pregnant several times. I would say, that not many would have been able not to become frustrated, angry and maybe even revengeful under these circumstances. Maybe all of this personal adversity made the basis for her - to me - quite unexpected cruelty. I knew that she had almost 300 non-Catholics executed by burning them alive on the stake, and I also knew of her nickname "Bloody Mary", but somehow I didn't grasp the meaning of her misdeeds untill I read about the Protestant poet, Anne Askew. Not that Mary was the one who performed the torture or execution herself, but it sort of made these cruelties vivid to me: This was what that nickname meant. 

Anne Askew (1521–1546) was a convinced, passionate and well-read Protestant. She preached her beliefs, wrote poetry and all in all must have been a nuisance to some powerful people, one of these being her husband. When she left him he, who was a Roman Catholic like Mary I, found her and had her arrested for "heresy".  In Newgate she was tortured cruelly on the rack - "until her sinews snapped" - but still she refused to give the names of other Protestants or to denounce her beliefs. 

After this cruel torture she was burnt on the stake, but the picture of that is not depicting it as it was: She wasn't able to stand up and had been carried on a chair from the prison to the place of execution. As far as I know, Mary didn't expect every "heretic" to be tortured this cruelly, but the fact that it happened to Anne Askew in her name makes me wonder at her and the impression I've had of her until now. 

Yes, both of them were victims to circumstances of the time period as well as of men, and I find the fate of both Mary and Anne quite tragic. Also all of this makes me think of how religion still works havoc in 2026. 

Anne Askew's Ballad from when she was in Newgate

By Anne Askew

 

Like as the armed knight

Appointed to the field,

With this world will I fight

And Faith shall be my shield.

Faith is that weapon strong

Which will not fail at need.

My foes, therefore, among

Therewith will I proceed.

As it is had in strength

And force of Christes way

It will prevail at length

Though all the devils say nay.

Faith in the fathers old

Obtained rightwisness

Which make me very bold

To fear no world's distress.

I now rejoice in heart

And Hope bid me do so

For Christ will take my part

And ease me of my woe.

Thou saist, lord, who so knock,

To them wilt thou attend.

Undo, therefore, the lock

And thy strong power send.

More enmyes now I have

Than hairs upon my head.

Let them not me deprave

But fight thou in my stead.

On thee my care I cast.

For all their cruel spight

I set not by their haste

For thou art my delight.

I am not she that list

My anchor to let fall

For every drizzling mist

My ship substancial.

Not oft use I to wright

In prose nor yet in rime,

Yet will I shew one sight

That I saw in my time.

I saw a rial throne

Where Justice should have sit

But in her stead was one

Of moody cruel wit.

Absorpt was rightwisness

As of the raging flood

Sathan in his excess

Suct up the guiltless blood.

Then thought I, Jesus lord,

When thou shalt judge us all

Hard is it to record

On these men what will fall.

Yet lord, I thee desire

For that they do to me

Let them not taste the hire

Of their iniquity.

Copyright Credit: The lattre examinacyon of Anne Askewe, latelye martyred in Smythfelde, by the 

 

 

 

Wikipedia 

 

https://www.poemhunter.com/anne-askew/