In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,135

in England and had come as far as the Solent.

At such times my father was at his best. He was a great king and, in spite of everything he had done the people recognized this quality in him. When he was concerned with the affairs of the country, he showed his powers of leadership. He did not spare himself; and although people were heavily taxed to deal with the emergency, he himself gave all he could. The common people had never suffered at his hands as those close to him had. The murdered wives were represented to the people as guilty of loose living in the case of Catharine Howard and of witchcraft with Anne Boleyn. Those who had suffered for their religion were mostly in high places, rarely those of humble origins. The people would always remember him as the glittering sovereign of their youth; even now, in his old age, he carried that aura of royalty with him wherever he went, and it could win them to his side.

Disease was his ally, for it worked for him against the French. The sailors in those French ships which had attempted an invasion of England were so stricken that there was nothing for them to do but turn back, and François was forced to make peace. Boulogne was to remain in my father's hands for eight years, then its fate would be reconsidered. The war with France was over.

True, there was still trouble in the north, but there was often trouble in the north, and my father was able to turn his full attention in that direction since he was not being harassed by another front.

Meanwhile there was news of Anne Askew.

Susan was alarmed. “She has been most grievously racked,” she said. “There are few who can withstand that pain.”

“What do you fear?” I asked.

“The others will be implicated.”

“Why… why should they be?”

“Because they share her opinions… because they have sent comforts to her in the Tower perhaps.”

I knew the Queen had sent warm clothing to her, and I felt sick with fear.

I learned later that the Lord Chancellor Wriothesley and Sir Richard Rich, exasperated with Anne because she would not implicate the Queen, had worked the rack most ferociously with their own hands in order to inflict greater pain.

Poor Anne Askew! There are some made to be martyrs, and she was one. Firmly she refused to betray anyone; nor would she deny her faith; and she was condemned to be burned at the stake.

The Queen was in a state of grief and panic. I do not know how she lived through those days. She must be with the King, talk to him, dress his legs, pretend to be merry … and all the time she must have been wondering when it would be her turn.

There came the day when Anne Askew was taken to the stake. The Lord Chancellor sent her a letter telling her that even now, at this late stage, if she would recant, she would have the King's pardon.

Anne proudly shook her head.

“I have not come here to deny my Master,” she said.

So her poor broken body was bound to the stake, and they lighted the sticks at her feet.

THERE WAS A SUBDUED atmosphere—not only in the Court but in the streets. A pall of smoke hung over Smithfield. People were whispering about Anne Askew—young, beautiful and brave. She had died for her faith. She had done no harm to any. All she had done was read books which were forbidden—that, and cling to her opinions.

People did not like it.

They were inclined to think the King was misled by his ministers. It amazed me how they always made excuses for him. They had made of him the strong leader, and that was how they wanted him to remain. Weakness was the greatest sin; he had never been guilty of that. Sensual he was; oh yes, fond of the pleasures of the flesh; but he always partook of them under a cloak of morality. Other kings sported with countless mistresses; the King had wives, albeit he either divorced or murdered them; but still he clung to the morality of the marriage vows; he might be a callous murderer but he was deeply sentimental; and his old friend—that adaptable conscience—was never far away. And somehow, in spite of all that had happened, he managed to keep his popularity.

He was faintly irritated with those who had arrested Anne Askew and taken her to the Tower. There had been too