wards, in the yet more terrible one, when kneeling, with steadfast eyes fixed on her executioner, she met the same fate, it is but too probable the form of the man murdered, if not by her actual, at least by her indirect means, seemed to hover before her, and share, with the memory of the supplanted Catharine, that royal mistress to whom he had been faithful, even unto death, in the mission of reproach and retribution.

The sacrifice of Sir Thomas More was consummated on a fine summer morning: we may fancy the sad mockery of nature's brightest and loveliest hues spreading over that dear old Chelsea garden, upon the fatal day, to the heart-broken family of the victim. What agonies of mind must have been endured by the devoted Margaret and her sisters; by William Roper, scarcely less attached than herself, to the noble father of his wife! In the very extremity of her grief, however, the favourite daughter preserved that endurance and constancy of purpose which had, probably, been one of the principal charms which knit her to her father's breast. She was determined his remains should find the resting-place which he had himself destined, and where an epitaph by his own hand, was already placed in the chancel of the church, near their quiet home. By her unwearied care and exertion, the victim's body was interred, first in the chapel of St. Peter's ad Vincula, in the Tower, and afterwards, when opportunity served, brought to the church at

Kyme's "labour and suit." If so, truly did she realize the Saviour's prediction, that His followers' foes should be those of their own households. She was detained by her judges about five hours, and then conveyed away in the custody of the clerk of the Council, to the house of Lady Garnish. On the following day, she was again brought up for interrogation, and, failing other means to elicit something to her disadvantage, the bishop of Winchester desired to speak with her alone. This she refused. They asked, why? "In the mouth of two or three witnesses every matter should stand," she replied, "after Christ's and Paul's doctrine." Again she was dismissed. "So went I to my lady's again;" "but on the Sunday she was," she goes on to tell us, sore sick, thinking no less than to die; therefore I desired to speak with Latimer. It would not be. Then was I sent to Newgate in my extremity of sickness, for in all my life afore was I never in such pain. Thus the Lord strengthen you in the truth. Pray, pray, pray!" This touching faith in the efficacy of prayer, shows how bitterly the future martyr had been tried. In Newgate she employed herself, prohibited from any intercourse with her friends, in holy meditations and appeals to the supporting hand of the Almighty. Her purpose never was shaken, and she constantly fortified her resolution to endure the coming trial of her principles. On the 23rd, one of her relatives, Mr. Brittain, who had in vain offered bail for her re

H

appearance, visited her, and finding the condition she was in, urged it so forcibly that he obtained permission to become, with a Mr. Spilman, of Gray's Inn, her surety.

But she was within a very short period again apprehended, and summoned before the King's Council, when, being found still impracticable, she was remanded to Newgate, and shortly after sent thence to the Tower, where a final attempt was made to procure a deposition fatal to Lady Suffolk, Lady Herbert, and the queen, but without effect. "They asked me of my lady of Suffolk, my lady of Sussex, my lady of Hertford, my Lady Denny, and my Lady Fitzwilliams. I said that if I should pronounce anything against them, I were not able to prove it."

In Newgate, Anne's spirits had sustained her nobly. "Neither," she wrote, "do I wish death, nor yet fear his might. I am as merry as one that is bound towards heaven." In the Tower, gleams of brightness from above, irradiated the dreary walls of her prison, and strength, not of earth, animated her delicate frame. The fierce Wriothesley having procured a royal order, to proceed to the horrible extremity of the torture in Anne's case, this disgraceful expedient was not only carried into execution in his presence, but-to his lasting condemnation-by his very hands. The lieutenant of the Tower, horror-struck at the fiendish

you are about to sign with me, admonishing each of you to remember the compulsion, violence, and constraint employed against me upon the matter of this said marriage.

(Signed) "JEANNE DE NAVARRE,
"J. D'ARROS,

"FRANCES NAVARRO,

"ARNAULD DUQUESSE."

Although this document is said to have been both dictated and written by the princess, it seems probable she was assured of her father's secret approbation of her rebellion, if not actually aided by his advice in the course she pursued. Some deeper reason for this determined resistance appears to have existed than the mere contumacy of a child; though, bearing in mind Jeanne's subsequent conduct, it is quite possible that an antipathy might at this early period have been engendered, so decided as to justify her disobedience, where the happiness of her whole life was at stake. Had the duke been a Roman Catholic, we might have imagined religious scruples had some influence; but he, like Marguerite of Navarre, professed the tenets of the reformed faith. Jeanne herself had been brought up a Romanist; but we confess it seems to us possible she had long privately determined to profess the religion of her mother whenever opportunity offered. In any case, religion does not seem to have entered into her objections, nor can the nature of them, beyond the personal dislike she avowed, be determined.

Finding the king treated her opposition as childish,

and insisted upon the immediate accomplishment of her public betrothal, Jeanne calmly prepared to accompany her mother to Châtellerault, contenting herself with concocting a second memorial, which, like the first, was properly witnessed, and left in safe custody until it should be required. This paper similarly declared that only under violence would the pretended betrothal" take place, and that she hoped, "by God's help," the present document would one day avail her "to set aside such compulsory nuptials."

66

Far from being dazzled by the splendour and importance which invested her upon her arrival, or worn out by the commands and persuasions she met on all sides, the unwilling bride persevered up to the last moment in the opposition she had so boldly commenced. The marriage ceremony was, however, despite all, performed; nor did the refusal voluntarily to walk to the altar, avail, when, complaining of indisposition and the weight of her ornaments, the childish figure remained immovable, thereby exciting the great vexation of the French monarch. "The bride," says Brantôme, "being led to church, covered with gold and jewels, sunk under the weight of her robes. Francis, observing her unable to proceed, commanded the constable of Montmorenci to bear her in his arms." In this manner she reached the chapel. A grand ball, banquets, jousts, and pageants, followed the ceremony; such brilliancy characterizing all, that the festivities were talked of, as the most