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The Pilgrimage Ends

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Naraku

Draconarius
A little Thanksgiving/End of the year offering. It's a a BATS story, but without an actual stake.


The Pilgrimage Ends

by

Naraku

Historical Disclaimer: This story is based on XVI Century English history as presented in the Showtime TV series "The Tudors". In that series, Robert Aske was portrayed as a middle aged man with a wife and two children. For the purpose of this story, I have altered the age and gender of one of the children. The real Aske was in his mid-thirties at the time of his execution. He was unmarried and had no known children. All characters and events depicted in this story are fictional. However, I have attempted to maintain historical accuracy concerning the political and religious background.

Tuesday, 2 October, 1537

The crowd had been gathering in Smithfield all morning. Although the butchers and meat shops were doing a brisk business, their wares were not the main attraction. As was often the case in these turbulent times, the crowd was drawn not by the flesh of butchered animals, but the spectacle of the butchering of humans. For, today was the day of an execution. And, although the details were unknown to most of the citizens, this promised to be an unusual event.

A popular uprising had broken out in Yorkshire the previous year. It's leaders had given it the name "The Pilgrimage of Grace". Although fueled by many economic and social grievances, it's principal motivation was resistance to the religious reforms Cromwell had instituted, especially the dissolution of the monasteries. The movement swelled into a peasant army of over 40,000. Charged with ending the rebellion, the Duke of Norfolk had negotiated terms with the leaders of the Pilgrimage. But, he had not been given authority to do so and therefore the King - and Cromwell - refused to ratify the agreement. Whisperings began that Norfolk was a rebel sympathizer. When Norfolk's promises were not kept, the rebellion broke out again in February. This time, knowing his reputation - and his life - was on the line, Norfolk struck ruthlessly and crushed the uprising. Hundreds were executed including the leaders. The most important leader was a lawyer named Robert Aske. On July 12, Aske was hanged chains at York , his body left to rot on the gallows as a warning to others.

A murmur of excitement began on the east side of the market and soon became as roar. A troop of soldiers, on foot and horseback, was pushing its way through the crowd; clearing a path for an ox cart. Standing in the cart were Hugh the executioner and his assistant, Jasper. Huddled together in the center of the cart were three female figures. Clasping each other's hands in a circle, their heads bowed together, each wearing only a plain grey chemise, their disheveled hair obscuring their faces; they seemed small, frail and pathetic.

The focus of attention was a structure that had been erected the previous day in the center of the market. Two stout wooden posts stood about 10 feet tall with a beam across the top spanning the 8 foot gap between them. Three ropes hung from the crossbeam at two foot intervals. A simple structure in front of each post supported planks forming a platform about four feet above the ground with a short ladder propped against one side. Bundles of branches and short logs had been staked between the posts up to the base of the platform and a large pile of more bundles was nearby.

As the crowd gathered along the temporary barricade that surrounded this strange structure, there was much speculation as to it's purpose. It was known the condemned were women convicted of treason and that the penalty for treason, when committed by a woman, was burning. It was also known that, in most cases, a woman would be strangled before the flames reached her as an act of mercy. Many had witnessed this in cases of women convicted of killing their husbands, which under English law was classed as "petty treason". As the structure before them resembled a gallows, most assumed the women were going to be hanged before the fagots were lit beneath them. But, some dissenting voices pointed out, the ropes hung loose and did not end in nooses. The small group of guardsmen within the barricade could offer no help; they were only there to maintain order. And, the executioners had not arrived yet.

The short, rotund man who stood among the throng at the barricade could have explained it all. But, no one in the crowd recognized him. And why would they? Although he was better dressed than most, he was not the only gentleman of means in Smithfield that day. The lure of the coming spectacle had drawn the attention of all ranks of London society. Beggars and merchants rubbed shoulders this day. There were even men and women of noble rank in the mass of humanity. There was nothing noteworthy about the man, and he preferred it that way. His occupation required a certain degree of anonymity. As an agent of the Lord Privy Seal, Sir Tobias Bribeaux preferred not to draw attention to himself. He was there only to observe and report. The Lord Privy Seal, Thomas Cromwell, Baron of Wimbledon, chief minister to Henry VIII, architect of the English Reformation, the second most powerful man in the Kingdom - some would argue, the most powerful - had a personal interest in the event scheduled for Smithfield this day.
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A popular uprising had broken out in Yorkshire the previous year. It's leaders had given it the name "The Pilgrimage of Grace". Although fueled by many economic and social grievances, it's principal motivation was resistance to the religious reforms Cromwell had instituted, especially the dissolution of the monasteries. The movement swelled into a peasant army of over 40,000. Charged with ending the rebellion, the Duke of Norfolk had negotiated terms with the leaders of the Pilgrimage. But, he had not been given authority to do so and therefore the King - and Cromwell - refused to ratify the agreement. Whisperings began that Norfolk was a rebel sympathizer. When Norfolk's promises were not kept, the rebellion broke out again in February. This time, knowing his reputation - and his life - was on the line, Norfolk struck ruthlessly and crushed the uprising. Hundreds were executed including the leaders. The most important leader was a lawyer named Robert Aske. On July 12, Aske was hanged chains at York , his body left to rot on the gallows as a warning to others.

A murmur of excitement began on the east side of the market and soon became as roar. A troop of soldiers, on foot and horseback, was pushing its way through the crowd; clearing a path for an ox cart. Standing in the cart were Hugh the executioner and his assistant, Jasper. Huddled together in the center of the cart were three female figures. Clasping each other's hands in a circle, their heads bowed together, each wearing only a plain grey chemise, their disheveled hair obscuring their faces; they seemed small, frail and pathetic.

While he was pleased the Pilgrimage had been crushed, Cromwell had some nagging concerns. The executions had shown the people in the North the folly of rebellion. But, what of the south of England? What of London? He knew there were many in the capital who disapproved of the new Church of England and the break with Rome. Furthermore, the populace needed assurance that the crown was capable of preserving order and dealing with those who defied its authority. The investigations of his agents in the North had reveled an opportunity for a display of that authority. Aske had a wife, Anne, and two daughters, Mary and Joan. Cromwell learned that all three had been active in the Pilgrimage. The daughters had served as messengers between the rebel cells and often acted as agents of their father in dealing with the other leaders. And Anne had given speeches in several Yorkshire hamlets, rallying people to the Pilgrimage banner.

Cromwell issued an order for their arrest. The women had been found quickly enough, staying with relatives near Doncaster. They were brought down to London in a curtained carriage under heavy guard and locked in The Tower. The trial before the Privy Council had been swift. They made no attempt to deny their guilt. Indeed, they seemed almost proud of their actions, claiming that they had followed their faith, their hearts and their duty as a wife and daughters. When the verdict and sentence of death by burning were read to them, only Joan, the youngest showed any sign of emotion, stifling a tear and hugging her mother.

Now, having completed the long journey across the city from The Tower, the cart entered the barricaded circle.
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The Chief Yeoman Warder of the Tower, who had ridden at the head of the escort, read out the sentence of the condemned. There were murmurings in the crowd, but no outcry of protest.

As soon as he was finished, Hugh and Jasper set about their work. They took hold of Joan, lifting the young woman out of the cart and leading her over to stand in front of the scaffold. Joan looked at the structure with the same confusion everyone else had that day. She was expecting a stake, not this gallows and pyre arrangement. But, she was given little time to contemplate this, as she was spun around to face the crowd. While Jasper stood behind, holding her by the elbows, Hugh stepped in front of her and seized her chemise at the collar. With one mighty tug, he ripped the front down to her waist. The startled girl let out a shrill cry as Hugh and Jasper pulled the garment off her arms and let it fall to the ground at her bare feet, leaving her completely naked. Her exposure was greeted by the crowd with whistles, cat calls, clapping, and a few cries of shock and even outrage.

Joan was certainly a fair sight to behold. She had a heart shaped face and curly flaxen hair that cascaded down her back and across her chest. Her skin was pale and white and nearly translucent. Barely into her eighteenth year, she still had the body of an adolescent. Her legs were long and slender. Her belly was flat and only a small patch of dark blond hair covered her pubic mound. Those on the other side got a view of her dimpled, round, almost boyish, buttocks. As she struggled in Jasper's grip, her hair moved aside revealing her small, firm breasts high upon her chest, capped by small brown nipples.

Blushing and weeping, she wanted to cover herself. But, Jasper held her arms out in front of her while Hugh pulled a thin rope from his belt. He quickly tied one end around her left wrist and the other around her right leaving about six inches in between. Hugh took hold of the rope and pulled Joan toward the scaffold. When she hesitated at the ladder, Jasper, who had been following, put his hand on her right buttock to force her up. This elicited a squeal of shock and outrage from Joan and a burst of laughter from the crowd.

She was pulled along the length of the platform to the first rope on the left. Hugh took her by the elbows and raised her arms above her head, lifting her until she stood on the balls of her feet. Then Jasper - who was the taller of the two men - tied the rope dangling above around the length of rope between her wrist, taking up the slack and stretching her arms straight over her head. He then pulled her hair behind her back, depriving her of her last bit of modesty. The executioners then left the platform. Hugh had to squeeze past Joan on the narrow walkway, and brushed his body against her naked skin and laid his hands on her hips. Whether he could have gotten past without doing so is debatable. But, the effect was to further humiliate the young woman, who was left exposed and sobbing.
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By now, the purpose of the wooden structure was becoming clear. It was also clear to Anne Aske what was going to happen when Hugh and Jasper pulled her from the ox cart.

Anne offered no resistance as she was brought in front of the scaffold and her chemise was ripped off. Unlike her daughter, Anne had the full figure of a mature woman of nearly forty years. Her body was fleshy, though not to the point of obesity. Her thighs and waist were thick and her hips wide. Her belly swelled somewhat above a thick, dark triangle of pubic hair. Her breasts were on the large side and, although sagging from the effects of time and gravity, still held a desirable shape. The same could be said of the buttocks viewed by the spectators behind her. Her round face showed some of the lines and folds of age and the distress of her recent life, but it could still be fairly described as handsome. Chestnut brown hair streaked with grey fell in waves over her shoulders. She stood with eyes closed, as if to block out the hoots and cheers of the crowd. Some were flattering in a crude and offensive manner, claiming they still found her desirable despite her age and describing what they wanted to do to her.

She willingly allowed Hugo to bind her wrist as he had Joan's and lead her up the ladder onto the scaffold. There was no need for Jasper to grab her buttocks and push up, but he did so anyway.

She was placed to Joan's left, beneath the center rope and her arms stretched and bound above her. When the executioners had left, Anne looked down at her weeping daughter - Joan being almost a head shorter than her mother - and said something to her. No one else could hear her words above the din of the crowd, but they caused Joan to smile and nod her head.
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Mary did not resist when they came for her. In fact, she almost leapt out of the cart. She strode to the place where her mother and sister had stood with Jasper barely able to hold onto her arm. When he tried to turn her around, she shrugged him off, then swiftly pulled her chemise over her head and flung it in his face. Unashamed by her nakedness, she turned to face the somewhat startled Hugh and held out her wrist to be bound. These acts provoked cheers and laughter from an appreciative crowd.

The crowd was appreciative of her beauty as well. Although only two years older than Joan, Mary had the body of fully developed woman still in the freshness of youth. She resembled her mother far more than her sister. In looking at Mary, one could imagine that this is what Anne had looked like twenty years earlier. Her long legs and firm thighs tapered outward toward rounded hips that then curved to a narrow waist. Curly dark hairs covered her pubic mound below her flat belly. Her breasts were round and firm and of a size and shape that, while large, did not seem disproportionate to her body. Her buttocks were round and firm. Waves of auburn hair fell over her shoulders, brushing the tops of her brown areolas and framing her freckled face.

Hugh bound her wrist and led Mary up the ladder where he and Jasper tied her arms above her head to the rope on her mother's left. As he passed behind her, Jasper grabbed and squeezed both her ass cheeks, making no effort to conceal the act this time. In response, Mary spit on him as he headed to the ladder and called him a "pig fucker" loudly enough for the crowd to laugh in response.

With the three women standing on the balls of their feet, bodies taut and arms stretched above their heads; Jasper removed the step ladder. Meanwhile, Hugh had walked to the far end of the scaffold and, after he returned from putting away the ladder in the oxcart, Jasper went back to the other end. Hugh counted to three and - to the surprise of many in the audience and especially to the ladies standing on it - they pulled the platform away, leaving the women hanging by their wrists.
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While women dangled, grimacing from the strain of their suspension, Hugh and Jasper set about laying fagots against the front and back of the wood pile. It was now clear to everyone - including the condemned - how this execution was to be performed. And, if anyone was still too slow to catch on or still had questions, it all became clear when the executioners lit torches and began igniting the wall of fagots at the front and back of the pyre.

The women watched in horror as the flames grow before them. And, although they could not see them, they could feel the heat of the fire rising behind them. The construction of the pyre meant that the women were not being directly touched as of yet. The crowd also watched; for the most part silently. There seemed to be a tension mixed with the smell of burning wood in the air.

The silence was broken when Anne began crying out, in a loud voice. Not a cry of anger or pain, but a prayer:

"Áve María, grátia pléna, Dóminus técum. Benedícta tu in muliéribus, et benedíctus frúctus véntris túi, Iésus. Sáncta María, Máter Déi, óra pro nóbis peccatóribus, nunc et in hóra mórtis nóstrae. Ámen."

She was joined in repeating the "Ave" by her daughters. A number of people in the crowd bowed their heads and crossed themselves, a few even murmuring the prayer to themselves. Sir Tobias took note of this.

The fourth repetition of the prayer was suddenly interrupted by a shriek from Joan. The wood directly below her had finally caught fire and the flames were grazing her feet. She kicked her legs up franticly in response. Anne was the next to feel the flames with Mary following seconds later. Now, all three were squealing and thrashing their legs in the air as the bed of fire grew beneath them.

The mood of the crowd suddenly changed. The prayers were now replaced by laughter and shouts of derision:

"Look at them dance!" "Kick them legs up, you Papist whores!" "Run bitches! The Devil's nipping your heels!"

Sir Tobias laughed as well. Not so much at the women, but at the fickled nature of the mob. The same mob that, just moments earlier had been praying along with these women, was now finding amusement in their suffering. Lord Cromwell had been right: never underestimate the cruelty of the public.
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The women did indeed seem to be dancing or trying to run as they kicked each leg up above the flames, with their motions causing them to swing back and forth at the end of the ropes that bound their wrists. But, their legs would swing back down into the flames, causing new pain to their already damaged feet and making them scream and kick again. They did not seem to be aware of the futility of their efforts, even as Hugh and Jasper began to toss smaller bundles of wood into the midst of the pyre, further feeding the flames. The three of them were panting and dripping with sweat as if they were running a race.

A solution to her problem must have occurred to Mary, as she pulled both legs up so that her knees were against her chest, raising them clear of the flames. The fact that this position offered those in front a clear view of her sex either escaped her notice or did not matter to her at this point; modesty no longer being an issue to her. She called out to her mother and sister to emulate her actions and save their feet. Anne did seem to try, but age and fatigue only allowed her to bring her legs to a sort of sitting position and she could only hold it for a few seconds before letting them fall back down, then pulling up again.

Joan may not have been able to hear Mary. She sought another escape. Twisting her lower body, she stretched her legs out toward the upright post on her right. With her feet barely able to touch. she tried to walk up the post. The rough wood abraded her feet, which were reddened and blistered from the fire. The pain could not have been much less than before, but the sobbing girl was too frantic to care. She succeeded in being able to hold herself in this position - legs outstretched, feet pressed against the wood - for a few seconds. Then, with a scream, her bloody feet slipped off, ripping away the skin of her blistered soles.

Her momentum sent Joan swinging into her mother, causing her to break off her third attempt to raise her legs. Both women's legs dropped down into the fire which, thanks to the constant tending of Hugh and Jasper, now reached as high as their thighs. Anne and Joan screamed and thrashed about wildly, no longer making any calculated effort to avoid the flames but only reacting to the blinding pain. As the greedy flames destroyed the flesh and nerves, they lost the ability to control their legs. Although they still moved, they were lifeless and swinging only from the impetus of the women's hips. The flames ignited Anne's dense pubic hairs, creating a secondary fire that burned her lower belly as well as her feminine parts. Joan's smaller crop of hairs burned much faster, but her shorter legs meant that the main fire was already working on her hips and buttocks and scorching her feminine parts.

Meanwhile, Mary was struggling valiantly to maintain her tucked position. But, the strain and intense heat were becoming too much for her. Seeing her mother and younger sister lose their battle, she must have decided that her own struggle was futile and it was better to give in than to fight the inevitable. Closing her eyes, she let her legs drop. She may have regretted the decision, as the fire began tearing away her skin, but she no longer had the strength to pull her legs back, even when her own pubic triangle began to burn.
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Joan's screams had become a sustained, rasping howl; the fire now reaching up to her waist. She may not have noticed as the ends of her long blond hair caught fire. She didn't seem to react as it burned up her back. But, when the flames reached her scalp, she began shrieking and thrashing her head about. Then, she suddenly stopped. With her head still aflame, her chin sank to her chest and all sound and movement ceased. Whether she was dead or had lost consciousness no one could tell. Either way, her struggles were over.

Anne was no longer making any sounds. She hung with her head back, staring blankly at the sky above. Only gasping breathes and spasmodic tremors showed that she still lived. Because she was at the center of the fire - growing more intense now as Hugh and Jasper were using pitchforks to feed it larger bundles of wood - the flames reached to just below her dangling breasts. When her hair caught and the flames rose around her head and face, she didn't seem to react at all. No one could say for certain at what point she died.

Mary's struggles seemed more intense, as she writhed and screamed well after her mother and sister had stopped. Then, with the flames waist high, her head fell forward and it seemed that she had finally died. But, when her hair, which hung down in front of her, caught fire, she suddenly began screaming wildly as the flames rose toward her face. And just as quickly, her frantic screaming stopped when her whole head became enveloped in fire.

Jasper and Hugh kept laying fagots into the growing bonfire. Soon, the blaze rose above the women's heads and their dark figures were barely distinguishable through the flames. Suddenly, the rope above Anne snapped and her body fell into the pyre producing a shower of sparks that force the executioners to jump back and brought a chorus of gasp and a few screams from the crowd - which had been largely silent for some time. Soon after, Mary fell, joining her mother below. The rope holding Joan's left arm burned through and for a few seconds her body hung suspended by her right arm. Then, the body fell. But, the right arm did not. It remained hanging from the crossbeam. Jasper used his pitchfork to poke at; a job made difficult by the intensity of the fire. Finally, after several attempts, the arm fell too.

With not much else to see, the crowd began to disperse. Hugh and Jasper would remain to mind the fire until it burned out. They would then gather the ashes as well as any recognizable bits of bone and dump them in the Thames, to guaranty that no one would collect them as relics.

Sir Tobias Bribeaux remained for a time, listening to the comments being made by the departing citizenry. Some were joking. Some were still making lewd comments. A few - mostly women - were weeping. Some expressed admiration for the women's fortitude and spirit, especially Anne and Mary. A few expressed disgust with the cruelty of the method of execution, while others claimed it was a fitting punishment for treason. No one, however, expressed sympathy with the women's cause nor condemned Lord Cromwell or the King for their execution.

Sir Tobias moved as swiftly as his short legs would carry him to rear of St Bartholomew's Church, where his carriage and driver had been waiting. He would soon be heading south down Fleet Street to The Strand on his way to the Palace of Whitehall, where his master awaited. He was sure that Lord Cromwell would be pleased to hear that the execution had been a success. By tomorrow the story would have been spread all over London and from there across the nation. There would be no doubt of the terrible price to be paid for rebellion nor the power of The Crown - and Lord Cromwell - to maintain order. With the last vestiges of The Pilgrimage of Grace snuffed out, Cromwell could now concentrate his attentions on more important affairs of state. Such as finding a new wife for King Henry. He had heard good things about the sister of the Duke of Cleves.
End
 
I want to note one deliberate anachronism:
Although the Ave Maria was being used as early as the XIII century; it included only the first two lines, which are extracts from the Gospels of Luke and Matthew:
Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee;
blessed art thou amongst women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
The second half first appeared in a book by Savanarola in 1499. It was accepted by the Council of Trent in 1555, but did not appear in the catechism until 1566.
While it is unlikely this would have been used by an English Catholic in 1537, I chose to include those lines because this form is the most familiar to both Catholics and non-Catholics today and because of the significance of the last lines in this situation:
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
 
I read it straight from the beginning to the end. A very good story, Naraku.The sad fate of these three women against tyranny of the crown is well described. Details are very good worked out. :clapping::clapping::clapping:
 
I read the whole thing in one sitting as well. Very gripping tale. The three women are well portrayed and believable, as is their fate. Heresy was often punished by burning, as I understand it - not sure about under Cromwell, but certainly under Mary Tudor (Bloody Mary). Well done!
 
The last burning at the stake for heresy in England was
Edward Wightman at Lichfield 1612 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Wightman 11.04.1612

After that, burning seems to have been a mode of execution reserved for women.
The last witch burnt in England was probably Joan Peterson at Smithfield 1652.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burning_of_women_in_England
in Scotland the last was:
Janet Horne at Dornoch 1727 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janet_Horne

However, burning was still the penalty for adultery, and 'petty treason' -
murdering your social superior, who could be your husband :rolleyes: The last was:
Catherine Murphy Newgate 1789
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_Hayes_(murderer)
As Wiki tells it, her execution was particularly bungled and horrible,
and burning was abolished by Parliament the following year.
 
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