But Henry’s tyrannical disposition, soured by ill health, burst out soon after to the destruction of a man who possessed a much superior rank to that of Gardiner. The duke of Norfolk and his father, during this whole reign, and even a part of the foregoing, had been regarded as the greatest subjects in the kingdom, and had rendered considerable service to the crown. The duke himself had in his youth acquired reputation by naval enterprises: he had much contributed to the victory gained over the Scots at Flouden: he had suppressed a dangerous rebellion in the north; and he had always done his part with honor in all the expeditions against France. Fortune seemed to conspire with his own industry in raising him to the greatest elevation. From the favors heaped on him by the crown he had acquired an immense estate: the king had successively been married to two of his nieces; and the king’s natural son, the duke of Richmond, had married his daughter; besides his descent, from the ancient family of the Moubrays, by which he was allied to the throne, he had espoused a daughter of the duke of Buckingham, who was descended by a female from Edward III.; and as he was believed still to adhere secretly to the ancient religion, he was regarded, both abroad and at home, as the head of the Catholic party. But all these circumstances, in proportion as they exalted the duke, provoked the jealousy of Henry; and he foresaw danger, during his son’s minority, both to the public tranquillity, and to the new ecclesiastical system, from the attempts of so potent a subject. But nothing tended more to expose Norfolk to the king’s displeasure, than the prejudices which Henry had entertained against the earl of Surrey, son of that nobleman.
Surrey was a young man of the most promising hopes, and had distinguished himself by every accomplishment which became a scholar, a courtier, and a soldier. He excelled in all the military exercises which were then in request: he encouraged the fine arts by his patronage and example: he had made some successful attempts in poetry; and being smitten with the romantic gallantry of the age, he celebrated the praises of his mistress by his pen and his lance, in every masque and tournament. His spirit and ambition were equal to his talents and his quality; and he did not always regulate his conduct by the caution and reserve which his situation required. He had been left governor of Boulogne when that town was taken by Henry; but though his personal bravery was unquestioned, he had been unfortunate in some rencounters[**misspelling] with the French. The king, somewhat displeased with his conduct, had sent over Hertford to command in his place; and Surrey was so imprudent as to drop some menacing expressions against the ministers, on account of this affront which was put upon him. And as he had refused to marry Hertford’s daughter, and even waived every other proposal of marriage, Henry imagined that he had entertained views of espousing the lady Mary; and he was instantly determined to repress, by the most severe expedients, so dangerous an ambition.
Actuated by all these motives, and perhaps influenced by that old disgust with which the ill conduct of Catharine Howard had inspired him against her whole family, he gave private orders to arrest Norfolk and Surrey; and they were on the same day confined in the Tower. Surrey being a commoner, his trial was the more expeditious; and as to proofs, neither parliaments nor juries seem ever to have given the least attention to them in any cause of the crown during this whole reign.
1547.
He was accused of entertaining in his family some Italians who were suspected to be spies; a servant of his had paid a visit to Cardinal Pole in Italy, whence he was suspected of holding a correspondence with that obnoxious prelate; he had quartered the arms of Edward the Confessor on his scutcheon, which made him be suspected of aspiring to the crown, though both he and his ancestors had openly, during the course of many years, maintained that practice, and the heralds had even justified it by their authority. These were the crimes for which a jury, notwithstanding his eloquent and spirited defence, condemned the earl of Surrey for high treason; and their sentence was soon after executed upon him.
The innocence of the duke of Norfolk was still, if possible, more apparent than that of his son; and his services to the crown had been greater. His duchess, with whom he lived on bad terms, had been so base as to carry intelligence to his enemies of all she knew against him: Elizabeth Holland, a mistress of his, had been equally subservient to the designs of the court; yet with all these advantages, his accusers discovered no greater crime than his once saying, that the king was sickly, and could not hold out long; and the kingdom was likely to fall into disorders, through the diversity of religious opinions. He wrote a pathetic letter to the king, pleading his past services and protesting his innocence: soon after, he embraced a more proper expedient for appeasing Henry, by making a submission and confession, such as his enemies required; but nothing could mollify the unrelenting temper of the king. He assembled a parliament, as the surest and most expeditious instrument of his tyranny; and the house of peers, without examining the prisoner, without trial or evidence, passed a bill of attainder against him, and sent it down to the commons. Cranmer, though engaged for many years in an opposite party to Norfolk, and though he had received many and great injuries from him, would have no hand in so unjust a prosecution; and he retired to his seat at Croydon.[*] The king was now approaching fast towards his end; and fearing lest Norfolk should escape him, he sent a message to the commons, by which he desired them to hasten the bill, on pretence that Norfolk enjoyed the dignity of earl marshal, and it was necessary to appoint another, who might officiate at the ensuing ceremony of installing his son prince of Wales. The obsequious commons obeyed his directions, though founded on so frivolous a pretence; and the king having affixed the royal assent to the bill by commissioners, issued orders for the execution of Norfolk on the morning of the twenty-ninth of January. But news being carried to the Tower that the king himself had expired that night, the lieutenant deferred obeying the warrant; and it was not thought advisable by the council to begin a new reign by the death of the greatest nobleman in the kingdom, who had been condemned by a sentence so unjust and tyrannical.
The king’s health had long been in a declining state; but for several days all those near him plainly saw his end approaching. He was become so froward, that no one durst inform him of his condition; and as some persons during this reign had suffered as traitors for foretelling the king’s death,[**] every one was afraid lest, in the transports of his fury, he might on this pretence punish capitally the author of such friendly intelligence. At last, Sir Anthony Denny ventured to disclose to him the fatal secret, and exhorted him to prepare for the fate which was awaiting him. He expressed his resignation, and desired that Cranmer might be sent for; but before the prelate arrived, he was speechless, though he still seemed to retain his senses. Cranmer desired him to give some sign of his dying in the faith of Christ. He squeezed the prelate’s hand, and immediately expired, after a reign of thirty-seven years and nine months; and in the fifty-sixth year of his age.
* Burnet, vol. i. p. 348. Fox.
** Lanquet’s Epitome of Chronicles in the year 1541.
The king had made his will near a month before his demise; in which he confirmed the destination of parliament, by leaving the crown first to Prince Edward, then to the lady Mary, next to the lady Elizabeth: the two princesses he obliged, under the penalty of forfeiting their title to the crown, not to marry without consent of the council which he appointed for the government of his minor son. After his own children, he settled the succession on Frances Brandon, marchioness of Dorset, eldest daughter of his sister, the French queen; then on Eleanor, countess of Cumberland, the second daughter In passing over the posterity of the queen of Scots, his eldest sister, he made use of the power obtained from parliament, but as he subjoined that, after the failure of the French queen’s posterity, the crown should descend to the next lawful heir, it afterwards became a question, whether these words could be applied to the Scottish line. It was thought that these princes were not the next heirs after the house of Suffolk, but before that house; and that Henry, by expressing himself in this manner, meant entirely to exclude them. The late injuries which he had received from the Scots, had irritated him extremely against that nation; and he maintained to the last that character of violence and caprice by which his life had been so much distinguished. Another circumstance of his will may suggest the same reflection with regard to the strange contrarieties of his temper and conduct: he left money for masses to be said for delivering his soul from purgatory; and though he destroyed all those institutions established by his ancestors and others for the benefit of their souls, and had even left the doctrine of purgatory doubtful in all the articles of faith which he promulgated during his later years, he was yet determined, when the hour of death was approaching, to take care at least of his own future repose, and to adhere to the safer side of the question.[*]
* See his will in Fuller, Heylin, and Rymer, p. 110. There
is no reasonable ground to suspect its authenticity.