DIVISIONS OF THE HOWARDS.
Mistress Holland was examined first. She deposed that the duke had said to her 'that the king was sickly, and could not long endure; and the realm like to be in an ill case through diversity of opinions.' The duchess of Richmond deposed 'that the duke her father would have had her marry Sir Thomas Seymour, brother to the earl of Hertford, which her brother also desired, wishing her withal to endear herself so into the king's favor, as she might the better rule here as others had done; and that she refused.'[470] This deposition appears to corroborate one of the charges brought against Norfolk by the chancellor. Nevertheless, the supposition that a father, from ambitious motives, could urge his daughter to consent to incestuous intercourse is so revolting, that one can hardly help asking whether there really was any thing more in the case than an exercise of the natural influence of a daughter-in-law over her father-in-law. The duchess corroborated the accusation touching the royal arms borne by Surrey, his hatred of the Seymours, and the ill which he meditated doing them after the king's death; and she added that he had urged her not to carry too far the reading of the Holy Scriptures.
Various other depositions having been taken, the duke and his son were declared guilty of high treason (January 7). On the 13th, Surrey was tried before a jury at Guildhall. He defended himself with much spirit; but he was condemned to death; and this young nobleman, only thirty years of age, the idol of his countrymen, was executed on Tower Hill, January 21.[471] Public feeling was shocked by this act of cruelty, and every one extolled the high qualities of the earl. His sister, the duchess of Richmond, took charge of his five children, and admirably fulfilled her duty as their aunt.[472]
NORFOLK'S APPEAL TO THE KING.
The king was now dangerously ill, but he showed no signs of tenderness. People said that he had never hated nor ruined any one by halves; and he was determined, after the death of the eldest son, to sacrifice the father. Norfolk was very much surprised to find himself a prisoner in the Tower, to which he had consigned so many prisoners. He wrote to the lords to let him have some books, for he said that unless he could read he fell asleep. He asked also for a confessor, as he was desirous of receiving his Creator; and for permission to hear mass and to walk outside his apartment in the daytime. At the age of seventy-three, after having taken the lead in the most cruel measures of the reign of Henry VIII., from the death of Anne Boleyn to the death of Anne Askew, he now found that the day of terror was approaching for himself. His heart was agitated and fear chilled him. He knew the king too well to have any hope that the great and numerous services which he had rendered to him would avail to arrest the sword already suspended over his head. Meanwhile the prospect of death alarmed him; and in his distress he wrote from his prison in the Tower to his royal master:—'Most gracious and merciful sovereign lord, I, your most humble subject, prostrate at your foot, do most humbly beseech you to be my good and gracious lord.... In all my life I never thought one untrue thought against you or your succession, nor can no more judge or cast in my mind what should be laid to my charge than the child that was born this night.... I know not that I have offended any man... unless it were such as are angry with me for being quick against such as have been accused for sacramentaries.' And fancying that he detected the secret motive of his trial, he added: 'Let me recover your gracious favor, with taking of me all the lands and goods I have, or as much thereof as pleaseth your Highness.'[473]
The charges brought against Norfolk and Surrey were mere pretexts. No notice having been taken of the letter just cited, the old man, who was anxious by any means to save his life, determined to humble himself still further. On January 12, nine days before the death of Surrey, in the hope of satisfying the king, he made, in the presence of the members of the privy council, the following confession:—'I, Thomas, duke of Norfolk, do confess and acknowledge myself... to have offended the king's most excellent majesty, in the disclosing... of his privy and secret counsel... to the great peril of his Highness.... That I have concealed high treason, in keeping secret the false and traitorous act... committed by my son... against the king's majesty... in the putting and using the arms of Edward the Confessor,... in his scutcheon or arms.... Also, that to the peril, slander, and disinherison of the king's majesty and his noble son, Prince Edward, I have... borne in the first quarter of my arms ... the arms of England.... Although I be not worthy to have ... the king's clemency and mercy to be extended to me,... yet with a most sorrowful and repentant heart do beseech his Highness to have mercy, pity, and compassion on me.'[474]
All was fruitless; Norfolk must die like the best servants and friends of the king, like Fisher, Sir Thomas More, and Cromwell. But the duke could not be condemned with so little formality as Surrey. The king, therefore, assembled the parliament; a bill was presented to the House of Lords, and the three readings were hurried through on January 18, 19, 20. The bill, sent down to the Commons, was passed by them, and was sent back on the 24th. Although it was customary to reserve the final step to the close of the session, the king, who was in haste, gave his assent on Thursday the 27th, and the execution of Norfolk was fixed for the morning of the next day. All the preparations for this last act were made during the night; and but a few moments were to intervene before this once powerful man was to be led to the scaffold.
Two victims were now awaiting the remorseless scythe of destiny. Death was approaching at the same time the threshold of the palace and that of the prison. Two men who had filled the world with their renown, who during their lifetime had been closely united, and were the foremost personages of the realm, were about to pass the inexorable gates and to be bound with those bonds which God alone can burst. The only question was which of the two would be the first to receive the final stroke. The general expectation was, no doubt, that Norfolk would be the first, for the executioner was already sharpening the axe which was to smite him.
LAST HOURS OF HENRY VIII.
While the duke, still full of vigorous life, was awaiting in his dungeon the cruel death which he had striven so much to avert, Henry VIII. was prostrate on his sick bed at Whitehall. Although every thing showed that his last hour was at hand, his physicians did not venture to inform him of it; as it was against the law for any one to speak of the death of the king. One might have said that he was determined to have himself declared immortal by act of parliament. At length, however, Sir Antony Denny, who hardly ever left him, took courage and, approaching the bedside of the dying monarch, cautiously told him that all hope, humanly speaking, was lost, and entreated him to prepare for death. The king, conscious of his failing strength, accused himself of various offences, but added that the grace of God could forgive him all his sins. It has been asserted that he did really repent of his errors. 'Several English gentlemen,' says Thevet, 'assured me that he was truly repentant, and among other things, on account of the injury and crime committed against the said queen (Anne Boleyn).'[475] This is not certain; but we know that Denny, glad to hear him speak of his sins, asked him whether he did not wish to see some ecclesiastic. 'If I see any one,' said Henry, 'it must be Archbishop Cranmer.' 'Shall I send for him?' said Denny. The king replied: 'I will first take a little sleep, and then, as I feel myself, I will advise upon the matter.' An hour or two later the king awoke, and finding that he was now weaker, he asked for Cranmer. The archbishop was at Croydon; and when he arrived the dying man was unable to speak, and was almost unconscious. However, when he saw the primate, he stretched out his hand, but could not utter a word. The archbishop exhorted him to put all his trust in Christ and to implore his mercy. 'Give some token with your eyes or hand,' he said, 'that you trust in the Lord.' The king wrung Cranmer's hand as hard as he could, and soon after breathed his last. He died at two o'clock in the morning, Friday, January 28, 1547.[476]