The failures in Scotland, religious discontent, and many untoward events, had shaken the Protector’s power, and his brother was working strenuously against him. Seymour was warned of his danger; he was told that his designs on the Princess, and his scheme of possessing himself of the person of the King were discovered; but he defied advice, remonstrance, and threats.
Again summoned before the Council, he again disobeyed. He appealed to the Earl of Warwick, on the plea that he was the enemy of the Protector, but Warwick said, if there were to be any change in the Government, it should not be for the advantage of another Seymour, and so he was arrested, and sent to the Tower. All his creatures and accomplices turned upon him, and gave evidence against him, all his intrigues and machinations were discovered; and two months after his committal the Council went to the Tower and caused thirty-three charges against the Lord High Admiral to be read aloud, in his presence. When called upon for an answer, he refused to give any, (though urged to speak on his allegiance,) and demanded an open trial.
The question now arose as to the manner of the trial, and the Chancellor and the rest of the Council gave their opinions for an Act of Attainder, while the Protector, pleading ‘what a sorrowful case this was for him, did yet rather regard his bounden duty to the King’s Majesty and the Crown of England than his own son or brother, and did weigh more his allegiance than his blood, and therefore he would not resist their Lordships.’
King Edward was present, and although his gentle nature always inclined to clemency, he gave his consent to the decision. Seymour was brought before a committee of both Houses, where he pleaded his own cause; but as the charges grew graver, he stopped short, and refused to say any more.
The next day the Bill was brought before the Lords, and passed without a dissenting voice, the Lord Protector only, ‘for natural pity’s sake, desiring licence to be away.’
Seymour had a small party of friends in the Commons, but having heard the evidence, the Lower House also passed the Bill. It was sent to the Crown with the request that justice might have place. The sentence was given without reference to the Protector, who would still have interfered to save the ungrateful brother whose inveterate hatred was unconquered, but he was prevented.
The Bishop of Ely visited the prisoner to bid him prepare for death, which he did, by writing to Elizabeth and Mary to incite them to conspire against the Duke.
He concealed the letters in the sole of his shoe, and his last words, as he knelt before the block, were to commission his servant to deliver them.
He died with a courage worthy a better cause. Bishop Latimer said of his death—‘Whether he be saved or no, I leave that to God. In the twinkling of an eye He can save a man, and turn his heart. What He did I cannot tell. And when a man hath two strokes with an axe, who can tell but between the two strokes he doth repent? It is hard to judge; but this I will say, if they ask me what I think of his death, I say that he died very irksomely, dangerously, and horribly.’
Latimer says elsewhere that the Admiral was a man furthest from the fear of God that ever he heard of in England. And yet in the picture in which we are treating there are verses that laud him to the skies. Not only his outward form—