beforehand that they were speculating upon a regency, and gentlemen were despatched into Norfolk before his apprehension got wind to take possession of the duke's house at Kenninghall, and to examine his friends there. The duke confessed that he was guilty at least of technical treason, especially in not having revealed the conduct of his son, who had altered the quarterings of his shield in a manner suitable only to an heir-apparent of the crown. But a far more hideous charge was brought against Surrey himself—that he had recommended his own sister, the Duchess of Richmond, the widow of the king's son, to become the king's mistress, by which she might obtain an influence in political matters similar to that of Madame d'Étampes in the court of Francis I. This charge seems to have been confirmed by the duchess herself, and is by no means the only evidence of the deep depravity of the court of Henry VIII. Parliament was summoned to meet in January 1547 for the purpose, among other things, of passing an act of attainder against Norfolk. On the 13th, the day before it met, Surrey was tried by a special commission at the Guildhall, and, being found guilty, was beheaded two days later on Tower Hill. Against Norfolk the bill of attainder passed both houses on the 27th, and was awaiting the royal assent when the king died at Westminster at midnight on 28 Jan. Henry, Foxe tells us, had been ‘loth to hear any mention of death.’ At the last Sir Anthony Denny obtained permission to send for Cranmer, but when the archbishop arrived the king was speechless. Cranmer asked him to give some token of his trust in Christ, and the dying man pressed his hand. Henry was buried at Windsor.
Henry's unique position among English kings is owing to the extraordinary degree of personal weight that he was able to throw into the government of the realm. Strictly speaking he was not an unconstitutional sovereign; all his doings were clothed with the form of legality. But the whole machinery of state, both legislative and executive, moved simply in accordance with his pleasure, and, however unpopular might be his government at home or his policy abroad, no one could venture to impugn his acts or could doubt his consummate statesmanship. The sentiment of loyalty, moreover, which was held to be superior to all ties of natural affection, was much stronger in those days than it has been in later times.
Besides the two leading acts of the Reformation, the establishment of the royal supremacy and the suppression of the monasteries, Henry was responsible for some smaller changes whose results were permanent. On Wolsey's fall he seized into his own hands the endowments of the cardinal's projected colleges at Ipswich and Oxford, completed the latter on a less munificent scale than was designed for it, and then assumed the honours of a founder, calling it Henry VIII's College instead of Cardinal's College. It is now known as Christ Church. Between 1540 and 1542 he erected six new bishoprics (Westminster, Oxford, Peterborough, Bristol, Gloucester, and Chester) out of some of the endowments of the suppressed monasteries. The first of these bishoprics continued only for ten years, and was dissolved by Edward VI. He also drew up a scheme, the draft of which remains in his own handwriting (MS. Cotton. Cleopatra, E. iv.), for a still further increase of the episcopate, and he obtained an act of parliament in 1536 for establishing a number of suffragans. In 1531 he began, for the gratification of Anne Boleyn, to lay out St. James's Park, which was approached by a long gallery across the street from Whitehall. This appears to have been done mainly by an exchange of lands with the abbey of Westminster and Eton College; but numbers of houses were demolished for the purpose without adequate compensation to the owners.
As an author Henry was by no means contemptible. His book against Luther (‘Assertio Septem Sacramentorum,’ published in 1521) was a scholastic performance of a rather conventional type; but it was the coinage of his own brain, and he had discussed its arguments, in the progress of the work, both with Wolsey and with More. It seemed, moreover, to Luther himself of sufficient weight to draw from him a somewhat angry though contemptuous rejoinder. Of course, in the composition of such a treatise Henry could easily command the aid of the best scholarship of the day, at all events to improve the style. To what extent he was thus aided we cannot tell. But we have the testimony of Erasmus to his own facility in Latin composition; and it is quite certain that in the numerous letters, manifestos, and treatises, both Latin and English, put forth in his name during his reign, his own hand is very often traceable. His skill in theological subtleties, no less than in threading the mazes of diplomacy, enabled him to take up a position that could not be successfully challenged, and secure himself alike against popes, emperors, and kings in the midst of a dangerous revolution stirred mainly by himself. The first articles of religion were printed in 1536 as ‘Articles devised by the King's Majesty.’ Next year appeared a more elaborate treatise entitled ‘The Institution of a Christian Man,’
