The Sun.
London, England, 1861-08-09 00:00:00

HENRY VIII.

Engendered in his frame by want of exercise, and
nourished by gross self-indulgence, disease made rapid fear-
ful progress. Ere long he had become so corpulent, and his
limbs were so much swollen, that he was almost incapable
of movement. Such was his weight that machinery had to
be employed to raise him or place him in a chair. Doors
were widened to allow him passage. He could not repose
on a couch, from fear of suffocation ; and unceasing anguish
was occasioned by a deep and incurable ulcer in the leg.
Terrible was he to behold at this period. Terrible to hear
were his cries of rage and pain, which resembled the roar-
ing of a wild beast. His attendants came nigh him with
reluctance and affright, for the slightest inadvertence drew
down dreadful imprecations and menaces on their heads.
But the lion, though sick to death, was a lion still. While
any life was left in him Henry would not abate a jot of the
sovereign power he had exercised. Though his body was
a mass of disease his faculties were vigorous as ever ; his
firmness was unshaken, his will absolute. To the last he
was true to himself. Inexorable he had been, and inexor-
able he remained. His thirst for vengeance was insatiable
as ever, while his suspicions were more quickly aroused
and sharper than heretofore. But during this season of
affliction, vouchsafed him, perhaps, for repentance for his
numerous and dire offences, there was no endeavour to re•
concile him with man or to make peace with heaven;
neither was there any outward manifestation of remorse.
The henchmen and pages stationed at the door of his
chamber during the long hours of night, and half slumber-
ing at their posts, with other watchers by his side, were
often appalled by the fearful groans of the restless king.
But these might be wrested from him by pain, and weren-,proof that conscience pricked him. Not a word escaped
his lips to betoken that sleep Wr.s scared away by the
spectres of his countless victims. What passed within that
dark and inscrutable breast no man could tell.
' Several of Mr. Ainsworth's imaginary characters ,

familiar now for many years past in the popu-
lar remembrance, reappear upon the scene, and
move with their familiar air among the numerous
• historic personages introduced : conspicuous among
these creations being Og, Geg, and Magog, the
the giant Warders of the Tower, and with them
little Xit, their dwarf companion. Here is another
whose grimly features will be at once recognised:
MAUGER, THE HEADSMAN.
The upper part of his frame was strongly, though not
stoutly built, the arms being remarkably muscular, but his
_
lower limbs were less powerful, and he seemed to be halt of
the right leg. His physiognomy was singularly repulsive,
the nose being broad and flat, and the eyes fierce and blood-
shoot ; the forehead bald, and the hue of the skin dull and
earthy. His cheeks were clothed with a shaggy black
beard, and the sable locks left on either side of his heed
were wild and unkempt. His habiliments were of red
serge, but above his doublet he wore a leathern jerk's'
which was sullied with dark stains, as if of gore. 011
right hip he carried a broad two-edged knife, protected 11
a sheath. But the implement that proclaimed his revolt-
ing office was an executioner's axe. This he had net the
grace to lay aside, but continued to lean upon it while etai:rd
ing before the King. Another axe, similar in sio
form, was reared against the wall, and near it stood 3
handed sword, sometimes, though but rarely, employed:
capital punishment. When the headsman arose, it install,h'i
became apparent that the seat he had occupied was
block—and, moreover, that it was a block which had 'cc--
frequently used.
Mauger, boasting the possession of a rag
power by means of which he can predict f°l3;
a man's face whether his head shall fall by he
hand of the executioner, the following scene
sues, a scene thus vividly described Kaid
" I will go at first, having neither fear nor faith,'
the Constable. And he did as Mauger had directed. f"",;..
looking fixedly at him for a moment, the executioner el'
served with a grim smile, " your head will never be '
Sir John." " I never deemed it would, thou fell holinAL"o
replied the Constable, turning away. " I will malte;iy-
next assay," said Sir Thomas Seymour, stepping liP,rie
forward, and placing his foot gracefully on the block• a
headsman fixed his eyes keenly on him for a moment/ and
then struck the flag with his axe. A hollow and ontittedL
sound was returned by the stone, as if the repose of 1".;
dead had been disturbed. " That signifies that thou 81.1
to handle me on the scaffold, thou vile caitiff—hay" enee
Seymour, with a contemptuous laugh. sc my nerves 9-
unshaken. Does your highness hesitate ?" he added'
turning to the Lord Protector. " Not I, forsooth,''
turned Hertford, taking his place. " I have no moreni
giving than yourself." " Desist, I pray your highneo
like it not," cried Edward. " Nay, I must needs dieebed
your grace, or my brother will say I am afraid," retailed
Hertford. " That shall I, and think so too," oried Ser
mour. " I pray your highness look me straight in itea
face," said Mauger. And as the Lord Protector coralwAo
he again struck the stone with his axe, occasioning P.,4
same hollow resonance as before. " Soh I your highee-
is likewise doomed 1" exclaimed Sir Thomas Seyoi
with a laugh. "It would appear so," rejoined Hertfordii
with a forced smile. " Let me see what my destiny
be," said Lord Lisle, advancing. And, setting WS 6
on the block, he gazed with exceeding sternness at
Aa
headsman, hoping to terrify him. Mauger, however, %if
not quail before the look, but, after a brief scrutiny
the other's countenance, again smote the stone with thi,6
fatal axe. This time the sound proceeding from
flag was deeper and more awful than on the Feed'''.
occasions.
How the prediction as to Seymour is at long
fulfilled, let the subjoined fragment of Mr. Ain"-
worth's resplendent narrative relate :
Owing to the precautions taken by the Constable, soy,
mour was brought to the scaffold in safety, and when h$
soon afterwards mounted the steps and appeared upon
tremendous shout arose from the beholders. Hitherto
tht
day had been dull and gloomy, but at that moment a slifilv,
burst of sunshine fell upon him, and illumining :Ili° rl°hgt
countenance rendered him yet more conspicuous to the Not
assemblage whose eyes were strained towards him•
in his proudest moments had he looked more majestic 00
he did now that he stood upon those fatal boards, nor P.eolir
haps, for one instant, more elated. But the smile
had played upon his features quickly faded away', ee --410
the sunshine that had lighted them up, and left them
and rigid-looking as marble. He had been preceded 111)°-
the scaffold by the Constable and the Lieutenant, togethef
with Manger. By this time Latimer had mounted the
steps, and stood beside him. No other person was all°,
upon the scaffold. It had been the Admiral's intention ""6
address the crowd, and for this purpose he advanced toWardo
the front of the scaffold, and, bowing to the bystanders, bege-_,
to speak; but such a tumult arose, and so many vociferation:
were raised, that his words werecompletely drowned, and h
yielded—though with manifest reluctance—to the Con'
stable's entreaties to him to desist. Taking off his cap, h°
cried in a sonorous voice, that rose loud above the disturb:
ance, "Long live King Edward 1" The shout was received
with acclamations, followed by fresh groans and hooting'
against the Lord Protector. Latimer then approached bite'
and asked if he sincerely repented his sins and placed hie
hope in the Saviour. But Seymour scarcely heeding biro,
and anxious, as it seemed, to get done with the scene, called
fiercely to the executioner to make haste, and throwing of
his gown, revealed a figure which, for symmetry, was un-
rivalled. Again Latimer approached him, and was atgeil.
repulsed. Seymour then knelt down, and deep silence fell
upon the multitude. His prayers, which did not oceoll
many minutes, being ended, he signed to Mauger that he
was ready. Then approaching the block he knelt down
beside it, took the broidered handkerchief sent him ba
Elizabeth from his doublet, pressed his lips to it, an
fastened it over his eyes. At this moment Latimer e',
vanced and cried out in his ear, " Repent 1" "Away r
cried the Admiral, "you distract me I" He then laid I°s
comely neck upon the block, and the axe descended. °tit,
perished the guilty and aspiring Seymour. Ac,oording
Latimer, he died " very dangerously, irksomely, 'lorriblYit
Others, however, judged him more charitably, and th?llg
he made a brave ending. fi
c 0
And we certainly cannot but recognise the j
of that comment pronounced upon this tragic' tore
mination to the life of Seymour, that impress', 0
and judicial comment of the National Hist°lls
—" This tragedy has left a deep stain upon the ,
mory of Somerset and Latimer. Somerset sacri,
ficed a brother to ward off the danger of a ri,.11;
Latimer prostituted his holy office to sanotilf,
deed of cruelty and injustice." As contrasting PI e
Lures to the foregoing and to themselves, We
give by way of final quotations—passages descriPl'e
of Seymour's last love scene (at once a love see%
and a death scene) with Queen Catherine; 9'llo
after it in rapid sequence, frightfully rapid a 5 tll
incident came itself, one of Seymour's many 10'

scenes with the Princess Elizabeth. Here 10----

CATHERINE'S DEATHBED. yi
"Have you any further injunctions for me, Catherine •
inquired Seymour.
" Only this," she replied.. " Be kind to the little iell;
cent I have so lately brought into the world. I do e°
think it will live long to trouble you."
" While I am spared to watch over it, it shall necer
want a father's love. But you indulge in sad foreboding*
Catherine, none of which, I trust, will be realised. Has
eb
better heart in regard to yourself. You are not so dance
gerously ill as you suppose."
"All is well-nigh over with me, Seymour," she gre3l3l
" Give me your hand. Mine has been a wretched life, r
I am not sorry it draws to a close. Vainly have I looked
happiness in the married state--in each instance I Ji!,/:.
been disappointed, but in none so deeply, and so virof'-',.;
as in the last. The disappointment has been all the 91%;
bitter because I expected so much. Who would bel,iv.e
that ono so richly graced in mind and body as you, t3.„,,/,'s
mour, could be so faithless, so cruel ? Even
tyranny has been less terrible than yours." r
die
" What have I done, Catherine ? ' cried Seymour'
tractedly. " What have I done ?"
mi
1
"You have killed me," she replied, raising herself "t
last effort, and fixing her eyes upon him, "if not by P°l°°-
by unkindness."
"Oh unsay your words, Catherine," he exclaireej.
" Recal that dreadful accution." t
But it was out of her powsaer to recal it. The fierce 1..4
that burnt for a moment in her eyes became suddenly
tinct—the hue of her features changed to that of dew;
and with a groan she sank backwards. The unbell•l
queen's troubles were over.
With a loud cry Seymour flung himself on his knees b°,;
side her, and, clasping her hand, cried in a laraeutaT„
voice, " Look down upon me, Catherine, and forgive le° to
His grief was real. His nature was not all evil, and tto
good within was for the moment touched. A Prey
keenest self-reproach, if it had been in his power to reed
his unhappy wife to existence, at that moment he svoill

have dono so.
''
Here in horrid contrast is the love scene between

SEYMOUR AND ELIZABETII.
Elizabeth was then residing at Hatfield, and thitlicci
aboutvencdeseamonthafterhai.s return to town the Admiral rodeo
attended only by ug His visit was not unexpected, tj:
d h
pesi having
been prepared for it by a letter. she "
m very graciously, and after some little discours;
Mistress Ashley, by whom she was attended, discreet,,lle
withdrew. No sooner were they alone together than the
Admiral, flinging himself on his knees before her, all
seizing her hand, exclaimed, in passionate tones, I ar,
come to claim you, Elizabeth. There is now no obstacle "..
our union. The bar that stood between us is roniovea
You will be mie—mine I"
" Not clandes tninely, as you propos in your letter, ray lord
she rejoined. " I will never consent to secret nuptiaP:
such as took place between you and the queen. On that
am decided, so you will strive in vain to move mo."
" Your decision amounts to a refusal," cried Seynr
_
"Were I to demand your hand formally in marria,
neither the Lord Protector, nor the Council, nor eveat te raia,
King, your brOther, would consent. Such an
would be mdness, and would effectually frustrate ourZa
a ject, YOU have often told me you hoped the tilne