“Your highness has brought this upon yourself, I must needs say,” observed Sir John Gage to the lord protector.
“In regard to my confession,” pursued Norfolk, “no one knows better than thou dost, Edward Seymour, by what devices it was wrested from me, and if it shall please the king’s Majesty to question me, I will explain why I was led to make acknowledgment of crimes whereof I was guiltless, and to sue for pardon when I ought to have been honorably absolved. Faults I may have had—as who amongst us is free from them?—but want of fidelity and devotion to my late royal master—on whose soul may Jesu have mercy!—was not amongst them. Witness for me the victories I have won for him over the Scots and French. Witness my wounds received at the siege of Jedworth and the assault and taking of Montdidier. Witness for me my expedition to Ireland, now some five-and-twenty years ago, when you, my lord protector, were humble enough, and proud of a smile from me—witness, I say, that expedition, wherein I succeeded in compelling the submission of O’Moore, and in pacifying the insurgents—for the which I received my sovereign’s grateful thanks. Witness for me my missions to Francis the First, to prevent a complete rupture with his Holiness the Pope. My royal master was well pleased with me on both occasions, and so I may presume was the French king also—seeing that the latter decorated me with the collar of St. Michael. The collar is gone, but ye cannot say I had it not. Witness also for me the quelling of the dangerous rebellion in the North, and the dispersion of the so-called Pilgrimage of Grace. Owing to my determined measures it was, that a second insurrection was crushed. My royal master thanked me then, and termed me ‘his right hand.’ Witness for me five-and-thirty years passed wholly in my master’s service. Witness full fourteen years passed in the service of that master’s father. And, if it had been permitted me, the remainder of my days should have been spent in the service of my master’s royal son, whom Jesu preserve!”
“I thank your Grace with all my heart,” said Edward.
“The best counsel my judgment could furnish hath been ever offered to your august father, sire,” pursued Norfolk; “and it was offered disinterestedly. On more than one occasion I have poured out my best blood for him, and I would joyfully pour out the rest for your Majesty.”
“What says your Highness to this?” demanded Edward of the lord protector.
“In enumerating his services to his sovereign,” replied Hertford, “the Duke of Norfolk hath carefully omitted all mention of the pernicious counsels given by him against the professors of the Reformed faith, and of the secret efforts he hath made to bring the Church again under subjection to the See of Rome. He has forgotten to state that he was the principal deviser of the sanguinary Statute of the Six Articles, and that he was the grand persecutor of all professing the new opinions. Neither has he stated that in his last expedition to Scotland, in 1542, when he went thither as captain-general of the forces at the head of twenty thousand men, the campaign was without result, and the king deeply dissatisfied with him. Equally inglorious would have been the expedition to France in 1544, had not the king conducted it in person.”
“At that time my enemies were at work against me,” said Norfolk. “They envied me my master’s favor, and were resolved to rob me of it. Foremost amongst my detractors and enemies hast thou ever been, O Edward Seymour! The axe has been laid by thee at the root of one of the goodliest trees that ever grew on English soil, and thou hast hewn it down remorselessly. Beware of the axe thyself! Thou hast robbed me of my brave and chivalrous son Surrey, the soul of honor and loyalty! Never shall he be replaced! Never shall the young king’s Highness find such another, search where he may! I weep for my son,” he continued, in a broken voice, “though I weep not for myself. A father’s curse light on thee, Edward Seymour!”