The Last Will and Testament of Henry VIII: a Question of Perspective

Abstract

That mighty prince, Henry VIII, died on Friday, the 28th of January, 1547, at two of the morning. The final years of the reign had been moving ponderously and inexorably to this moment when the King must die. The instant, however, that Henry slipped from life into death, a fundamental change took place. Not only was an irascible old man gone but so also was the dread and anxiety that had surrounded the concluding months of the King's life. For half a decade Tudor England had lived with the terrible certainty that Henry's reign was drawing to a close and the equally terrible uncertainty of not knowing when death would claim its sovereign. Thrice within the final year, in March, October, and December, Henry had approached death and had drawn away. No prediction could be secure, no plan assured so long as the moment of death remained unrecorded.If Henry's death cleared the air and dispersed the atmosphere of fear and insecurity enveloping those who attended upon his passing, it also introduced a new and befuddling note for those who must record and narrate his departure. The ultimate irony of the historical profession is that the historian is a victim of his own knowledge; the breadth of his vision backward through the glass of time distorts his image of the past. He knows when, where and how the old King died; he can even date the event to the hour. In contrast, those who so impatiently awaited or dreaded the sovereign's demise could only speculate and form their plans upon the slender thread of surmise.