the like." The sequel is well known, from the story having been dramatized by Shakspeare, in his "King Henry VIII.,' in order to introduce "Bluff Hal" to Anna Boleyn. The royal masquer soon after discovers himself, the Cardinal having mistaken (probably the good knight had a finer figure than his Majesty) Sir Edward Neville for the King. "Thus passed they forth the night with banqueting, dauncing, and other triumphs, to the great comfort of the King, and pleasant regarde of the nobility there assembled."

The hour of unexpected reverse came. Here, on October 18, 1529, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk announced his downfall to the aged and broken-hearted prelate. Having delivered up the Great Seal, he called together the members of his household, and desired them to lay out in the galleries and rooms all the stuffs, plate, ("in number almost incredible,”) arras hangings, with full inventories of all his goods, and departed simply on the morrow, "taking with him nothing but certain provision for his house at Esher." Memorable were his dying words, when he had come to "lay his bones" among the monks of Leicester, saved perchance by the broken heart and worn-out frame from a ruder death: "Had I but served my GOD as faithfully as I have served the King, He would not thus have forsaken me in my grey hairs." The very name of his mansion was to suffer change.

"Sir, you

Must no more call it York-place, that is past:
For, since the Cardinal fell, that title's lost;
'Tis now the King's, and called Whitehall."

KING HENRY VIII., act iv., sc. l.

Whitehall, although not generally adopted until the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was, it would seem, the traditionary name which, at that and an earlier period, denoted a royal residence. In 1530 the King had the property conveyed to him, with the consent of the Chapter of York, by way of recovery, on February 12th, 21 Hen. VIII., described as "one messuage, two gardens, and three acres of ground, with the appurtenances." In the time of King Edward III. a Parliament had been held within its walls, but Henry found it insufficient

for his excessive pomp: he therefore obtained a grant from John Islip, Abbat of Westminster, of some large possessions in 1532, viz. all the houses in King-street between Lamballey and the south of York-place, all the land from the chapel of "Our Lady Rouncyval" at Charing Cross to Scotland-yard, all the property which now forms the Green and St. James's Parks, and the site of Buckingham House and Gardens. The Palace was seven years in building; and he then obtained an Act of Parliament, 28 Hen. VIII., declaring its limits, as the Old Palace of Edward the Confessor was in "utter ruin and decay" since a fatal fire in 1512. He at once proceeded to erect a noble stone gallery, brought from Esher, (on the site in later years occupied by the residence of the Duke of Dorset, and more recently of Lord Whitworth,) that his court and nobility might witness from it the frequent jousts and tournaments held in the spacious tilt-yard beneath,—amid whose mimic war the stalwart frame of Henry, when still in his prime, might often be discerned foremost among the gallant challengers. A tennis-court, a bowling-green, cock-pit, and stately gates connecting them with the Palace, and leading into the Park, completed "the many and distinct mansions, beautiful and costly lodgings and buildings, edified for his Grace's singular pleasure, comfort, and commodity." Hans Holbein, introduced to the King by Sir Thomas More, had here (until the arrival of Philip of Spain, when they were occupied by part of his train,) a suite of apartments, and received annually 200 florins as his guerdon for painting the interior of the Palace.

It was in the royal closet, about midnight, at Whitehall that Henry was clandestinely married to Anna Boleyn, on January 25, 1533, by Doctor Rowland Lee, the King's Chaplain, afterwards Bishop of Lichfield and Chester, and President of Wales. On December 30, A. D. 1546, he signed his will, and on the 28th of January expired. Before the last, he at times muttered the name of Anna Boleyn; then in darker intervals of agony, with fixed and horror-stricken eyes, shrieked "Monks, monks, monks." A few hours, and with the words "All is lost" his spirit past from earth. "Thursday," says

and so also to his King Edward VI.

Aubrey, "was a fatal day to Henry VIII., posterity. He died on Thursday, Jan. 28. on Thursday, July 6. Queen Mary on Thursday, Nov. 17. Queen Elizabeth on Thursday, March 24."

How many-wife, courtier, noble, and knight--had there rued his savage caprice, yet were attracted to his fatal and fascinating presence! We seem once more to see Lord Percy; Thomas Cromwell, ill-fated successor of the fallen Cardinal; the learned Erasmus; Hans Holbein, prince of painters; the lofty Sir Thomas More, great in integrity; the more fortunate Cranmer, reserved for martyrdom; the inflexible Fisher, Bishop of Rochester; Sir Thomas Wyatt, poet, and friend of the gallant Surrey-warrior without fear and without reproach -the bard of Geraldine. Then pass by Katharine of Arragon, indignant and divorced; Anna Boleyn, carried to the untimely scaffold; Jane Seymour, rescued by the kindly hand of death from the sure effect of the palled passion of her tyrant husband; Anne of Cleves, abandoned and scorned; the guilty sad Katharine Howard; and his shrewd survivor, Katharine Parr.

Yet, what a fair and sunny outside did Whitehall wear, glittering with brilliant armour, waving with gorgeous dresses, echoing to the shouts at tournament and the music of masques,

-a spectacle of chivalry and beauty! One of the most brilliant and interesting sights occurred in 1532, when, out of a general muster of all men within the City and Liberties between the ages of 16 and 60, those were chosen who had "white harness and white caps and feathers." The Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs appeared in "gorgeous attire," and attended by gaily-dressed pages and stout halberdiers. Most of the citizens "of any quality or office" were clad in white silk or satin coats, with chains of gold, and some with rich jewels. They mustered in Mile End Fields, and in excellent order marched down to Westminster, where the Court stood to view them as they passed; and then marched through the Sanctuary, and round about St. James's Park, afterwards returning through Holborn to the City. On May 8, 1539, the King from his gallery reviewed 15,000 armed citizens, when England was threatened with a foreign invasion.