The history of the reigns of Henry the Seventh, Henry the Eighth, Edward the Sixth, and Queen Mary the first written by the Right Honourable Francis Lord Verulam, Viscount St. Alban ; the other three by the Right Honourable and Right Reverend Father in God, Francis Godwyn, Lord Bishop of Hereford.

THE HISTORY Of the Reign of KING HENRY The SEVENTH.

AFter that Richard the Third of that Name, King in Fact only, but Tyrant both in Title and Regiment, and so commonly termed and re∣puted in all times since, was by the Divine Revenge, favouring the Design of an Exil'd man, overthrown and slain at Bosworth-field: There succeeded in the Kingdom the Earl of Richmond, thence-forth stiled Henry the Seventh. The King immediately after the Victory, as one that had been bred under a devout Mother, and was in his nature, a great observer of Religious Forms, caused Te Deum Laudamus to be solemnly sung in the presence of the whole Army upon the place, and was himself with general Applause, and great Cries of Joy, in a kind of Militar Election, or Recognition, saluted King. Mean-while the Body of Richard, after many Indignities and Reproaches (the Dirigies and Obsequies of the common People towards Tyrants) was obscurely Buried. For though the King of his Nobleness gave charge unto the Fryers of Leicester to see an Honourable Interrment to be given to it, yet the Religious people themselves (being not free from the Humours of the Vul∣gar) neglected it; wherein nevertheless they did not then incurr any mans blame or Censure. No man thinking any Ignominy or Contumely unworthy of him, that had been the Executioner of King Henry the Sixth (that innocent Prince) with his own

hands; the Contriver of the death of the Duke of Clarence, his Brother; the Murderer of his two Nephews (one of them his Lawfull King in the Present, and the other in the Future failing of him) and vehemently suspected to have been the Impoisoner of his Wife, thereby to make vacant his Bed, for a Marriage within the Degrees forbidden. And although he were a Prince in Militar Virtue approved, jealous of the Honour of the English Nation, and likewise a good Law-maker, for the ease and solace of the common People: yet his Cruelties and Parricides, in the Opinion of all men, weighed down his Virtues and Merits; and in the opinion of Wise men, even those Virtues themselves were conceived to be rather feigned, and affected things to serve his Ambition, than 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Qualities ingenrate in his Judgement or Nature. And therefore it was noted by men of great Under∣standing, (who seeing his after Acts, looked back upon his former Proceedings) that even in the time of King Edward his Brother, he was not without secret Trains and Mines to turn Envy and Hatred upon his Brother's Government; as having an Expectation and a kind of Divination, that the King, by reason of his many Disorders, could not be of long Life, but was like to leave his Sonnes of tender years; and then he knew well, how easie a step it was, from the place of a Protector, and first Prince of the Blood, to the Crown. And that out of this deep root of Ambition it sprang, that as well at the Treaty of Peace that passed between Edward the Fourth, and Lewis the Eleventh of France, concluded by Enterview of both Kings at Piqueny, as upon all other Occasions, Richard then Duke of Glocester, stood ever upon the side of Honour, raising his own Reputation to the disadvantage of the King his Brother, and drawing the eyes of all (specially of the Nobles and Soldiers) upon himself; as if the King by his voluptuous Life and mean Marriage, were become Effeminate, and less sensible of Honour, and Reason of State, than was fit for a King. And as for the Politique and whole∣som Laws which were Enacted in his Time, they were inter∣preted to be but the Brocage of an Usurper, thereby to wooe, and winne the Hearts of the People; as being conscious to himself that the true Obligations of Soveraignty in him failed, and were wanting. But King Henry in the very entrance of his Reign, and the instant of time, when the Kingdom was cast into his Arms, met with a Point of great difficulty, and knotty to solve, able to trouble and confound the Wisest King in the newness of his Estate; and so much the more, because it could not endure a Deliberation, but must be at once deliberated and determined. There were fallen to his Lot, and concurrent to his Person, three several Titles to the Imperial Crown: The first, the Title of the Lady Elizabeth, with whom, by precedent Pact with the Party that brought him in, he was to Marry. The second, the Antient

and long disputed Title (both by Plea and Arms) of the House of Lancaster, to which he was Inheritour in his own Person. The third, the Title of the Sword or Conquest, for that he came in by Victory of Battel, and that the King in possession was slain in the field. The first of these was fairest, and most like to give contentment to the People, who by Two and twenty Years Reign of King Edward the Fourth, had been fully made capable of the clearness of the Title of the White-Rose or House of York; and by the milde and plausible Reign of the same King toward his latter time, were become affectionate to that Line. But then it lay plain before his Eyes, that if he relyed upon that Title, he could be but a King at Curtesie, and have rather a Matrimonial than a Regal Power: the Right remaining in his Queen, upon whose decease, either with Issue, or without Issue, he was to give place, and be removed. And though he should obtain by Parliament to be continued, yet he knew there was a very great difference between a King that holdeth his Crown by a civil Act of Estates, and one that holdeth it Originally by the Law of Nature, and Descent of Blood. Neither wanted there even at that time secret Rumors and whisperings (which after∣wards gathered strength, and turned to great Troubles) that the two young Sons of King Edward the Fourth, or one of them (which were said to be destroyed in the Tower) were not indeed Mur∣thered, but conveyed secretly away, and were yet living: which if it had been true, had prevented the Title of the Lady Elizabeth. On the other side, if he stood upon his own Title of the House of Lancaster, inherent in his Person; he knew it was a Title condemned by Parliament, and generally prejudged in the common Opinion of the Realm, and that it tended directly to the Dis-inherison of the Line of York, held then the indubiate Heirs of the Crown. So that if he should have no Issue by the Lady Elibabeth, which should be Descendents of the Double-Line, then the Ancient flames of Discord and Intestine Wars, upon the Competition of both Houses, would again return and revive.

As for Conquest notwithstanding, Sir William Stanly, after some Acclamations of the Soldiers in the Field, had put a Crown of Ornament (which Richard wore in the Battel, and was found amongst the Spoils) upon King Henry's Head, as if there were his chief Title; yet he remembred well upon what Conditions and Agreements he was brought in, and that to claim as Con∣queror, was to put as well his own Party, as the rest, into Ter∣rour and Fear; as that which gave him Power of Disannulling of Laws, and disposing of Mens Fortunes and Estates, and the like points of Absolute Power, being in themselves so harsh and odious, as that William himself, commonly called the Conqueror, however he used and exercised the Power of a Conqueror, to re∣ward his Normans, yet he forbare to use that Claim in the be∣ginning,

but mixed it with a Titulary pretence grounded upon the Will and Designation of Edward the Confessor. But the King out of the greatness of his own mind, presently cast the Die, and the Inconveniences appearing unto him on all parts; and knowing there could not be any Interreign or suspension of Title; and preferring his Affection to his own Line and Blood, and liking that Title best which made him independent; and being in his Nature and constitution of Mind not very apprehensive or forecasting of future Events a-far off, but an Entertainer of Fortune by the Day; resolved to rest upon the Title of Lancaster as the Main, and to use the other two, that of Marriage, and that of Battel, but as Supporters, the one to appease secret Dis∣contents, and the other to beat down open murmur and dispute: Not forgetting that the same Title of Lancaster had formerly maintained a possession of three Descents in the Crown, and might have proved a Perpetuity, had it not ended in the weakness and inability of the last Prince. Whereupon the King presently that very day, being the Two and Twentieth of August, assumed the Stile of King in his own name, without mentioning of the Lady Elizabeth at all, or any relation thereunto. In which course he ever after persisted, which did spin him a Thread of many Seditions and Troubles. The King full of these thoughts, be∣fore his departure from Leicester, dispatched Sir Robert Willoughby to the Castle of Sheriff-Hutton in Torkshire, where were kept in safe Custody by King Richard's commandment, both the Lady Elizabeth Daughter of King Edward, and Edward Plantagenet, Son and Heir to George Duke of Clarence. This Edward was by the King's Warrant delivered from the Constable of the Castle to the hand of Sir Robert Willoughby; and by him with all safety and diligence conveyed to the Tower of London, where he was shut up Close-prisoner. Which Act of the King's (being an Act meerly of Policy and Power) proceeded not so much from any apprehension he had of Doctor Shaw's Tale at Paul's Cross, for the Bastarding of Edward the Fourth's Issues, in which case this young Gentleman was to succeed, (for that Fable was ever ex∣ploded) but upon a setled disposition to depress all Eminent Per∣sons of the Line of Tork. Wherein still the King out of strength of Will, or weakness of Judgement, did use to shew a little more of the Party, than of the King.

For the Lady Elizabeth she received also a direction to repait with all convenient speed to London, and there to remain with the Queen Dowager her Mother; which accordingly she soon after did, accompanied with many. Noble-men and Ladies of Honour. In the mean season the King set forwards by easie Journeys to the City of London, receiving the Acclamations and Applauses of the People as he went, which indeed were true and unfeigned, as might well appear in the very Demonstrations and fulness of the

Cry. For they thought generally that he was a Prince as or∣dained and sent down from Heaven, to unite and put to an end to the long Dissentions of the two Houses, which although they had had in the times of Henry the Fourth, Henry the Fifth, and a part of Henry the Sixth on the one side, and the times of Ed∣ward the Fourth on the other, Lucid-Intervalls and happy Pauses; yet they did ever hang over the Kingdom, ready to break forth into new Perturbations and Calamities. And as his Victory gave him the Knee, so his purpose of Marriage with the Lady Eliza∣beth gave him the Heart; so that both Knee and Heart did truly bow before him.

He on the other side, with great Wisdom, (not ignorant of the Affections and Fears of the People) to disperse the conceit and terrour of a Conquest, had given Order that there should be nothing in his Journey like unto a Warlike March, or manner: but rather like unto the Progress of a King in full Peace and Assurance.

He entred the City upon a Saturday, as he had also obtained the Victory upon a Saturday, which Day of the Week first upon an Observation, and after upon Memory and Fancy, he accounted and chose as a Day prosperous unto him.

The Mayor and Companies of the City received him at Shore∣ditch: whence, with great and Honorable attendance and troops of Noble-men, and Persons of Quality he entred the City; himself not being on Horse-back, or in any open Chair, or Throne, but in a close Chariot, as one that having been sometimes an Enemy to the whole State, and a Proscribed person, chose rather to keep State, and strike a Reverence into the People, than to fawn upon them.

He went first into Saint Paul's Church, where not meaning that the People should forget too soon that he came in by Battel, he made an Offertory of his Standards, and had Orizon and Te Deum again sung, and went to his Lodging prepared in the Bishop of London's Palace, where he stayed for a time.

During his abode there, he Assembled his Council, and other principal Persons, in presence of whom, he did renew again his promise to marry with the Lady Elizabeth. This he did the rather, because having at his coming out of Britain given arti∣ficially, for serving of his own turn, some hopes, in case he obtained the Kingdome, to Marry Anne Inheritress to the Dutchy of Britain, whom Charles the Eighth of France soon after Married. It bred some doubt and suspition amongst divers, that he was not sincere, or at least not fixed in going on with the Match of England so much desired: which Conceit also, though it were but Talk and Discourse, did much afflict the poor Lady Elizabeth her self. But howsoever he both truly intended it, and desired also it should be so believed, (the better to extinguish

Envy and Contradiction to his other purposes) yet was he re∣solved in himself not to proceed to the Consummation thereof, till his Coronation and a Parliament were past. The one, lest a joynt-Coronation of himself and his Queen might give any coun∣tenance of Participation of Title: The other, lest in the Intayling of the Crown to himself, which he hoped to obtain by Parliament, the Votes of the Parliament might any ways reflect upon her.

About this time in Autumn, towards the end of September, there began and reigned in the City and other parts of the King∣dom a Disease then new; which of the Accidents, and manner thereof, they called the Sweating-Sickness. This Disease had a swift course both in the Sick-Body and in the Time and Period of the lasting thereof: for they that were taken with it, upon Four and twenty Hours escaping were thought almost assured. And as to the Time of the malice and reign of the Disease e're it ceased; It began about the One and twentieth of September, and cleared up before the end of October, insomuch that it was no hinderance to the King's Coronation, which was the last of Octo∣ber: nor (which was more) to the holding of the Parliament, which began but seven days after. It was a Pestilent-Feaver, but, as it seemeth, not seated in the Veins or Humors, for that there followed no Carbuncle, no purple or livid Spots, or the like, the Mass of the Body being not tainted: only a malign Vapour flew to the Heart, and seised the Vital Spirits; which stirred Nature to strive to send it forth by an extreme Sweat. And it appeared by Experience that this Disease was rather a Surprize of Nature, than obstinate to Remedies, if it were in time looked unto. For if the Patient were kept in an equal temper, both for Clothes, Fire, and Drink, moderately warm, with temperate Cordials, whereby Natures work were neither irritated by Heat, nor turned back by Cold, he commonly Recovered. But infinite Persons dyed suddenly of it, before the manner of the Cure and attendance was known. It was conceived not to be an Epide∣mick Disease, but to proceed from a Malignity in the Constitution of the Air, gathered by the predispositions of Seasons: and the speedy Cessation declared as much.

On Simon and Jude's Even the King dined with Thomas Bour∣cchier, Arch-Bishop of Canterbury and Cardinal: and from Lambeth went by Land over the Bridge to the Tower, where the morrow after he made Twelve Knights-Bannerets. But for Creations he dispensed them with a sparing Hand. For notwithstanding a Field so lately fought, and a Coronation so near at hand, he only created Three: James Earl of Pembrook (the King's Uncle) was created Duke of Bedford; Thomas the Lord Stanley (the King's Father-in-Law) Earl of Derby; and Edward Courtney Earl of De∣von; though the King had then nevertheless a purpose in himself to make more in time of Parliament; bearing a wise and decent

respect to Distribute his Creations, some to honour his Coronation, and some his Parliament.

The Coronation followed two days after upon the Thirtyeth day of October in the year of our Lord 1485. At which time Innocent the Eighth was Pope of Rome, Frederick the Third, Emperour of Almaine; and Maximilian his Son newly chosen King of the Romans; Charles the Eighth, King of France; Ferdinando and Isabella, Kings of Spain; and James the Third, King of Scotland: with all which Kings and States, the King was at that time in good Peace and Amity. At which Day also (as if the Crown upon his Head, had put Perils into his Thoughts) he did institute sor the better Security of his Person a Band of Fifty Archers under a Captain to attend him, by the name of Yeomen of his Guard: and yet that it might be thought to be rather a matter of Dignity, after the imitation of that he had known abroad, than any mat∣ter of Diffidence appropriate to his own Case, he made it to be understood for an Ordinance not Temporary, but to hold in Suc∣cession for ever after.

The Seventh of November the King held his Parliament at Westmister, which he had Summoned immediately after his coming to London. His Ends in calling a Parliament (and that so speedily) were chiefly three; First, to procure the Crown to be entayled upon himself. Next, to have the Attaindors of all of his Party (which were in no small Number) reversed, and all Acts of Hostility by them done in his Quarrel, remitted and discharged: and on the other side, to attaint by Parliament, the Heads and Principals of his Enemies. The Third, to calm and quiet the fears of the rest of that Party by a General Pardon: not being ignorant in how great danger a King stands from his Subjects, when most of his Subjects are conscious in themselves, that they stand in his danger. Unto these three special Motives of a Par∣liament was added, that he as a prudent and moderate Prince, made this Judgement; That it was fit for him to hasten to let his People see, that he meant to govern by Law, howsoever he came in by the Sword: and fit also to reclaim them to know him for their King, whom they had so lately talked of as an Enemy or Banished man. For that which concerned the Entayling of the Crown; (more than that he was true in his own Will, that he would not endure any mention of the Lady Elizabeth: no not in the nature of Special-Intail,) he carried it otherwise with great Wisdom and measure. For he did not press to have the Act penned by way of Declaration or Recognition of Right: as on the other side, he avoided to have it by new Law or Ordinance; but chose rather a kind of middle-way, by way of Establishment, and that under covert and indifferent words; That the inheritance of the Crown should rest, remain, and abide in the King, &c. which words might equally be applied; That the Crown should continue

to him: but whether as having former Right to it, (which was doubtful,) or having it then in Fact and Possession, (which no man denyed,) was left fair to Interpretation either way. And again for the limitation of the Entail, he did not press it to go further than to himself and to the Heirs of his Body, not speaking of his right Heirs; but leaving that to the Law to decide: so as the Entail might seem rather a personal Favour to him and his Children, than a total Dis-inherison to the House of York. And in this form was the Law drawn and passed. Which Statute he procured to be confirmed by the Pope's Bull the year following, with mention nevertheless (by way of Recital) of his other Titles; both of Descent and Conquest. So as now the wreath of Three was made a wreath of Five, for to the three first Titles of the two Houses, or Lines, and Conquest, were added two more; the Authorities Parliamentary and Papal.

The King likewise in the Reversal of the Attaindors of his Partakers, and discharging them of all Offences incident to his service and succour, had his Will: and Acts did pass accordingly. In the passage whereof, exception was taken to divers Persons in the House of Commons, for that they were Attainted, and thereby not legal, nor habilitate to serve in Parliament, being disabled in the highest degree; And that it should be a great incongruity to have them to make Laws, who themselves were not Inlawed. The truth was, that divers of those which had in the time of King Richard been strongest and most declared for the King's Party, were returned Knights and Burgesses for the Parlia∣ment, whether by care or recommendation from the State, or the voluntary inclination of the People: many of which had been by Richard the Third attainted by Outlawries, or otherwise. The King was somewhat troubled with this. For though it had a grave and specious Shew, yet it reflected upon his Party. But wisely not shewing himself at all moved therewith, he would not understand it but as a Case of Law; and wished the Judges to be advised thereupon: who for that purpose were forthwith Assem∣bled in the Exchequer-Chamber, (which is the Council-Chamber of the Judges,) and upon deliberation they gave a grave and safe Opinion and Advice, mixed with Law and Convenience; which was, That the Knights and Burgesses attainted by the course of Law, should forbear to come into the House, 'till a Law were passed for the Reversal of their Attaindors.

It was at that time incidently moved amongst the Judges in their Consultation, what should be done for the King himself, who likewise was attainted; But it was with unanimous consent Resolved; That the Crown takes away all defects and stops in Blood: and that from the time the King did assume the Crown, the Fountain was cleared, and all Attaindors and Corruption of Blood discharged. But nevertheless for Honours sake it was Ordained by Parliament,

that all Records wherein there was any memory, or mention of the King's Attaindor, should be defaced, cancelled, and taken off the File.

But on the part of the King's Enemies there were by Parliament attainted; the late Duke of Glocester, calling himself Richard the Third, the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Surrey, Viscount Lovel, the Lord Ferrers, the Lord Zouch, Richard Ratcliff, William Catesby, and many others of degree and quality. In which Bills of At∣taindors, nevertheless there were contained many just and tem∣perate Clauses, Savings and Proviso's, well shewing and fore∣tokening the Wisdom, Stay, and Moderation of the King's Spirit of Government. And for the Pardon of the rest, that had stood against the King; the King, upon a second advice, thought it not fit it should pass by Parliament, the better (being matter of Grace) to impropriate the Thanks to himself: using only the Opportunity of a Parliament time, the better to disperse it into the Veins of the Kingdom. Therefore during the Parliament, he Published his Royal Proclamation, offering Pardon and Grace of Restitution, to all such as had taken Arms, or been participant of any Attempts against him; so as they submitted themselves to his Mercy by a Day, and took the Oath of Allegiance and Fi∣delity to him. Whereupon many came out of Sanctuary, and many more came out of Fear, no less guilty than those that had taken Sanctuary.

As for Money or Treasure; the King thought it not seasonable, or fit to demand any of his Subjects at this Parliament: both be∣cause he had received satisfaction from them in matters of so great Importance, and because he could not remunerate them with any General Pardon, being prevented therein by the Coronation∣Pardon, passed immediately before: but chiefly, for that it was in every mans Eye, what great Forfeitures and Confiscations he had at that present to help himself: Whereby those Casualties of the Crown might in reason spare the Purses of his Subjects; espe∣cially in a time when he was in Peace with all his Neighbours. Some few Laws passed at that Parliament, almost for form sake: amongst which there was One, to reduce Aliens, being made Denizens, to pay Strangers Customs; and another, to draw to himself the Seisures and Compositions of Italian Goods, for not employment, being Points of Profit to his Coffers, whereof from the very Beginning he was not forgetful; and had been more happy at the Latter End, if his early Providence (which kept him from all necessity of Exacting upon his People) could likewise have attemp'red his nature therein. He added during Par∣liament, to his former Creations, the Innoblement or Advancement in Nobility of a few others: The Lord Chandos of Britain, was made Earl of Bath; and Sir Giles Dawbeny was made Lord Dawbeny; and Sir Robert Willoughby Lord Brook.

The King did also with great Nobleness and Bounty (which Virtues at that time had their turns in his Nature) restore Ed∣ward Stafford (eldest Son to Henry, Duke of Buckingham, attainted in the time of King Richard,) not only to his Dignities, but to his Fortunes and Possessions, which were great; to which he was moved also by a kind of Gratitude, for that the Duke was the man that moved the first Stone against the Tyranny of King Richard, and indeed made the King a Bridge to the Crown upon his own Ruins. Thus the Parliament brake up.

The Parliament being dissolved, the King sent forthwith Money to redeem the Marquess Dorset, and Sir John Bourchier, whom he had left as his Pledges at Paris, for Money which he had borrowed, when he made his Expedition for England. And thereupon he took a fit occasion to send the Lord Treasurer and Master Bray (whom he used as Counsellor) to the Lord Mayor of London, requiring of the City a Prest of six thousand Marks: But after many Parlees, he could obtain but two thousand Pounds. Which nevertheless the King took in good part; as men use to do, that practise to borrow Money when they have no need. About this time, the King called unto his Privy∣Council, John Morton, and Richard Fox, the one Bishop of Ely, the other Bishop of Exceter, vigilant men, and secret, and such as kept watch with him almost upon all men else. They had been both versed in his Affairs before he came to the Crown, and were partakers of his adverse Fortune. This Morton soon after upon the death of Bourchier', he made Archbishop of Can∣terbury. And for Fox, he made him Lord Keeper of his Privy-Seal, and afterwards advanced him by Degrees, from Exceter to Bath and Wells, thence to Durham, and last to Winchester. For although the King loved to employ and advance Bishops, because having rich Bishopricks they carried their Reward upon themselves: yet he did use to raise them by steps; that he might not lose the profit of the First-fruits, which by that course of Gradation was multiplied.

At last, upon the Eighteenth of January was Solemnized the so long expected and so much desired Marriage, between the King and the Lady Elizabeth: which Day of Marriage was cele∣brated with greater Triumph, and Demonstrations (especially on the Peoples part) of Joy and Gladness, than the days either of his Entry, or Coronation; which the King rather noted, than liked. And it is true, that all his life time, while the Lady Eliza∣beth lived with him, (for she dyed before him) he shewed him∣self no very indulgent Husband towards her, though she was beautiful, gentle, and fruitful. But his aversion towards the House of York was so predominant in him, as it found place, not only in his Wars and Councils, but in his Chamber and Bed.

Towards the middle of the Spring, the King, full of confidence

and assurance, as a Prince that had been Victorious in Battel, and had prevailed with his Parliament in all that he desired, and had the Ring of Acclamations fresh in his Ears, thought the rest of his Reign should be but Play, and the enjoying of a Kingdom. Yet as a wise and watchful King, he would not neglect any thing for his Safety; thinking nevertheless to perform all things now, rather as an Exercise, than as a Labour. So he being truly informed, that the Northern parts were not only Affectionate to the House of York, but particularly had been Devoted to King Richard the Third, thought it would be a Summer well spent to visit those Parts, and by his presence and application of him∣self, to reclaim and rectifie those Humours. But the King, in his accompt of Peace, and Calms, did much overcast his For∣tunes, which proved for many Years together full of Broken Seas, Tides, and Tempests. For he was no sooner come to Lincoln, where he kept his Easter, but he received news, that the Lord Lovel, Humphrey Stafford, and Thomas Stafford (who had for∣merly taken Sanctuary at Colchester) were departed out of San∣ctuary, but to what place, no man could tell. Which adver∣tisement, the King despised, and continued his Journey to York. At York there came fresh. and more certain advertisement, that the Lord Lovel was at hand with a great power of men, and that the Staffords were in Arms in Worcestershire, and had made their approaches to the City of Worcester, to assail it. The King, as a Prince of great and profound Judgement, was not much moved with it; for that he thought it was but a Ragg or Remnant of Bosworth-Field, and had nothing in it of the main Party of the House of York. But he was more doubtful of the raising of Forces to resist the Rebels, than of the Resistance it self; for that he was in a Core of People, whose affections he suspected. But the Action enduring no delay, he did speedily levy and sent against the Lord Lovel to the number of three thousand men, ill armed, but well assured, (being taken some few out of his own Train, and the rest out of the Tenants and Followers of such as were safe to be trusted,) under the Conduct of the Duke of Bedford. And as his manner was to send his Pardons rather be∣fore the Sword than after, he gave Commission to the Duke, to proclaim Pardon to all that would come in: Which the Duke, upon his approach to the Lord Lovel's Camp, did perform. And it fell out as the King expected; the Heralds were the Great∣Ordnance. For the Lord Lovel, upon Proclamation of Pardon, mistrusting his men, fled into Lancashire, and lurking for a time with Sir Thomas Broughton, after sailed over into Flanders, to the Lady Margaret. And his men, forsaken of their Captain, did presently submit themselves to the Duke. The Staffords likewise, and their Forces, hearing what had happened to the Lord Lovel (in whose Success their chief Trust was) despaired, and dispersed.

The two Brothers, taking Sanctuary at Colnham, a Village near Abington; which Place, upon view of their Priviledge in the King's Bench, being judged no sufficient Sanctuary for Traytors, Hum∣phrey was Executed at Tyburn; and Thomas, as being led by his elder Brother, was Pardoned. So this Rebellion proved but a Blast; and the King having by this Journey purged a little the Dregs and Leaven of the Northern People, that were before in no good affection towards him, returned to London.

In September following, the Queen was delivered of her first Son, whom the King (in Honour of the British-Race, of which himself was) named Arthur, according to the Name of that ancient worthy King of the Britains; in whose Acts there is truth enough to make him Famous, besides that which is Fabulous. The Child was strong and able, though he was Born in the eighth Month, which Physicians do prejudge.

THere followed this Year, being the Second of the King's Reign, a strange Accident of State, whereof the Re∣lations which we have, are so naked, as they leave it scarce cre∣dible; not for the nature of it, (for it hath fallen out oft,) but for the manner and circumstance of it, especially in the begin∣nings. Therefore we shall make our Judgement upon the things themselves, as they give light one to another, and (as we can) dig Truth out of the Mine. The King was green in his Estate; and contrary to his own Opinion, and Desert both, was not without much Hatred throughout the Realm. The root of all, was the discountenancing of the House of York, which the ge∣neral Body of the Realm still affected. This did alienate the Hearts of the Subjects from him dayly more and more, especially when they saw, that after his Marriage, and after a Son born, the King did nevertheless not so much as proceed to the Coronation of the Queen, not vouchsafing her the Honour of a Matrimonial Crown; for the Coronation of Her was not 'till almost two Years after, when Danger had taught him what to do. But much more, when it was spread abroad (whether by Errour, or the cunning of Male-contents) that the King had a purpose to put to death Edward Plantagenet closely in the Tower: Whose case was so neerly parallel'd with that of Edward the Fourth's Chil∣dren, in respect of the blood, like age, and the very place of the Tower, as it did refresh and reflect upon the King a most odious resemblance, as if he would be another King Richard. And all this time it was still whispered every where, that at least one of the Children of Edward the Fourth was living. Which Bruit was cunningly fomented by such as desired Innovation. Neither was the King's nature and customs greatly fit to disperse these Mists; but contrary-wise he had a fashion rather to create Doubts, than Assurance. Thus was Fuel prepared for the Spark:

the Spark that afterwards kindled such a Fire, and Combustion, was at the first contemptible.

There was a subtil Priest called Richard Simon, that lived in Oxford, and had to his Pupil a Baker's Son named Lambert Simnel, of the age of some Fifteen years; a comely Youth, and well∣favoured, not without some extraordinary dignity and grace of Aspect. It came into this Priest's fancy (hearing what men talked, and in hope to raise himself to some great Bishoprick,) to cause this Lad to counterfeit and Personate the second Son of Edward the Fourth, supposed to be murthered; and afterward (for he changed his intention in the manage) the Lord Edward Plantagenet then Prisoner in the Tower, and accordingly to frame him and instruct him in the Part he was to play. This is that which (as was touched before) seemeth scarcely credible: Not that a false Person should be assumed to gain a Kingdom, for it hath been seen in antient and late times; nor that it should come into the mind of such an abject Fellow, to enterprise so great a mat∣ter for high Conceits do sometime come streaming into the Imagi∣nations of base persons, especially when they are drunk with News and Talk of the People. But here is that which hath no apparance; That this Priest being utterly unacquainted with the true Person, according to whose pattern he should shape his Counterfeit, should think it possible for him to instruct his Player, either in gesture and fashions, or in recounting past matters of his Life and Education; or to fit Answers to Questions, or the like, any ways to come near the Resemblance of him whom he was to represent. For this Lad was not to personate one, that had been long before taken out of his Cradle, or conveyed away in his Infancy, known to few; but a Youth that 'till the age almost of Ten years had been brought up in a Court where infinite Eyes had been upon him. For King Edward touched with remorse of his Bro∣ther the Duke of Clarence's Death, would not indeed restore his Son, (of whom we speak) to be Duke of Clarence, but yet created him Earl of Warwick, reviving his Honour on the Mothers side, and used him honorably during his time, though Richard the Third afterwards confined him. So that it cannot be, but that some great Person, that knew particularly, and familiarly Edward Plantagenet, had a hand in the business, from whom the Priest might take his aim. That which is most probable, out of the precedent and subsequent Acts, is, that it was the Queen Dowager, from whom this Action had the principal source and motion. For certain it is, she was a busie negotiating Woman, and in her withdrawing-Chamber had the fortunate Conspiracy for the King against King Richard the Third, been hatched; which the King knew, and remembred perhaps but too well; and was at this time extremely discontent with the King, thinking her Daugh∣ter (as the King handled the matter) not advanced, but depressed:

and none could hold the Book so well to prompt and instruct this Stage-play, as she could. Nevertheless it was not her meaning; nor no more was it the meaning of any of the better and sager sort that favoured the Enterprize and knew the Secret, that this disguised Idol should possess the Crown; but at his peril to make way to the Overthrow of the King: and that done, they had their several Hopes and Ways. That which doth chiefly fortifie this Conjecture, is, that as soon as the matter brake forth in any strength, it was one of the King's first Acts to cloister the Queen Dowager in the Nunnery of Bermonsey, and to take away all her Lands and Estate; and this by close Council without any Legal proceeding, upon far-fetcht Pretences; That she had delivered her two Daughters out of Sanctuary to King Richard, contrary to pro∣mise. Which Proceeding being even at that time taxed for ri∣gorous and undue, both in-matter and manner, makes it very probable there was some greater matter against her, which the King upon reason of Policy, and to avoid Envy would not pub∣lish. It is likewise no small Argument that there was some Secret in it, and some suppressing of Examinations; for that the Priest Simon himself, after he was taken, was never brought to Exe∣cution, no not so much as to publick Tryal, (as many Clergy-men were upon less Treasons,) but was only shut up close in a Dungeon. Add to this, that after the Earl of Lincoln (a principal Person of the House of York) was slain in Stoke-field, the King opened himself to some of his Council, that he was sorry for the Earl's Death, because by him (he said) he might have known the bottom of his Danger.

But to return to the Narration it self; Simon did first instruct his Scholar for the part of Richard Duke of York, second Son to King Edward the Fourth, and this was at such time as it was voyced that the King purposed to put to Death Edward Planta∣genet Prisoner in the Tower, whereat there was great murmur. But hearing soon after a general bruit that Plantagenet had escaped out of the Tower, and thereby finding him so much beloved amongst the People, and such rejoycing at his Escape, the cun∣ning Priest changed his Copy, and chose now Plantagenet to be the Subject his Pupil should personate, because he was more in the present speech, and Votes of the People; and it pieced better, and followed more close and handsomly upon the bruit of Plantagenet's Escape. But yet doubting that there would be too near looking and too much Perspective into his Disguise; if he should shew it here in England; he thought good (after the manner of Scenes in Stage-Plays and Masques) to shew it a-far-off; and therefore sailed with his Scholar into Ireland, where the Affection to the House of York was most in height. The King had been a little Improvident in matters of Ireland, and had not removed Officers and Chancellors, and put in their places, or at

least intermingled persons, of whom he stood assured, as he should have done, since he knew the strong Bent of that Coun∣trey towards the House of York; and that it was a ticklish and unsetled State, more easie to receive distempers and mutations, than England was. But trusting to the reputation of his Victo∣ries and Successes in England, he thought he should have time enough to extend his Cares afterwards to that second King∣dom.

Wherefore through this neglect, upon the coming of Simon with his pretended Plantagenet into Ireland, all things were pre∣pared for Revolt and Sedition, almost as if they had been set and plotted before-hand. Simon's first Address was to the Lord Thomas Fitz-Gerard, Earl of Kildare, and Deputy of Ireland: be∣fore whose Eyes he did cast such a Mist, (by his own insinuation, and by the carriage of his Youth, that expressed a natural Princely Behaviour;) as joyned perhaps with some inward Vapours of Ambition and Affection in the Earl's own mind, left him fully possessed, that it was the true Plantagenet. The Earl presently communicated the matter with some of the Nobles and others there, at the first secretly. But finding them of like Affection to himself, he suffered it of purpose to vent and pass abroad; because they thought it not safe to resolve, till they had a tast of the Peoples Inclination. But if the Great ones were in forward∣ness, the People were in fury, entertaining this Airy Body or Phantasm with incredible affection; partly out of their great de∣votion to the House of York; partly out of a proud humour in the Nation, to give a King to the Realm of England. Neither did the Party in this heat of affection much trouble themselves with the Attaindor of George Duke of Clarence; having newly learned by the King's example, that Attaindors do not interrupt the conveying of Title to the Crown. And as for the Daughters of King Edward the Fourth, they thought King Richard had said enough for them: and took them to be but as of the King's Party, because they were in his power, and at his disposing. So that with marvellous consent and applause, this Counterfeit Planta∣genet was brought with great Solemnity to the Castle of Dublin, and there saluted, served and honoured as King; the Boy be∣coming it well, and doing nothing that did bewray the baseness of his condition. And within few days after he was proclaimed King in Dublin, by the Name of King Edward the Sixth; there being not a Sword drawn in King Henry his Quarrel.

The King was much moved with this unexpected Accident, when it came to his Ears, both because it strook upon that String which ever he most 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as also because it was stirred in such a Place, where he could not with safety transfer his own Person, to suppress it. For partly through natural Valour, and partly through an universal Suspition (not knowing whom to trust)

he was ever ready to wait upon all his Atchievements in person. The King therefore first called his Council together at the Charter∣house at Shine. Which Council was held with great secresie, but the open Decrees thereof, which presently came abroad, were three.

The first was, That the Queen Dowager, for that she contrary to her Pact and Agreement with those that had concluded with her concerning the Marriage of her Daughter Elizabeth with King Henry, had nevertheless delivered her Daughters out of Sanctuary into King Richard's hands; should be Cloystered in the Nunnery of Bermonsey, and forfeit all her Lands and Goods.

The next was, That Edward Plantagenet then Close-prisoner in the Tower, should be in the most publick and notorious man∣ner, that could be devised, shewed unto the People: In part to discharge the King of the Envy of that opinion and bruit, how he had been put to death privily in the Tower; But chiefly to make the People see the levity and imposture of the Proceedings of Ireland, and that their Plantagenet was indeed but a Puppet, or a Counterfeit.

The third was, That there should be again Proclaimed a General-Pardon to all that would reveal their Offences, and submit themselves by a Day. And that this Pardon should be conceived in so ample and liberal a manner, as no High-Treason (no not against the King's own Person) should be excepted. Which though it might seem strange, yet was it not so to a wise King, that knew his greatest dangers were not from the least Treasons, but from the greatest. These Resolutions of the King and his Council were immediately put in execution. And first, the Queen Dowager was put into the Monastery of Bermonsey, and all her Estate seized into the King's hands, whereat there was much wondering; That a weak Woman, for the yielding to the me∣naces and promises of a Tyrant, after such a distance of time, (wherein the King had shewed no displeasure, nor alteration,) but much more after so happy a Marriage, between the King and her Daughter, blessed with Issue-male, should upon a sudden mutability or disclosure of the King's mind be so severely handled.

This Lady was amongst the Examples of great variety of For∣tune. She had first from a distressed Suitor, and desolate Widow, been taken to the Marriage-Bed of a Batchelor-King, the goodliest Personage of his time; and even in his Reign she had endured a strange Eclipse by the King's flight, and temporary depriving from the Crown. She was also very happy, in that she had by him fair Issue, and continued his Nuptial Love (helping her self by some obsequious bearing and dissembling of his Pleasures) to the very end. She was much affectionate to her own Kindred, even unto Faction; which did stir great Envy in the Lords of the King's side, who counted her Blood a disparagement to be

mingled with the King's. With which Lords of the King's Blood, joyned also the King's Favorite the Lord Hastings; who, notwith∣standing the King's great affection to him, was thought at times through her malice and spleen, not to be out of danger of fal∣ling. After her Husband's death, she was matter of Tragedy, having lived to see her Brother beheaded, and her two Sons de∣posed from the Crown, bastarded in their Blood, and cruelly murthered. All this while nevertheless she enjoyed her Liberty, State, and Fortunes. But afterwards again, upon the Rise of the wheel, when she had a King to her Son-in-Law, and was made Grand-mother to a Grand-child of the best Sex; yet was she (upon dark and unknown Reasons, and no less strange Pretences) pre∣cipitated, and banished the World, into a Nunnery; where it was almost thought dangerous to visit her, or see her; and where not long after she ended her Life: but was by the King's com∣mandment Buried with the King her Husband at Windsor. She was Foundress of Queens-College in Cambridge. For this Act the King sustained great Obloquy, which nevertheless (besides the reason of State) was somewhat sweetned to him by a great Confi∣scation.

About this time also Edward Plantagenet was upon a Sunday brought throughout all the principal Streets of London, to be seen of the people. And having passed the view of the Streets, was conducted to St. Paul's Church, in solemn Procession, where great store of people were assembled. And it was provided also in good fashion, that divers of the Nobility, and others of Quality (especially of those that the King most suspected, and knew the person of Plantagenet best) had communication with the young Gentleman by the way, and entertained him with speech and discourse; which did in effect marr the Pageant in Ireland with the Subjects here, at least with so many, as out of Errour, and not out of Malice, might be mis-led. Nevertheless, in Ireland (where it was too late to go back) it wrought little or no effect. But contrariwise, they turned the Imposture upon the King, and gave out, That the King, to defeat the true Inheritor, and to mock the World, and blind the Eyes of simple men, had tricked up a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the likeness of Edward Plantagenet, and shewed him to the People, not sparing to prophane the Ceremony of a Pro∣cession, the more to countenance the Fable.

The General-Pardon likewise near the same time came forth; and the King therewithal omitted no diligence, in giving straight Order, for the keeping the Ports; that Fugitives, Male-contents, or suspected Persons might not pass over into Ireland, and Flan∣ders,

Mean while the Rebels in Ireland had sent privy Messengers both into England, and into Flanders, who in both places had wrought effects of no small Importance. For in England they

won to their Party John, Earl of Lincoln, Son of John de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, and of Elizabeth, King Edward the Fourth's eldest Sister. This Earl was a man of great Wit and Courage, and had his thoughts highly raised by Hopes and Expectations for a time. For Richard the Third had a Resolution, out of his hatred to both his Brethren, King Edward, and the Duke of Clarence, and their Lines, (having had his hand in both their Bloods,) to disable their Issues upon false and incompetent pre∣texts; the one, of Attaindor; the other, of Illegitimation: and to design this Gentleman (in case himself should dye without Children) for Inheritor of the Crown. Neither was this unknown to the King, who had secretly an Eye upon him. But the King having tasted of the Envy of the People, for his Imprisonment of Edward Plantagenet, was doubtful to heap up any more dis∣tasts of that kind, by the Imprisonment of De la Pole also; the rather thinking it Policy to conserve him as a Corrival unto the other. The Earl of Lincoln was induced to participate with the Action of Ireland, not lightly upon the strength of the Proceedings there, which was but a Bubble, but upon Letters from the Lady Margaret of Burgundy, in whose succours and declaration for the Enterprize, there seemed to be a more solid Foundation, both for Reputation and Forces. Neither did the Earl refrain the Business, for that he knew the pretended Plantagenet to be but an Idol. But contrariwise, he was more glad it should be the false Plantagenet than the true: because the false being sure to fall away of himself, and the true to be made sure of by the King; it might open and pave a fair and prepared way to his own Title. With this Resolution he sayled secretly into Flanders; where was a little before arrived the Lord Lovel, leaving a cor∣respondence here in England with Sir Thomas Broughton, a man of great Power and Dependencies in Lancashire. For before this time, when the pretended Plantagenet was first received in Ireland, secret Messengers had been also sent to the Lady Margaret, ad∣vertising her what was passed in Ireland, imploring Succours in an Enterprize (as they said) so pious and just, and that God had so miraculously prospered the beginning thereof; and making offer, that all things should be guided by her will and direction, as the Sovereign Patroness and Protectress of the Enterprize. Mar∣garet was second Sister to King Edward the Fourth, and had been second Wife to Charles, sirnamed the Hardy, Duke of Burgundy; by whom, having no Children of her own, she did with singular care and tenderness intend the Education of Philip and Margaret, Grand-children to her former Husband; which won her great Love and Authority among the Dutch. This Princess (having the Spirit of a Man, and Malice of a Woman) abounding in Treasure, by the greatness of her Dower, and her provident Go∣vernment, and being childless, and without any nearer Care,

made it her Design and Enterprize, to see the Majesty Royal of England once again re-placed in her House, and had set up King Henry as a Mark, at whose Overthrow all her Actions should aim and shoot; in-so-much as all the Counsels of his succeeding Troubles came chiefly out of that Quiver. And she bare such a mortal Hatred to the House of Lancaster, and personally to the King, as she was no ways mollified by the Conjunction of the Houses in her Neeces Marriage, but rather hated her Neece, as the means of the King's ascent to the Crown, and assurance therein. Wherefore with great violence of affection she embraced this Overture: And upon Counsel taken with the Earl of Lincoln, and the Lord Lovel, and some other of the Party, it was resolved with all speed, the two Lords assisted with a Regiment of two thousand Almains, being choice and veterane Bands under the Command of Martin Swart (a valiant and experimented Captain) should pass over into Ireland to the new King. Hoping, that when the Action should have the face of a received and setled Regality, (with such a second Person, as the Earl of Lincoln, and the Conjunction and Reputation of Forein Succors,) the Fame of it would embolden and prepare all the Party of the Confede∣rates and Male-contents within the Realm of England, to give them Assistance, when they should come over there. And for the Person of the Counterfeit, it was agreed, that if all things succeeded well, he should be put down, and the true Plantagenet received: Wherein nevertheless the Earl of Lincoln had his par∣ticular hopes. After they were come into Ireland, and that the Party took courage, by seeing themselves together in a Body, they grew very confident of success, conceiving and discoursing amongst themselves, that they went in upon far better Cards to overthrow King Henry, than King Henry had to overthrow King Richard. And that if there were not a Sword drawn against them in Ireland, it was a sign the Swords in England would be soon sheathed, or beaten down. And first, for a Bravery upon this accession of Power, they Crowned their new King in the in the Cathedral Church of Dublin; who formerly had been but Proclaimed only; and then sate in Council what should further be done. At which Council, though it were propounded by some, that it were the best way to Establish themselves first in Ireland, and to make that the Seat of the War, and to draw King Henry thither in Person, by whose absence, they thought there would be great Alterations and Commotions in England, yet because the Kingdom there was poor, and they should not be able to keep their Army together, nor pay their German Soldiers, and for that also the sway of the Irish-men, and generally of the Men-of∣War, which (as in such cases of popular Tumults is usual) did in effect govern their Leaders, was eager, and in affection to make their Fortunes upon England: It was concluded with all possible

speed to transport their Forces into England. The King in the mean time, who at the first when he heard what was done in Ireland, though it troubled him, yet thought he should be well enough able to scatter the Irish as a Flight of Birds, and rattle away this Swarm of Bees, with their King; when he heard after∣wards that the Earl of Lincoln was embarqued in the Action, and that the Lady Margaret was declared for it, he apprehended the danger in a true Degree as it was, and saw plainly that his Kingdom must again be put to the Stake, and that he must fight for it. And first, he did conceive, before he understood of the Earl of Lincoln's sayling into Ireland out of Flanders, that he should be assailed both upon the East-parts of the Kingdom of England by some impression from Flanders, and upon the North∣west out of Ireland. And therefore having ordered Musters to be made in both Parts, and having provisionally designed two Generals, Jasper Earl of Bedford, and John Earl of Oxford, (meaning himself also to go in person, where the Affairs should most require it,) and nevertheless not expecting any actual Invasion at that time (the Winter being far on) he took his jour∣ney himself towards Suffolk and Norfolk, for the confirming of those parts. And being come to St. Edmonds-bury, he under∣stood, that Thomas, Marquess Dorset (who had been one of the Pledges in France) was hastning towards him, to purge himself of some Accusations which had been made against him. But the King, though he kept an Ear for him, yet was the time so doubtful, that he sent the Earl of Oxford to meet him, and forthwith to carry him to the Tower; with a fair Message never∣theless, that he should bear that disgrace with patience, for that the King meant not his hurt, but only to preserve him from doing hurt, either to the King's service, or to himself; and that the King should always be able (when he had cleared himself) to make him reparation.

From St. Edmonds-bury he went to Norwich, where he kept his Christmas. And from thence he went (in a manner of Pilgri∣mage) to Walsingham, where he visited our Ladies Church, fa∣mous for Miracles, and made his Prayers and Vows for help and deliverance. And from thence he returned by Cambridge to London. Not long after, the Rebels with their King (under the Leading of the Earl of Lincoln, the Earl of Kildare, the Lord Lovel, and Colonel Swart) landed at Fouldrey in Lancashire, whi∣ther there repaired to them, Sir Thomas Broughton, with some small company of English. The King by that time (knowing now the Storm would not divide, but fall in one place) had levied Forces in good number; and in person (taking with him his two designed Generals, the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Oxford) was come on his way towards them as far as Coventry, whence he sent forth a Troop of Light-horsmen for discovery, and

to intercept some straglers of the Enemies, by whom he might the better understand the particulars of their Progress and pur∣poses, which was accordingly done; though the King otherwise was not without Intelligence from Espials in the Camp.

The Rebels took their way towards York, without spoiling the Countrey, or any act of Hostility, the better to put them∣selves into favour of the People, and to personate their King: who (no doubt, out of a Princely feeling) was sparing, and compassionate towards his Subjects. But their Snow-ball did not gather as it went. For the People came not in to them: Neither did any rise or declare themselves in other parts of the Kingdom for them, which was caused partly by the good tast that the King had given his People of his Government, joyned with the reputation of his Felicity, and partly for that it was an odious thing to the People of England, to have a King brought in to them upon the shoulders of Irish and Dutch, of which their Army was in substance compounded. Neither was it a thing done with any great Judgement on the Party of the Rebels, for them to take their way towards York: Considering that howsoever those parts had formerly been a Nursery of their Friends; yet it was there, where the Lord Lovel had so lately disbanded, and where the King's presence had a little before qualified discontents. The Earl of Lincoln, deceived of his hopes of the Countries con∣course unto him, (in which case he would have temporized,) and seeing the business past Retract, resolved to make on where the King was, and to give him Battel; and thereupon, marched towards Newark, thinking to have surprised the Town. But the King was somewhat before this time come to Nottingham, where he called a Council of War, at which was consulted, whe∣ther it were best to protract time, or speedily to set upon the Rebels. In which Council the King himself (whose continual vigilancy did suck in sometimes causeless Suspitions, which few else knew) inclined to the accelerating a Battel. But this was presently put out of doubt, by the great Aids that came in to him in the instant of this Consultation, partly upon Missives, and partly Voluntaries from many parts of the Kingdom.

The principal persons that came then to the King's aid, were the Earl of Shrewsbury, and the Lord Strange, of the Nobility; and of Knights and Gentlemen to the number of at least Three∣score and ten persons, with their Companies, making in the whole, at the least Six Thousand fighting men, besides the Forces that were with the King before. Whereupon the King, finding his Army so bravely re-enforced, and a great alacrity in all his men to fight, was confirmed in his former Resolution, and marched speedily, so as he put himself between the Enemies Camp and Newark; being loth their Army should get the com∣modity of that Town. The Earl nothing dismayed, came

forwards that day unto a little Village called Stoke, and there camped that night, upon the brow or hanging of a Hill. The King the next day presented him Battel upon the Plain, the fields there being open and champion. The Earl couragiously came down and joyned Battel with him. Concerning which Battel, the Relations that are left unto us are so naked and negligent, (though it be an Action of so recent memory) as they rather declared the Success of the day, than the Manner of the Fight. They say, that the King divided his Army into three Battels, whereof the Vaunt-guard only well strengthned with Wings, came to fight. That the Fight was fierce and obstinate, and lasted three hours, before the Victory inclined either way; save that Judgement might be made, by that the King's Vaunt-guard of it self maintained fight against the whole Power of the Enemies, (the other two Battels remaining out of action,) what the success was like to be in the end: That Martin Swart with his Germans performed bravely; and so did those few English that were on that side, neither did the Irish fail in courage or fierceness, but being almost naked men, only armed with Darts and Skeins, it was rather an Execution, than a Fight upon them; insomuch as the furious slaughter of them was a great discouragement and appalement to the rest: That there dyed upon the place all the Chieftains; that is, the Earl of Lincoln, the Earl of Kildare, Francis Lord Lovel, Martin Swart, and Sir Thomas Broughton; all making good the fight, without any ground given. Only of the Lord Lovel there went a report, that he fled and swam over Trent on horseback, but could not recover the further side, by reason of the steepness of the Bank, and so was drowned in the River. But another report leaves him not there, but that he lived long after in a Cave or Vault. The number that was slain in the field, was of the Enemies part, Four thousand at the least; and of the King's part, one half of his Vaunt-guard, besides many hurt, but none of name. There were taken Pri∣soners, amongst others, the Counterfeit Plantagenet (now Lam∣bert Simnel again) and the crafty Priest his Tutor. For Lambert, the King would not take his Life, both out of Magnanimity, taking him but as an Image of Wax, that others had tempered and molded; and likewise out of Wisdom, thinking that if he suffered death, he would be forgotten too soon; but being kept alive, he would be a continual Spectacle, and a kind of remedy against the like Inchantments of People, in time to come. For which cause he was taken into service in his Court, to a base office in his Kitchin; so that (in a kind of Mattacina of humane fortune) he turned a Broach, that had worn a Crown: Whereas Fortune commonly doth not bring in a Comedy or Farce after a Tragedy. And afterwards he was preferred to be one of the King's Falconers. As to the Priest, he was committed Close∣prisoner,

and heard of no more, the King loving to seal up his own dangers.

After the Battel, the King went to Lincoln, where he caused Supplications and Thanksgivings to be made for his Deliverance and Victory. And that his Devotions might go round in Circle, he sent his Banner to be Offered to our Lady of Walsingham, where before he made his Vows. And thus delivered of this so strange an Engin and new Invention of Fortune, he returned to his former confidence of mind, thinking now, that all his mis∣fortunes had come at once. But it fell out unto him according to the Speech of the common People in the beginning of his Reign, that said; It was a token he should reign in Labour, because his Reign began with a sickness of Sweat. But howsoever the King thought himself now in a Haven, yet such was his Wisdom, as his Confidence did seldom darken his Fore-sight, especially in things near hand. And therefore awakened by so fresh, and unexpected dangers, he entred into due consideration, as well how to weed out the Partakers of the former Rebellion, as to kill the Seeds of the like in time to come: and withal to take away all shel∣ters and harbours for discontented Persons, where they might hatch and foster Rebellions, which afterwards might gather strength and motion. And first, he did yet again make a Progress from Lincoln to the Northern parts, though it were indeed rather an Itinerary Circuit of Justice, than a Progress. For all along as he went, with much severity and strict inquisition, partly by Mar∣tial Law, and partly by Commission, were punished, the Ad∣herents and Ayders of the late Rebels: not all by Death, (for the Field had drawn much blood,) but by Fines and Ransoms, which spared Life, and raised Treasure. Amongst other Crimes of this nature, there was diligent inquiry made of such as had raised and dispersed a bruit and rumour, a little before the Field fought, That the Rebels had the day; and that the King's Army was overthrown, and the King fled. Whereby it was supposed that many Succours, which otherwise would have come unto the King, were cunningly put off, and kept back. Which Charge and Accusation, though it had some ground, yet it was industriously embraced and put on by divers, who having been in themselves not the best affected to the King's part, nor forward to come to his ayd, were glad to apprehend this colour, to cover their neglect and coldness, under the pretence of such discouragements. Which cunning nevertheless, the King would not understand, though he lodged it, and noted it in some par∣ticulars, as his manner was.

But for the extirpating of the roots and causes of the like Com∣motions in time to come, the King began to find where his shooe did wring him, and that it was his depressing of the House of York, that did rancle and fester the Affections of his People. And

therefore being now too wise to disdain perils any longer, and willing to give some contentment in that kind (at least in Cere∣mony) he resolved at last to proceed to the Coronation of his Queen. And therefore at his coming to London, where he entred in State, and in a kind of Triumph, and celebrated his Victory, with two days of Devotion, (for the first day he repaired to St. Pauls, and had the Hymn of Te Deum sung, and the morrow after he went in Procession, and heard the Sermon at the Cross,) the Queen was with great solemnity Crowned at Westminster, the five and twentyeth of November, in the third year of his Reign, which was about two years after the Marriage; Like an old Christning, that had staid long for Godfathers. Which strange and unusual distance of time, made it subject to every man's note, that it was an Act against his stomach, and put upon him by necessity and reason of State. Soon after, to shew that it was now fair weather again, and that the Imprisonment of Thomas Marquess Dorset, was rather upon suspition of the Time, than of the Man, he the said Marquess was set at liberty without Examination, or other circumstance. At that time also the King sent an Ambassador unto Pope Innocent, signifying unto him this his Marriage, and that now (like another Aeneas) he had passed through the floods of his former Troubles and Travels, and was arrived unto a safe Haven: and thanking His Holiness, that he had honoured the Celebration of his Marriage with the presence of his Ambassador, and offering both his Person and the Forces of his Kingdom upon all occasions to do him service.

The Ambassador, making his Oration to the Pope, in the presence of the Cardinals, did so magnifie the King and Queen, as was enough to glut the Hearers. But then he did again so extol and deifie the Pope, as made all that he had said in praise of his Master and Mistress seem temperate and passable. But he was very honorably entertained, and extremely much made on by the Pope; who knowing himself to be lazy and unprofitable to the Christian World, was wonderfully glad to hear that there were such Eccho's of him sounding in remote parts. He obtained also of the Pope a very just and honorable Bull, qualifying the Priviledges of Sanctuary, (wherewith the King had been ex∣tremely galled) in three Points.

The first, that if any Sanctuary-man did by night, or other∣wise, get out of Sanctuary privily, and commit mischief and trespass, and then come in again, he should lose the benefit of Sanctuary for ever after. The second, that howsoever the Person of the Sanctuary-man was protected from his Creditors, yet his Goods out of Sanctuary should not. The third, that if any took Sanctuary for case of Treason, the King might appoint him Keepers to look to him in Sanctuary.

The King also for the better securing of his Estate, against

mutinous and male-contented Subjects (whereof he saw the Realm was full) who might have their refuge into Scotland, which was not under Key, as the Ports were: For that cause, rather than for any doubt of Hostility from those parts, before his coming to London (when he was at Newcastle) had sent a so∣lemn Ambassage unto James the Third, King of Scotland, to treat and conclude a Peace with him. The Ambassadors were Richard Fox Bishop of Exceter, and Sir Richard Edgcomb Comptroller of the King's House, who were honourably received and enter∣tained there. But the King of Scotland labouring of the same disease that King Henry did, (though more mortal, as afterwards appeared) that is, Discontented Subjects, apt to rise, and raise Tumult, although in his own affection he did much desire to make a Peace with the King: Yet finding his Nobles averse, and not daring to displease them, concluded only a Truce for seven years; giving nevertheless promise in private, that it should be renewed from time to time, during the two Kings lives.

HItherto the King had been exercised in setling his Affairs at home. But about this time brake forth an occasion that drew him to look abroad, and to hearken to forein business. Charles the Eighth the French King, by the virtue and good for∣tune of his two immediate Predecessors, Charles the Seventh his Grand-father, and Lewis the Eleventh his Father, received the Kingdom of France in more flourishing and spread Estate, than it had been of many years before; being redintegrate in those principal Members, which antiently had been portions of the Crown of France, and were after dissevered, so as they re∣mained only in Homage, and not in Sovereignty, (being go∣verned by absolute Princes of their own) Anjou, Normandy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Burgundy; there remained only Britain to be re-united, and so the Monarchy of France to be reduced to the antient Terms and Bounds.

King Charles was not a little inflamed with an ambition to re-purchase, and re-annex that Dutchy. Which his ambition was a wise and well-weighed Ambition; not like unto the ambitions of his succeeding Enterprizes of Italy. For at that time being newly come to the Crown, he was somewhat guided by his Father's Counsels, (Counsels, not Counsellors) for his Father was his own Counsel, and had few able men about him. And that King (he knew well) had ever distasted the Designs of Italy, and in par∣ticular had an Eye upon Britain. There were many circum∣stances that did feed the Ambition of Charles, with pregnant and apparent hopes of Success. The Duke of Britain old, and entred into a Lethargy, and served with Mercenary Counsellors, Father of two only Daughters, the one sick and not likely to continue. King Charles himself in the flower of his age, and

the Subjects of France at that time well trained for War, both for Leaders and Soldiers; men of service being not yet worn out, since the Wars of Lewis against Burgundy. He found himself also in Peace with all his Neighbour-Princes. As for those that might oppose to his Enterprize; Maximilian King of the Romans, his Rival in the same desires, (as well for the Dutchy, as the Daughter) feeble in means; and King Henry of England as well somewhat obnoxious to him for his favours and benefits, as busied in his particular troubles at home. There was also a fair and specious occasion offered him to hide his Ambition, and to justifie his Warring upon Britain, for that the Duke had re∣ceived and succoured Lewis Duke of Orleance, and other of the French Nobility; which had taken Arms against their King. Wherefore King Charles being resolved upon that War, knew well he could not receive any opposition so potent, as if King Henry should either upon Policy of State, in preventing the growing Greatness of France; or upon gratitude unto the Duke of Britain, for his former favours, in the time of his distress, espouse that Quarrel, and declare himself in ayd of the Duke. Therefore he no sooner heard that King Henry was setled by his Victory, but forth with he sent Ambassadors unto him, to pray his assistance, or at the least that he would stand neutral. Which Ambassadors found the King at Leicester, and delivered their Embassy to this effect: They first imparted unto the King the success that their Master had had a little before against Maximilian, in recovery of certain Towns from him: which was done in a kind of privacy, and inwardness towards the King; and if the French King did not esteem him for an outward or formal Confe∣derate, but as one that had part in his Affections and Fortunes, and with whom he took pleasure to communicate his Business. After this Compliment, and some gratulation for the King's Victory, they fell to their Errand; declaring to the King, that their Master was enforced to enter into a just and necessary War with the Duke of Britain, for that he had received and succoured those that were Traytors, and declared Enemies unto his Person and State. That they were no mean, distressed, and calamitous persons that fled to him for refuge, but of so great quality, as it was apparent that they came not thither to pro∣tect their own fortune, but to infest and invade his; the Head of them being the Duke of Orleance, the first Prince of the Blood, and the second Person of France. That therefore, rightly to understand it, it was rather on their Master's part a Defensive War, than an Offensive; as that, that could not be omitted or forborn, if he tendred the conservation of his own Estate; and that it was not the first Blow that made the War Invasive, (for that no wise Prince would stay for) but the first Provocation, or at least the first Preparation. Nay that this War was rather a

suppression of Rebels, than a War with a just Enemy, where the Case is; That his Subjects, Traytors, are received by the Duke of Britain his Homager. That King Henry knew well what went upon it in example, if Neighbour Princes should patronize and comfort Rebels, against the Law of Nations and of Leagues. Nevertheless that their Master was not ignorant, that the King had been beholding to the Duke of Britain in his adversity; as on the other side, they knew he would not forget also the readiness of their King, in ayding him when the Duke of Britain, or his mercenary Counsellors failed him, and would have betrayed him; And that there was a great difference between the courtesies received from their Master, and the Duke of Britain; for that the Dukes might have ends of Utility and Bargain, whereas their Masters could not have proceeded but out of entire Affection. For that, if it had been measured by a politick line, it had been better for his affairs, that a Tyrant should have reigned in Eng∣land, troubled and hated, than such a Prince, whose virtues could not fail to make him great and potent, whensoever he was come to be Master of his affairs. But howsoever it stood for the point of Obligation, which the King might owe to the Duke of Britain, yet their Master was well assured, it would not di∣vert King Henry of England from doing that, that was just, nor ever embarque him in so ill-grounded a Quarrel. Therefore, since this War which their Master was now to make, was but to deliver himself from imminent dangers, their King hoped the King would shew the like affection to the conservation of their Master's Estate, as their Master had (when time was) shewed to the King's acquisition of his Kingdom. At the least, that according to the inclination which the King had ever professed of Peace, he would look on, and stand Neutral; for that their Master could not with reason press him to undertake part in the War, being so newly setled and recovered from intestine Se∣ditions. But touching the Mystery of re-annexing of the Dutchy of Britain to the Crown of France, either by War, or by Marriage with the Daughter of Britain; the Ambassadors bare aloof from it, as from a Rock, knowing that it made most against them. And therefore by all means declined any mention thereof, but contrariwise interlaced in their conference with the King, the assured purpose of their Master, to match with the Daughter of Maximilian; And entertained the King also with some wandring Discourses of their King's purpose, to recover by Arms his right to the Kingdom of Naples, by an expedition in Person; All to remove the King from all-jealousie of any Design, in these hither Parts upon Britain, otherwise than for quenching of the Fire, which he feared might be kindled in his own Estate.

The King after advice taken with his Council, made answer to the Ambassadors. And first returned their Compliment, shewing

he was right glad of the French King's reception of those Towns from Maximilian. Then he familiarly related some particular passages of his own Adventures and Victory passed. As to the business of Britain, the King answered in few words; That the French King and the Duke of Britain, were the two persons to whom he was most obliged of all men; and that he should think himself very happy, if things should go so between them, as he should not be able to acquit himself in gratitude towards them both; and that there was no means for him as a Christian King and a common Friend to them, to satisfie all Obligations both to God and man, but to offer himself for a Mediator of an Accord and Peace between them; by which course he doubted not but their King's Estate, and Honour both, would be preserved with more Safety and less Envy than by a War, and that he would spare no cost or pains, no if it were To go on Pilgrimage, for so good an effect; And concluded, that in this great Affair, which he took so much to heart, he would express himself more fully by an Ambassage, which he would speedily dispatch unto the French King for that purpose. And in this sort the French Am∣bassadors were dismissed; the King avoiding to understand any thing touching the re-annexing of Britain, as the Ambassadors had avoided to mention it; save that he gave a little touch of it in the word, Envy. And so it was, that the King was neither so shallow, nor so ill advertised, as not to perceive the intention of the French, for the investing himself of Britain. But first he was utterly unwilling (howsoever he gave out) to enter into War with France. A Fame of a War he liked well, but not an At∣chievement; for the one he thought would make him Richer, and the other Poorer: and he was possessed with many secret fears, touching his own People, which he was therefore loth to arm, and put Weapons into their hands. Yet notwithstanding (as a prudent and couragious Prince) he was not so averse from a War, but that he was resolved to choose it, rather than to have Britain carried by France, being so great and opulent a Dutchy, and situate 〈◊〉〈◊〉 opportunely to annoy England, either for Coast, or Trade. But the King's hopes were, that partly by negligence, commonly imputed to the French, (especially in the Court of a young King) and partly by the native, power of Britain it self, which was not small; but chiefly in respect of the great Party, that the Duke of Orleance had in the Kingdom of France, and thereby means to stir up Civil troubles, to divert the French King from the Enterprize of Britain: And lastly, in regard of the Power of Maximilian, who was Cotrival to the French King in that pursuit, the Enterprize would either bow to a Peace, or break in it self. In all which, the King measured and valued things amiss, as afterwards appeared. He sent therefore forth with to the French King, Christopher Urswick, his Chaplain, a person by him

much trusted and employed; choosing him the rather, because he was a Church-man, as best sorting with an Embassy of Pacifi∣cation: and giving him also a Commission, That if the French King consented to Treat, he should thence repair to the Duke of Bri∣tain, and ripen the Treaty on both parts. Urswick made decla∣ration to the French King, much to the purpose of the King's answer to the French Ambassadors here; instilling also tenderly some overture of receiving to grace the Duke of Orleance, and some tasted of Conditions of Accord. But the French King on the other side proceeded not sincerely, but with a great deal of art and dissimulation, in this Treaty; having for his end to gain time, and so put off the English Succours, under hope of Peace, till he had got good footing in Britain, by force of Arms. Where∣fore he answered the Ambassador, That he would put himself into the King's hands, and make him Arbiter of the Peace: and willingly consent, that the Ambassador should straightways pass into Britain, to signifie this his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and to know the Duke's mind likewise; well fore-seeing, that the Duke of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, by whom the Duke of Britain was wholly led, taking himself to be upon terms irreconcilable with him, would admit of no Treaty of Peace. Whereby he should in one, both generally abroad veil over his Ambition, and win the reputation of just and moderate proceedings; and should withal endear himself in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the King of England, as one, that had commit∣ted all to his Will: Nay, and (which was yet more fine) make faith in him, That although he went on with the War, yet it should be but with his Sword in his hand, to bend the stiffness of the other party to accept of Peace: and so the King should take no umbrage of his arming and prosecution; but the Treaty to be kept on foot, to the very last instant, till he were Master of the Field.

Which grounds being by the French King wisely laid, all things fell out as he expected. For when the English Ambassador came to the Court of Britain, the Duke was then scarcely perfect 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his memory, and all things were directed by the Duke of Orleance; who gave audience to the Chaplain Urswick, and upon his Ambassage delivered, made answer in somewhat high terms, That the Duke of Britain having been an Host, and a kind of Parent or Foster-father to the King, in his tenderness of age, and weakness of fortune, did look for at this time from King Henry (the renowned King of England) rather brave Troops for for his Succours, than a vain Treaty of Peace. And if the King could forget the good Offices of the Duke done unto him 〈◊〉〈◊〉; yet he knew well, he would in his Wisdom consider of the future, how much it imported his own Safety and Reputation, both in Foreign parts, and with his own People, not to suffer Britain (the old Confederates of England) to be swallowed up

by France, and so many good Ports, and strong Towns upon the Coast, be in the command of so potent a Neighbour-King, and so ancient an Enemy. And therefore humbly desired the King to think of this business as his own; and therewith brake off, and denyed any further Conference for Treaty.

Urswick returned first to the French King, and related to him what had passed. Who finding things to sort to his desire, took hold of them, and said; That the Ambassador might perceive now, that which he for his part, partly, imagined before; That considering in what hands the Duke of Britain was, there would be no Peace, but by a mixt Treaty of force and perswa∣sion. And therefore he would go on with the one, and desired the King not to desist from the other. But for his own part, he did faithfully promise, to be still in the King's power, to rule him in the matter of Peace. This was accordingly represented unto the King-by Urswick at his return, and in such a fashion, as if the Treaty were in no sort desperate, but rather stayd for a better hour, till the Hammer had wrought, and beat the Party of Britain more pliant. Whereupon there passed continually Pacquets and Dispatches between the two Kings, from the one out of desire, and from the other out of dissimulation, about the ne∣gotiation of Peace. The French King mean-while invaded Bri∣tain with great Forces, and distressed the City of Nantes with a strait Siege, and (as one, who though he had no great Judge∣ment, yet had that, that he could Dissemble home) the more he did urge the prosecution of the War, the more he did at the same time, urge the solicitation of the Peace. Insomuch as during the Siege of Nantes, after many Letters and particular Messa∣ges, the better to maintain his dissimulation, and to refresh the Treaty, he sent Bernard Daubigney (a person of good quality) to the King, earnestly to desire him, to make an end of the business howsoever.

The King was no less ready to revive and quicken the Treaty; and thereupon sent three Commissioners, the Abbot of Abbington, Sir Richard Tunstal, and Chaplain Urswick formerly employed, to do their utmost endeavours, to manage the Treaty roundly and strongly.

About this time the Lord Woodvile, (Uncle to the Queen) a valiant Gentleman, and desirous of Honour, sued to the King, that he might raise some Power of Voluntaries under-hand, and without licence or pasport (wherein the King might any ways appear) go to the ayd of the Duke of Britain. The King denyed his request, (or at least seemed so to do) and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 strait Com∣mandment upon him, that he should not stir, for that the King thought his Honour would suffer therein, during a Treaty, to better a Party. Nevertheless this Lord (either being unruly, or out of conceit that the King would not inwardly dislike that,

which he would not openly avow) sailed secretly over into the Isle of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, whereof he was Governour, and levied a fair Troop of four hundred men, and with them passed over into Britain, and joyned himself with the Duke's forces. The news whereof when it came to the French Court, put divers Young bloods into such a fury, as the English Ambassadors were not without peril to be outraged. But the French King, both to preserve the Priviledge of Ambassadors, and being conscious to himself, that in the business of Peace, he himself was the greater dissembler of the two, forbad all injuries of fact or word, against their Persons; or Followers. And presently came an Agent from the King, to purge himself touching the Lord Woodvile's going over, using for a principal argument, to demonstrate that it was without his privity, for that the Troops were so small, as neither had the face of a Succour by Authority, nor could much advance the Britains Affairs. To which Message, although the French King gave no full credit, yet he made fair weather with the King, and seemed satisfied. Soon after the English Ambassa∣dors returned, having two of them been likewise with the Duke of Britain, and found things in no other terms, than they were before. Upon their return, they informed the King of the state of the Affairs, and how far the French King was from any true meaning of Peace; and therefore he was now to advise of some other course. Neither was the King himself 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all this while with credulity meerly, as was generally supposed; but his Errour was not so much facility of belief, as an ill-measuring of the Forces of the other Party.

For (as was partly touched before) the King had cast the business thus with himself. He took it for granted in his own judgement, that the War of Britain, in respect of the strength of the Towns, and of the Party, could not speedily come to a period. For he conceived that the Counsels of a War, that was undertaken by the French King, then Childless, against an Heir-apparent of France, would be very faint and slow. And besides, that it was not possible, but that the state of France should be embroyled with some troubles and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in favour of the Duke of Orleance. He conceived likewise, that Maxi∣milian, King of the Romans, was a Prince warlike and potent, who (he made account) would give succours to the Britains roundly. So then judging it would be a work of Time, he laid his Plot, how he might best make use of that Time, for his own affairs. Wherein first he thought to make his vantage upon his Parliament; knowing that they being affectionate unto the Quarrel of Britain, would give Treasure largely. Which Treasure, as a noise of War might draw forth, so a Peace succeeding might coffer up. And because he knew his People were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon the business, he chose rather to seem to be deceived, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉

asleep by the French, than to be backward in himself; consi∣dering his Subjects were not so fully capable of the reasons of State, which made him hold back. Wherefore to all these pur∣poses he saw no other expedient, than to set and keep on foot a continual Treaty of Peace; laying it down, and taking it up again, as the occurrence required. Besides, he had in conside∣ration the point of Honour in bearing the blessed person of a Pa∣cificator. He thought likewise to make use of the Envy, that the French King met with, by occasion of this War of Britain, in strengthning himself with new Alliances; as namely that of Ferdinando of Spain, with whom he had ever a consent even in Nature and Customs, and likewise with Maximilian, who was particularly interessed. So that in substance he promised himself Money, Honour, Friends, and Peace in the end. But those things were too fine to be fortunate, and succeed in all parts; for that great affairs are commonly too rough and stubborn to be wrought upon by the finer edges, or points of Wit. The King was likewise deceived in his two main grounds. For although he had reason to conceive, that the Council of France would be wary to put the King into a War against the Heir-apparent of France; yet he did not consider, that Charles was not guided by any of the principal of the Blood or Nobility, but by mean men, who would make it their Master-piece, of Credit and Favour, to give venturous Counsols, which no great or wise man durst or would. And for Maximilian, he was thought then a Greater-matter than he was; his unstable and necessitous Courses being not then known.

After Consultation with the Ambassadors, who brought him no other news, than he expected before, (though he would not seem to know it till then) he presently summoned his Parliament, and in open Parliament propounded the Cause of Britain to both Houses, by his Chancellor Morton Archbishop of Canterbury, who spake to this effect:

MY Lords and Masters; The King's Grace our Sovereign Lord, hath commanded me to declare unto you the Causes that have moved him at this time to summon this his Parliament; which I shall do in few words, craving Pardon of his Grace, and you all, if I perform it not as I would.

His Grace doth first of all let you know, that he retaineth in thankful memory the Love and Loyalty shewed to him by you, at your last Meeting, in Establishment of his Royalty; freeing and discharging of his Partakers, and confiscation of his Traytors and Rebels: more than which could not come from Subjects to their Sovereign, in one action. This he taketh so well at your hands, as he hath made it a Resolution to himself to communicate with so loving and well-approved Subjects, in all Affairs that are of publick nature, at home or abroad.

Two therefore are the causes of your present Assembling: the one, a Forein business; the other, matter of Government at home.

The French King (as no doubt ye have heard) maketh at this present hot War upon the Duke of Britain. His Army is now be∣fore Nantes, and holdeth it straitly Besieged, being the principal City (if not in Creremony and Preheminence, yet in Strength and Wealth) of that Duchy. Ye may guess at his Hopes, by his at∣tempting of the hardest part of the War first. The cause of this War he knoweth best. He alledgeth the entertaining and succouring of the Duke of Orleance, and some other French Lords, whom the King taketh for his Enemies. Others divine of other Matters. Both parts have by their Ambassadors divers times prayed the King's Ayds: The French King, Ayds or Neutrality; the Britons, Ayds simply; for so their case requireth. The King, as a Christian Prince, and blessed Son of the Holy Church, hath offered himself as a Mediator, to treat a Peace between them. The French King yieldeth to Treat, but will not stay the prosecution of the War. The Britons, that desire Peace most, hearken to it least; not upon considence or stiffness, but upon distrust of true meaning, seeing the War goes on. So as the King, after as much pains and care to effect a Peace, as ever he took in any business, not being able to remove the Prosecution on the one side, nor the Distrust on the other, caused by that Prosecution, hath let fall the Treaty; not repenting of it, but despairing of it now, as not likely to succeed. Therefore by this Narrative you now understand the state of the Question, whereupon the King prayeth your Advice; which is no other, but whether he shall enter into an auxiliary and defensive War for the Britons, against France.

And the better to open your understandings in this Affair, the King bath commanded me to say somewhat to you from him, of the Persons that do intervene in this Business; and somewhat of the Consequence thereof, as it hath relation to this Kingdom; and somewhat of the Example of it in general: making nevertherless no Conclusion or Judge∣ment of any Point, until his Grace hath received your faithful and politique Advices.

First, for the King our Sovereign himself, who is the principal Person you are to eye in this business; his Grace doth profess, that he truly and constantly desireth to reign in Peace. But his Grace saith, he will neither buy Peace with Dishonour, nor take it up at interest of Danger to ensue; but shall think it a good Change, if it pleased God to change the inward Troubles and Seditions, wherewith he hath been hitherto exercised, into an honourable Forein War. And for the other two Persons in this Action, the French King, and the Duke of Bri∣tain, his Grace doth declare unto you, that they be the men, unto whom he is of all other Friends and Allies most bounden: the one having held over him his hand of Protection from the Tyrant; the other having reacht forth unto him his hand of help, for the Recovery of his Kingdom. So that his affection toward them in his natural Person, is upon equal

terms. And whereas you may have heard, that his Grace was en∣forced to fly out of Britain into France, for doubts of being betrayed; his Grace would not in any sort have that reflect upon the Duke of Bri∣tain, in defacement of his former benefits: for that he is throughly informed, that it was but the practice of some corrupt persons about him, during the time of his Sickness, altogether without his consent or privity.

But howsoever these things do interess his Grace in his particular, yet he knoweth well that the higher Bond that tyeth him to procure by all means the safety and welfare of his loving Subjects, doth dis-interess him of these Obligations of Gratitude, otherwise than thus; that if his Grace be forced to make a War, he do it without Passion, or Ambition.

For the consequence of this Action towards this Kingdom, it is much as the French King's intention is. For if it be no more, but to range his Subjects to reason, who bear themselves stout upon the strength of the Duke of Britain, it is nothing to us. But if it be in the French King's purpose, or if it should not be in his purpose, yet if it shall follow all one, as if it were sought, that the French King shall make a Province of Britain, and joyn it to the Crown of France: then it is worthy the consideration, how this may import England, as well in the increasement of the greatness of France, by the addition of such a Countrey, that stretcheth his Boughs unto our Seas, as in depriving this Nation, and leaving it so naked of so firm and assured Confederates, as the Britons have always been. For then it will come to pass, that whereas not long since, this Realm was mighty upon the Continent, first in Territory, and after in Alliance, in respect of Burgundy and Britain, which were Confederates indeed, but dependant Confederates; now the one being already cast, partly into the greatness of France, and partly into that of Austria, the other is like wholly to be cast into the greatness of France, and this Island shall remain confined in effect within the Salt-Waters, and girt about with the Coast-Countries of two mighty Monarchs.

For the Example, it resteth likewise upon the same Question, upon the French King's intent. For if Britain be carried and swallowed up by France, as the World abroad (apt to impute and construe the Actions of Princes to Ambition) conceive it will; then it is an Example very dangerous and universal, that the lesser Neighbour-Estate should be devoured of the greater. For this may be the case of Scotland, to∣wards England; of Portugal, towards Spain; of the smaller Estates of Italy, towards the greater; and so of Germany; or as if some of you of the Commons might not live and dwell safely, besides some of these great Lords. And the bringing in of this Example, will be chiefly laid to the King's charge, as to him that was most interessed and most able to forbid it. But then on the other side, there is so fair a Pretext on the French King's part, (and yet pretext is never wanting to power) in regard the danger imminent to his own Estate is such; as may make this Enterprize seem rather a work of Necessity, than of

Ambition, as doth in reason correct the Danger of the Example. For that the Example of that which is done in a man's own defence, cannot be dangerous; because it is in another's power to avoid it. But in all this business, the King remits himself to your grave and mature Ad∣vice, whereupon he purposeth to rely.

This was the effect of the Lord Chancellor's Speech touching the Cause of Britain: For the King had commanded him to carry it so, as to affect the Parliament towards the Business; but without engaging the King in any express Declaration.

The Chancellor went on:

FOR that which may concern the Government at home, the King hath commanded me to say unto you; That he thinketh there was never any King (for the small time that he hath reigned) had greater and juster cause of the two contrary Passions of Joy and Sorrow, than his Grace hath. Joy, in respect of the rare and visible Favours of Almighty GOD in girting the Imperial Sword upon his side; and assisting the same his Sword against all his Enemies: and likewise in blessing him with so many good and loving Servants and Subjects, which have never failed to give him faithful Counsel, ready Obedience, and couragious Defence. Sorrow for that it both not pleased God to suffer him to sheath his Sword, (as he greatly desired, otherwise than for Administration of Justice) but that he hath been forced to draw it so oft, to cut off Trayterous and disloyal Subjects, whom (it seems) God hath left (a few amongst many good) as the Canaanites among the People of Israel to be thorns in their sides, to tempt and try them though the end hath been always (God's Name be blessed therefore) that the Destruction hath faln upon their own Heads.

Wherefore his Grace saith; That he seeth that it is not the Blood spelt in the Field, that will save the Blood in the City not the Mar∣shal's Sword, that will set this Kingdom in perfect Peace: But that the true way is, to stop the Seeds of Sedition and Rebellion in their beginnings; and for that purpose to devise, confirm, and quicken good and wholsom Laws, against Riots and unlawful Assemblies of People and all Combinations and Confederacies of them; by Liveries, Tokens, and other Badges of Factious dependance; that the Peace of the Land may by these Ordinances, as by Bars of Iron, be soundly bound in and strengthned, and all Force, both in Court, Countrey, and private Houses, be supprest. The care hereof, which so much concern eth your selves, and which the nature of the Times doth instantly calls for his Grace commends to your Wisdoms.

And because it is the King's desire, that this Peace, wherein he hopeth to govern and maintain you, do not bear only'unto you. Leaves for you to sit under the shade of them in Safety; but also should bear you fruit of Riches, Wealth and Plenty: Therefore his Grace prays you

to take into consideration matter of Trade, as also the Manufactures of the Kingdom, and to repress the bastard and barren Employment of Moneys, to Usury and unlawful Exchanges, that they may be (as their natural use is) turned upon Commerce, and lawful and Royal Trading. And likewise, that Our People be set on work in Arts and Handy∣crafts; that the Realm may subsist more of it self; that Idleness be avoided, and the draining out of our Treasure, for Foreign Manufa∣ctures, stopped. But you are not to rest here only, but to provide further, that whatsoever Merchandize shall be brought in from beyond the Seas, may be employed upon the Commodities of this Land; whereby the Kingdoms stock of Treasure may be sure to be kept from being dimi∣nished, by any over-trading of the Foreiner.

And lastly, because the King is well assured, that you would not have him poor, that wishes you rich; he doubteth not, but that you will have care, as well to maintain his Revenues, of Customs, and all other Natures, as also to supply him with your loving Ayds, if the case shall so require. The rather, for that you know the King is a good Husband, and but a Steward in effect for the Publick; and that what comes from you is but as Moisture drawn from the Earth, which gathers into a Cloud, and falls back upon the Earth again. And you know well, how the Kingdoms about you grow more and more in Greatness, and the Times are stirring; and therefore not fit to find the King with an empty Purse. More I have not to say to you; and wish, that what hath been said, had been better exprest: But that your Wisdoms and good Affections will supply. GOD bless your Doings.

IT was no hard matter to dispose and affect the Parliament in this Business, as well in respect of the Emulation between the Nations, and the Envy at the late growth of the French Monarchy; as in regard of the Danger, to suffer the French to make their approaches upon England, by obtaining so goodly a Maritim Province, full of Sea-Towns, and Havens, that might do mischief to the English, either by Invasion, or by interruption of Traffick. The Parliament was also moved with the point of Oppression; for although the French seemed to speak Reason, yet Arguments are ever with multitudes too weak for Suspitions. Wherefore they did advise the King roundly to embrace the Bri∣tons Quarrel, and to send them speedy Ayds, and with much alacrity and forwardness granted to the King a great rate of Subsidy, in contemplation of these Ayds. But the King both to keep a decency towards the French King, to whom he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 himself to be obliged, and indeed desirous rather to shew War, than to make it; sent new solemn Ambassadors to intimate unto him, the Decree of his Estates, and to iterate his motion, that the French would desist from Hostilitiy; or if War must follow, to desire him to take it in good part, if at the motion of his People, who were sensible of the cause of the Britons as the ancient

Friends, and Confederates, he did send them Succours; with protestation nevertheless, that to save all Treaties and Laws of Friendship, he had limited his Force, to proceed in ayd of the Britons, but in no wise to war upon the French, otherwise than as they maintained the possession of Britain. But before this formal Ambassage arrived, the Party of the Duke had received a great blow, and grew to manifest declination. For near the Town of Saint Alban in Britain, a Battel had been given, where the Britons were overthrown, and the Duke of Orleance, and the Prince of Orange taken Prisoners; there being slain on the Britons part six thousand men, and amongst them the Lord Wood∣vile, and almost all his Souldiers, valiantly fighting. And of the French part one thousand two hundred, with their Leader, James Galeot, a great Commander.

When the news of this Battel came over into England, it was time for the King (who now had no subterfuge to continue fur∣ther Treaty, and saw before his Eyes, that Britain went so speedily for lost, contrary to his hopes, knowing also that with his People and Foreiners both, he sustained no small Envy and dis∣reputation for his former delays) to dispatch with all possible speed his Succour into Britain; which he did under the Conduct of Robert Lord Brook, to the number of eight thousand choise men, and well armed; who having a fair wind, in few hours landed in Britain, and joyned themselves forthwith to those Briton Forces, that remained after the Defeat, and marched straight on to find the Enemy, and encamped fast by them. The French wisely husbanding the possession of a Victory, and well acquainted with the Courage of the English, especially when they are fresh, kept themselves within their Trenches, being strongly lodged, and resolved not to give Battel. But mean∣while, to harrass and weary the English, they did upon all ad∣vantages set upon them with their Light-horse; wherein never∣theless they received commonly loss, especially by means of the English Archers.

But upon these Atchievements Francis Duke of Britain de∣ceased; an accident that the King might easily have foreseen, and ought to have reckoned upon, and provided for, but that the Point of Reputation, when news first came of the Battel lost, (that somewhat must be done) did over-bear the Reason of War.

After the Duke's decease, the principal persons of Britain, partly bought, partly through faction, put all things into con∣fusion; so as the English not finding Head or Body with whom to joyn their Forces, and being in jealousie of Friends, as well as in danger of Enemies, and the Winter begun, returned home five Months after their landing. So the Battel of Saint Alban, the death of the Duke, and the retire of the English Succours were (after some time) the causes of the loss of that Duchy;

which action some accounted as a blemish of the King's Judge∣ment; but most, but as the misfortune of his times.

But howsoever the temporary Fruit of the Parliament in their Ayd and Advice given for Britain, took not, nor prospered not; yet the lasting Fruit of Parliament, which is good and wholesom Laws, did prosper, and doth yet continue to this day. For according to the Lord Chancellor's admonition, there were that Parliament divers excellent Laws ordained, concerning the Points which the King recommended.

First, the Authority of the Star-Chamber, which before sub∣sisted by the ancient Common-Laws of the Realm, was con∣firmed in certain Cases by Act of Parliament. This Court is one of the sagest and noblest Institutions of this Kingdom. For in the distribution of Courts of Ordinary Justice (besides the High Court of Parliament) in which distribution the King's-Bench holdeth the Pleas of the Crown, the Common-Place, Pleas-Civil, the Exchequer-Pleas concerning the King's Revenue, and the Chancery the Pretorian power for mitigating the rigour of Law, in case of extremity, by the conscience of a good man; there was never∣theless always reserved a high and preheminent power to the King's Council, in Causes that might in example, or consequence, concern the state of the Common-wealth, which if they were Criminal, the Council used to sit in the Chamber, called the Star∣Chamber; if Civil, in the White-Chamber, or White-Hall. And as the Chancery had the Pretorian power for Equity, so the Star∣Chamber had the Censorian power for Offences, under the de∣gree of Capital. This Court of Star-Chamber is compounded of good Elements: for it consisteth of four kinds of Persons, Counsellors, Peers, Prelates, and chief Judges. It discerneth also principally of four kinds of Causes; Forces, Frauds, Crimes various of Stellionate, and the Inchoations or middle, acts to∣wards Crimes capital; or heinous, not actually committed or perpetrated. But that which was principally aimed at by this act was Force, and the two chief Supports of Force, Combi∣nation of Multitudes, and Maintenance or Headship of Great persons.

From the general peace of the Countrey, the King's care went on to the peace of the King's House, and the security of his great Officers and Counsellors. But this Law was somewhat of a strange composition and temper; That if any of the King's Servants under the degree of a Lord, do conspire the death of any of the King's Council; or Lord of the Realm, it is made Capital. This Law was thought to be procured by the Lord Chancellor, who being a stern and haughty man, and finding he had some mortal Enemies in Court, provided for his own safety; drowning the envy of it in a general Law, by communicating the priviledge with all other Counsellors and Peers, and yet not daring to extend it

further, than to the King's Servants in Check-roll, lest it should have been too harsh to the Gentlemen, and other Commons of the Kingdom; who might have thought their ancient Liberty, and the clemency of the Laws of England invaded, If the will in any case of Felony should be made the deed. And yet the reason which the Act yieldeth (that is to say, That he that conspireth the death of Counsellors may be thought indirectly, and by a mean 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conspire the death of the King himself,) is indifferent to all Subjects, as well as to Servants in Court. But it seemeth this sufficed to serve the Lord Chancellor's turn at this time. But yet he lived to need a General Law, for that he grew afterwards as odious to the Countrey, as he was then to the Court.

From the peace of the King's House, the King's care extended to the peace of Private Houses and Families. For there was an excellent Moral Law molded thus; The taking and carrying away of Women forcibly, and against their will (except Female∣Wards and Bond-Women) was made Capital. The Parliament wisely and justly conceiving, that the obtaining of Women by force into Possession (howsoever afterwards Assent might follow by Al∣lurements) was but a Rape drawn forth in length, because the first Force drew on all the rest.

There was made also another Law for Peace in general, and repressing of Murthers and Man-slaughters, and was in amendment of the Common Laws of the Realm, being this: That whereas by the Common Law, the King's Suit in case of Homicide, did expect the Year and the Day, allowed to the Parties Suit by way of Appeal; and that it was found by experience, that the Party was many times compounded with, and many times wearied with the Suit, so that in the end such Suit was let fall, and by that time the matter was in a manner forgotten, and thereby Prose∣cution at the King's Suit by Indictment (which is ever best, Fla∣grante crimine) neglected; it was Ordained, That the Suit by Indictment might be taken as well at any time within the Year and the Day, as after, not prejudicing nevertheless the Parties Suit.

The King began also then, as well in Wisdom as in Justice to pare a little the Priviledge of Clergy, ordaining, That Clerks convict should be burned in the hand; both because they might taste of some corporal Punishment, and that they might carry a Brand of Infamy. But for this good Acts sake, the King himself was after branded by Perkin's Proclamation, for an execrable breaker of the Rites of Holy Church.

Another Law was made for the better Peace of the Countrey; by which Law the King's Officers and Farmors were to forfeit their Places and Holds, in case of unlawful Retainer, or partaking in Routs and unlawful Assemblies.

These were the Laws that were made for repressing of Force,

which those times did chiefly require; and were so prudently framed, as they are found fit for all succeeding times, and so continue to this day.

There were also made good and politick Laws that Parliament against Usury, which is the Bastard-use of Money; And against unlawful Chievances and Exchanges, which is Bastard-Usury; And also for the Security of the King's Customs; And for the Em∣ployment of the Procedures of Forein Commodities, brought in by Merchant-strangers, upon the Native-Commodities of the Realm; together with some other Laws of less importance.

But howsoever the Laws made in that Parliament did bear good and wholesom Fruit; yet the Subsidy granted at the same time, bare a Fruit, that proved harsh and bitter. All was inned at last into the King's Barn; but it was after a Storm. For when the Commissioners entred into the Taxation of the Subsidy in Yorkshire, and the Bishoprick of Duresm; the People upon a sud∣den grew into great mutiny, and said openly, that they had endured of late years a thousand miseries, and neither could nor would pay the Subsidy. This (no doubt) proceeded not simply of any present necessity, but much by reason of the old humour of those Countries, where the memory of King Richard was so strong, that it lyes like Lees in the bottom of mens hearts; and if the Vessel was but stirred, it would come up. And (no doubt) it was partly also by the instigation of some factious Malecontents, that bare principal stroke amongst them. Hereupon the Com∣missioners being somewhat astonished, deferred the matter unto the Earl of Northumberland, who was the principal man of Au∣thority in those Parts. The Earl forthwith wrote unto the Court, signifying to the King plainly enough in what flame he found the people of those Countries, and praying the King's direction. The King wrote back peremptorily, That he would not have one penny abated, of that which had been granted to him by Parliament, both because it might encourage other Coun∣tries to pray the like Release or Mitigation, and chiefly, because he would never endure, that the base Multitude should frustrate the Authority of the Parliament, wherein their Votes and Con∣sents were concluded. Upon this dispatch from Court, the Earl assembled the principal Justices and Free-holders of the Countrey; and speaking to them in that imperious Language wherein the King had written to him, which needed not, (save that an harsh business was unfortunately fallen into the hands of a harsh man,) did not only irritate the People, but make them conceive, by the stoutness and haughtiness of delivery of the King's Errand; that himself was the Author or principal Perswader of that Coun∣sel. Whereupon the meaner sort routed together, and suddenly assailing the Earl in his house, slew him, and divers of his ser∣vants. And rested not there, but creating for their Leader Sir

John Egremond, a factious person, and one that had of a long time born an ill Talent towards the King; and being animated also by a base Fellow, called John A Chamber, a very Boutefeu, who bare much sway amongst the vulgar and popular, entred into open Rebellion, and gave out in flat terms that they would go against King Henry, and fight with him for the maintenance of their Liberties.

When the King was advertised of this new Insurrection (being almost a Fever that took him every year) after his manner little troubled therewith, he sent Thomas Earl of Surrey (whom he had a little before not only released out of the Tower, and pardoned, but also received to special favour) with a competent Power against the Rebels; who fought with the principal Band of them, and defeated them, and took alive John A Chamber, their fire∣brand. As for Sir John Egremond, he fled into Flanders, to the Lady Margaret of Burgundy; whose Palace was the Sanctuary and Rece∣ptacle of all Traytors against the King. John A Chamber was Executed at York, in great state; for he was hanged upon a Gibbet raised a Stage higher in the midst of a square Gallows, as a Tray∣tor paramount; and a number of his men that were his chief Complices, were hanged upon the lower Story round about him; and the rest were generally pardoned. Neither did the King himself omit his custom, to be first or second in all his Warlike Exploits; making good his Word, which was usual with him when he heard of Rebels; that He desired but to see them. For immediately after he had sent down the Earl of Surrey, he marched towards them himself in person. And although in his journey he heard news of the Victory, yet he went on as far as York, to pacifie and settle those Countries. And that done returned to London, leaving the Earl of Surrey for his Lieutenant in the Northern parts, and Sir Richard Tunstal for his principal Com∣missioner, to levy the Subsidy, whereof he did not remit a Denier.

About the same time that the King lost so good a Servant, as the Earl of Northumberland, he lost likewise a faithful Friend and Allie of James the Third, King of Scotland, by a miserable disaster. For this unfortunate Prince, after a long smother of discontent, and hatred of many of his Nobility and People, breaking forth at times into seditions and alterations of Court, was at last di∣stressed by them, having taken Arms, and surprised the person of Prince James his Son, partly by force, partly by threats that they would otherwise deliver up the Kingdom to the King of England, to shadow their Rebellion, and to be the titular and painted Head of those Arms. Whereupon the King (finding himself too weak) sought unto King Henry, as also unto the Pope, and the King of France, to compose those troubles, between him and his Subjects. The King accordingly interposed their Mediation in a round and Princely manner: Not only by way of

request and perswasion, but also by way of protestation of me∣nace; declaring, that they thought it to be the common Cause of all Kings, If Subjects should be suffered to give Laws unto their Sovereign; and that they would accordingly resent it, and re∣venge it. But the Rebels that had shaken off the greater Yoak of Obedience, had likewise cast away the lesser Tye of Respect. And Fury prevailing above Fear, made answer, That there was no talking of Peace, except the King would resign his Crown. Whereupon (Treaty of Accord taking no place) it came to a Battel, at Bannocks-bourn by Strivelin. In which Battel, the King transported with wrath and just indignation, inconsiderately fighting and precipitating the charge, before his whole numbers came up to him, was (notwithstanding the contrary express and straight commandment of the Prince his Son) slain in the Pursuit, being fled to a Mill, situate in the field, where the Battel was fought.

As for the Pope's Embassy, which was sent by Adrian de Ca∣stello an Italian Legate, (and perhaps, as those times were, might have prevailed more) it came too late for the Embassy, but not for the Ambassador. For passing through England, and being honourably entertained, and received of King Henry; (who ever applied himself with much respect to the See of Rome) he fell into great grace with the King, and great familiarity and friend∣ship with Morton the Chancellor. In so much as the King taking a liking to him, and finding him to his mind, preferred him to the Bishoprick of Hereford, and afterwards to that of Bath and Wells, and employed him in many of his affairs of State, that had relation to Rome. He was a man of great learning, wisdom, and dexterity in business of State; and having not long after ascended to the degree of Cardinal, payd the King large tribute of his gratitude, in diligent and judicious advertisement of the oc∣currents of Italy. Nevertheless in the end of his time, he was partaker of the conspiracy, which Cardinal Alphonso Petrucci, and some other Cardinals had plotted against the life of Pope Leo. And this offence in it self so heinous, was yet in him aggravated by the motive thereof, which was not malice or discontent, but an aspiring mind to the Papacy. And in this height of impiety there wanted not an intermixture of levity and folly; for that (as was generally believed) he was animated to expect the Papacy, by a fatal mockery, the Prediction of a Soothsayer; which was, That one should succeed Pope Leo, whose name should be Adrian, an aged man of mean birth, and of great learning and wisdom. By which character, and figure, he took himself to be described, though it were fulfilled of Adrian the Fleming, Son of a Dutch Brewer, Cardinal of Tortosa, and Preceptor unto Charles the Fifth, the same that not changing his Christen-name, was afterward called Adrian the Sixth.

But these things happened in the year following, which was the fifth of this King. But in the end of the fourth year the King had called again his Parliament, not as it seemeth for any parti∣cular occasion of State. But the former Parliament being ended somewhat suddenly, in regard of the preparation for Britain, the King thought he had not remunerated his People sufficiently with good Laws, which evermore was his Retribution for Trea∣sure. And finding by the Insurrection in the North, there was discontentment abroad, in respect of the Subsidy, he thought it good to give his Subjects yet further contentment, and comfort in that kind. Certainly his times for good Commonwealths Laws did 〈◊〉〈◊〉. So as he may justly be celebrated for the best Law∣giver to this Nation, after King Edward the First. For his Laws (who so marks them well) are deep, and not vulgar: not made upon the spur of a particular Occasion for the present, but out of Providence of the future, to make the Estate of his People still more and more happy; after the manner of the Legislators in ancient and Heroical times.

First therefore he made a Law, suitable to his own Acts and Times. For as himself had in his Person and Marriage made a final Concord, in the great Suit and Title for the Crown; so by this Law he setled the like Peace and Quiet in the private Pos∣sessions of the Subjects. Ordaining, That Fines thence-forth should be final, to conclude all Strangers Rights; and that upon Fines levied, and solemnly proclaimed, the Subject should have his time of Watch for five years after his Title accrued; which if he fore∣passed, his Right should be bound for ever after; with some ex∣ception nevertheless, of Minors, Married-women, and such incompetent Persons.

This Statute did in effect but restore an ancient Statute of the Realm, which was it self also made but in affirmance of the Common-Law. The alteration had been by a Statute, commonly called the Statute of Non-claim, made in the time of Edward the Third. And surely this Law was a kind of Prognostick of the good Peace, which since his time hath (for the most part) con∣tinued in this Kingdom, until this day. For Statutes of Non∣claim are fit for times of War, when mens heads are troubled, that they cannot intend their Estate; but Statutes, that quiet Possessions, are fittest for times of Peace, to extinguish Suits and Contentions, which is one of the Banes, of Peace.

Another Statute was made of singular Policy, for the Population apparently, and (if it be throughly considered) for the Soldiery, and Militar Forces of the Realm.

Inclosures at that time began to be more frequent, whereby Arable Land (which could not be manured without People and Families) was turned into Pasture, which was easily rid by a few Herds-men; and Tenancies for Years, Lives, and At Will

(whereupon much of the Yeomandry lived) were turned into De∣mesnes. This bred a decay of People, and (by consequence) a decay of Towns, Churches, Tythes, and the like. The King like∣wise knew full well, and in no wise forgot, that there ensued withal upon this a decay and diminution of Subsidy and Taxes; for the more Gentlemen, ever the lower Books of Subsidies. In remedying of this inconvenience, the King's Wisdom was ad∣mirable, and the Parliaments at that time. Inclosures they would not forbid, for that had been to forbid the improvement of the Patrimony of the Kingdom; nor Tillage they would not compel, for that was to strive with Nature and Utility. But they took a course to take away depopulating Inclosures, and depopulating Pasturage, and yet not by that name, or by any Imperious express Prohibition, but by consequence. The Ordinance was, That all Houses of Husbandry, that were used with twenty Acres of Ground, and upwards, should be maintained and kept up for ever; together with a competent proportion of Land to be used and occupied with them; and in no wise to be severed from them, as by another Statute, made afterwards in his Successors time, was more fully declared. This upon Forfeiture to be taken; not by way of Popular Action, but by seisure of the Land it self, by the King and Lords of the Fee, as to half the Profits, till the Houses and Lands were re∣stored. By this means the Houses being kept up, did of neces∣sity enforce a Dweller; and the proportion of Land for Occu∣pation being kept up, did of necessity enforce that Dweller, not to be a Beggar or Cottager, but a man of some substance, that might keep Hinds and Servants, and set the Plough on going∣This did wonderfully concern the Might and Manner-hood of the Kingdom, to have Ferms, as it were of a Standard sufficient to maintain an able Body out of Penury, and did in effect amortize a great part of the Lands of the Kingdom unto the Hold and Occupation of the Teomanry or Middle people, of a condition be∣tween Gentlemen and Cottagers or Pesants. Now, how much this did advance the Militar power of the Kingdom, is apparent by the true Principles of War, and the examples of other Kingdoms. For it hath been held by the general Opinion of men of best Judgement in the Wars (howsoever some few have varied, and that it may receive some distinction of Case) that the principal strength of an Army consisteth in the Infantry or Foot. And to make good Infantry, it requireth men bred, not in a servile or indigent fashion, but in some free and plentiful manner. There∣fore if a State run most to Noble-men and Gentlemen, and that the Husband-men and Plough-men be but as their Work-folks and La∣bourers, or else meer Cottagers, (which are but Housed-Beggars) you may have a good Cavalry, but never good stable Bands of Foot; like to Coppice-Woods, that if you leave in them Staddles too thick, they will run to Bushes and Bryars, and have little clean Under∣wood.

And this is to be seen in France, and Italy, and some other parts abroad, where in effect all is Nobless, or Pesantry, I speak of people out of Towns, and no middle people; and therefore no good Forces of Foot: In so much, as they are enforced to employ Mercenary Bands, of Switzers and the like, for their Battuilions of Foot; Whereby also it comes to pass, that those Nations have much People, and few Soldiers. Whereas the King saw, that contrariwise it would follow, that England, though much less in Territory, yet should have infinitely more Soldiers of their native Forces, than those other Nations have. Thus did the King secretly sow Hidra's teeth, whereupon (according to the Poets fiction) should rise up Armed men for the service of the Kingdom.

The King also (having care to make his Realm potent, as well by Sea as by Land) for the better maintenance of the Navy, Or∣dained, That Wines and Woads from the parts of Gascoign and Lan∣guedock; should not be brought but in English Bottoms; Bowing the ancient Policy of this Estate, from consideration of Plenty, to consideration of Power. For that almost all the ancient Statutes incite by all means Merchant-strangers, to bring in all sorts of Commodities; having for end cheapness, and not looking to the point of State concerning the Naval-power.

The King also made a Statute in that Parliament Monitory and Minatory, towards Justices of Peace, that they should duly execute their Office, inviting complaints against them, first to their Fellow Justices, then to the Justices of Assize, then to the King or Chancellor; and that a Proclamation, which he had published of that Tenor, should be read in open Sessions four times a year, to keep them awake. Meaning also to have his Laws executed, and thereby to reap either Obedience or Forfeitures; (wherein towards his latter times he did decline too much to the left hand) he did ordain remedy against the practice that was grown in use, to stop and damp Informations upon Penal Laws, by procuring Informations by collusion to be put in by the Confederates of the Delinquents, to be faintly prosecuted, and let fall at pleasure, and pleading them in Bar of the Informations, which were prosecuted with effect.

He made also Laws for the correction of the Mint, and coun∣terfeiting of Forein Coyn currant. And that no payment in Gold should be made to any Merchant-stranger, the better to keep Treasure within the Realm, for that Gold was the metal that lay in least room.

He made also Statutes for the maintenance of Drapery, and the keeping of Wools within the Realm; and not only so, but for stinting, and limiting the prices of Cloth, one for the finer, and another for the courser sort. Which I note, both because it was a rare thing to set prices by Statute, especially upon our Home∣Commodities; and because of the wise Model of the Act, not

prescribing Prices, but stinting them not to exceed a rate, that the Clothier might drape accordingly as he might afford.

Divers other good Statutes were made that Parliament, but these were the principal. And here I do desire those, into whose hands this Work shall fall, that they do take in good part my long insist∣ing upon the Laws that were made in this King's Reign; whereof I have these reasons: Both because it was the preheminent virtue and merit of this King, to whose memory I do honour, and because it hath some correspondence to my Person; but chiefly, because (in my judgement) it is some defect even in the best Writers of History 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that they do not often enough summarily deliver and set down the most memorable Laws, that passed in the times whereof they write, being indeed the principal Acts of Peace. For although they may be had in Original Books of Law themselves; yet that informeth not the judgement of Kings and Counsellors, and Persons of Estate, so well as to see them de∣scribed, and entred in the Table and Pourtrait of the Times.

About the same time, the King had a Loan from the City of Four thousand pounds; which was double to that they lent before, and was duely and orderly payd back at the day, as the former likewise had been; the King ever choosing rather to borrow too soon, than to pay too late, and so keeping up his Credit.

Neither had the King yet cast off his cares and hopes touching Britain, but thought to master the occasion by Policy, though his Arms had been unfortunate, and to bereave the French King of the fruit of his Victory. The summ of his design was, to en∣courage Maximilian to go on with his suit, for the Marriage of Ann, the Heir of Britain, and to ayd him to the consummation thereof. But the affairs of Maximilian were at that time in great trouble and combustion, by a Rebellion of his Subjects in Flanders; especially those of Bruges and Gaunt, whereof the Town of Bruges (at such time as Maximilian was there in person) had suddenly armed in tumult, and slain some of his principal Officers, and taken himself prisoner, and held him in durance, till they had enforced him, and some of his Counsellors, to take a solemn Oath to pardon all their offences, and never to question and revenge the same in time to come. Nevertheless Frederick the Emperor would not suffer this reproach and indignity offered to his Son to pass, but made sharp Wars upon Flanders, to reclaim and chastise the Rebels. But the Lord Ravenstein, a principal person about Maximilian, and one that had taken the Oath of Abolition with his Master, pretending the Religion thereof, but indeed upon private ambition, and (as it was thought) instigated and corrupted from France, forsook the Emperor and Maximilian his Lord, and made himself an Head of the popular Party, and seized upon the Towns of Ipre and Sluce, with both the Castles; and forthwith sent to the Lord Cordes, Governour of Picardy under

the French King, to desire ayd, and to move him, that he on the behalf of the French King would be Protector of the united Towns, and by force of Arms reduce the rest. The Lord Cordes was ready to embrace the occasion, which was partly of his own set∣ting, and sent forthwith greater Forces, than it had been possible for him to raise on the sudden, if he had not looked for such a summons before, in ayd of the Lord Ravenstein, and the Flem∣mings, with instructions to invest the Towns between France and Bruges. The French Forces besieged a little Town called Dixmue, where part of the Flemish Forces joyned with them. While they lay at this siege, the King of England, upon pretence of the safety of the English Pale about Calice, but in truth being loth that Maximilian should become contemptible, and thereby be shaken off by the States of Britain about this Marriage, sent over the Lord Morley with a thousand men unto the Lord Daubigny, then Deputy of Calice, with secret instructions to ayd Maximilian, and to raise the siege of Dixmue. The Lord Daubigny (giving it out that all was for the strengthning of the English Marches) drew out of the Garrisons, of Calice, Hammes, and Guines, to the number of a thousand men more. So that with the fresh Suc∣cours that came under the Conduct of the Lord Morley, they made up to the number of two thousand, or better. Which Forces joyning with some Companies of Almains, put themselves into Dixmue, not perceived by the Enemies; and passing through the Town with some re-enforcement, (from the Forces that were in the Town) assailed the Enemies Camp, negligently guarded, as being out of fear; where there was a bloody Fight, in which the English and their Partakers obtained the Victory, and slew to the number of eight thousand men, with the loss on the English part of a hundred or thereabouts; amongst whom was the Lord Morley. They took also their great Ordnance, with much rich spoils, which they carried to Newport, whence the Lord Dau∣bigny returned to Calice, leaving the hurt men, and some other Voluntaries in Newport. But the Lord Cordes being at Ipre with a great power of men, thinking to recover the loss and disgrace of the Fight at Dixmue, came presently on, and sate down before Newport and besieged it; and after some days siege, he resolved to try the fortune of an Assault: Which he did one day, and succeeded therein so far, that he had taken the principal Tower and Fort in that City, and planted upon it the French Banner. Whence nevertheless they were presently beaten forth by the English, by the help of some fresh Succours of Archers arriving by good fortune (at the instant) in the Haven of Newport; Where∣upon the Lord Cordes discouraged, and measuring the new Suc∣cours (which were small) by the Success, (which was great,) levied his Siege. By this means, matters grew more exasperate between the two Kings of England and France, for that in the

War of Flanders, the auxiliary Forces of French and English were much blooded one against another. Which Blood rankled the more, by the vain words of the Lord Cordes, that declared him∣self an open Enemy of the English, beyond that that appertained to the present Service; making it a common by-word of his, That he could be content to lye in Hell seven years, so he might win Calice from the English.

The King having thus upheld the Reputation of Maximilian, advised him now to press on his Marriage with Britain to a con∣clusion. Which Maximilian accordingly did, and so far forth prevailed both with the young Lady, and with the principal persons about her, as the Marriage was consummate by Proxy, with a Ceremony at that time in these parts new. For she was not only publickly contracted, but stated as a Bride, and solemnly Bedded; and after she was laid, there came in Maximilian's Ambassador with Letters of Procuration, and in the presence of sundry Noble Personages, Men and Women, put his Leg (stript naked to the Knee) between the Espousal-Sheets; to the end, that that Ceremony might be thought to amount to a Consum∣mation, and actual Knowledge. This done, Maximilian (whose property was to leave things then, when they were almost come to perfection, and to end them by imagination; like ill Archers, that draw not their Arrows up to the Head: and who might as easily have Bedded the Lady himself, as to have made a Play and Disguise of it) thinking now all assured, neglected for a time his further proceeding, and intended his Wars. Mean-while, the French King (consulting with his Divines, and finding that this pretended Consummation was rather an Invention of Court, than any ways valid by the Laws of the Church) went more really to work, and by secret Instruments and cunning Agents, as well Matrans about the young Lady, as Counsellors, first sought to re∣move the point of Religion and Honour out of the mind of the Lady her self, wherein there was a double labour. For Maxi∣milian was not only contracted unto the Lady, but Maximilian's Daughter was likewise contracted to King Charles. So as the Marriage halted upon both feet, and was not clear on either side: But for the Contract with King Charles, the Exception lay plain and fair, for that Maximilian's Daughter was under years of Consent, and so not bound by Law, but a power of Disagreement left to either part. But for the Contract made by Maximilian with the Lady her self, they were harder driven; having nothing to alledge, but that it was done without the consent of her So∣vereign Lord, King Charles, whose Ward and Client she was, and he to her in place of a Father; and therefore it was void, and of no force, for want of such Consent. Which defect (they said) though it would not evacuate a Marriage, after Cohabi∣tation, and Actual Consummation, yet it was enough to make

void a Contract. For as for a pretended Consummation, they made sport with it, and said; That it was an argument, that Maximilian was a Widdower, and a cold Wooer, that could content himself to be a Bridegroom by Deputy, and would not make a little Journey, to put all out of question. So that the young Lady; wrought upon by these Reasons, finely instilled by such as the French King, (who spared for no Rewards or Promises) had made on his side; and allured likewise by the present Glory and Greatness of King Charles, (being also a young King, and a Batchelor) and loth to make her Countrey the Seat of a long and miserable War; secretly yielded to accept of King Charles: But during this secret Treaty with the Lady, the better to save it from Blasts of Opposition and Interruption, King Charles resorting to his wonted Arts, and thinking to carry the Marriage, as he had carried the Wars, by entertaining the King of England in vain belief, sent a solemn Ambassage by Francis Lord of Luxemberg, Charles Marignian and Robert Gaguein, General of the Order of the Bonnes Hommes of the Trinity, to treat Peace and League with the King; accoupling it with an Article in nature of a Request, that the French King might with the King's good will (according unto his right of Seigniory and Tutelage) dispose of the Marriage of the young Duchess of Britain, as he should think good; offering by a Ju∣dicial proceeding to make void the Marriage of Maximilian by Proxy. Also all this while the better to amuse the World, he did continue in his Court and custody the Daughter of Maxi∣milian, who formerly had been sent unto him, to be bred and educated in France; not dismissing or renvoying her, but con∣trariwise professing and giving out strongly, that he meant to proceed with that Match. And that for the Duchess of Britain, he desired only to preserve his right of Seigniory, and to give her in Marriage to some such Allie, as might depend upon him.

When the three Commissioners came to the Court of England, they delivered their Ambassage unto the King, who remitted them to his Council; where some days after they had Audience, and made their Proposition by the Prior of the Trinity, (who though he were third in place, yet was held the best Speaker of them) to this effect:

MY Lords, the King our Master, the greatest and mightiest King that reigned in France since Charles the Great, (whose Name he beareth) hath nevertheless thought it no dispa∣ragement to his Greatness, at this time to propound a Peace, yea, and to pray a Peace with the King of England. For which purpose he hath sent us his Commissioners instructed and enabled with full and ample power, to treat and conclude; giving us further in charge, to open in some other business the secrets of his own intentions. These be indeed the pretious Love-tokens between great Kings, to communicate one

with another the true state of their Affairs, and to pass by nice Points of Honour, which ought not to give Law unto Affection, This I do assure your Lordships; It is not possible for you to imagine the true and cordial Love, that the King our Master beareth to your Sovereign, ex∣cept you were near him, as we are. He useth his Name with so great respect; he remembreth their first acquaintance at Paris with so great contentment; nay, he never speaks of him, but that presently he falls into discourse of the miseries of great Kings, in that they cannot con∣verse with their Equals, but with Servants. This affection to your King's Person and Virtues, GOD hath put into the Heart of our Ma∣ster, no doubt for the good of Christendom, and for purposes yet un∣known to us all. For other Root it cannot have, since it was the same to the earl of Richmond, that it is now to the King of England. This is therefore the first motive that makes our King to desire Peace, and League with your Sovereign: Good affection, and somewhat that he finds in his own Heart. This affection is also armed with reason of Estate. For our King doth in all candour and frankness of dealing open himself unto you; that having an honourable, yea, and a Holy purpose, to make a Voyage and War in remote parts, he considereth that it will be of no small effect, in point of Reputation to his Enterprize, if it be known abroad, that he ulin in good peace with all his Neighbour Princes, and specially with the King of England, whom for good causes he esteemeth most.

But now (my Lords) give me leave to use a few words to remove all scruples and miss-understandings, between your Sovereign and ours, concerning some late Actions; which if they be not cleared, may perhaps hinder this Peace. To the end, that for matters past, neither King may conceive unkindness of other, nor think the other conceiveth unkindness of him. The late Actions are two; that of Britain, and that of Flanders. In both which, it is true, that the Subjects swords of both Kings, have encountred and stricken, and the ways and inclinations also of the two Kings, in respect of their Confederates and Allies, have severed.

For that of Britain, The King your Sovereign knoweth best what hath passed. It was a War of necessity on our Masters part. And though the Motives of it were sharp and piquant as could be, yet did be make that War rather with an Olive-branch, than a Laurel-branch in his hand, more desiring Peace than Victory. Besides, from time to time he sent (as it were) Blank-papers to your King, to write the conditions of Peace. For though both his Honour and Safety went upon it, yet he thought neither of them too precious, to put into the King of Eng∣land's hands. Neither doth our King on the other side make any un∣friendly interpretation, of your King's sending of Succours to the Duke of Britain; for the King knoweth well, that many things must be done of Kings for satisfaction of their People, and it is not hard to discern what is a King's own. But this matter of Britain is now (by the Act of GOD) ended and passed; and (as the King hopesh) like the way

of a Ship in the Sea, without leaving any impression in either of the Kings minds; as he is sure, for his part, it hath not done in his.

For the Action of Flanders; As the former of Britain was a War of Necessity, so this was a War of Justice; which with a good King is of equal necessity, with danger of Estate, for else he should leave to be a King. The Subjects of Burgundy are Subjects in Chief to the Crown of France, and their Duke the Homager and Vassal of France. They had wont to be good Subjects, howsoever Maximilian hath of late dis∣tempered them. They fled to the King for Justice, and deliverance from Oppression. Justice he could not deny; Purchase he did not seek. This was good for Maximilian, if he could have seen it in people mu∣tined, to arrest Fury, and prevent Despair. My Lords, it may be this I have said is needless, save that the King our Master is tender in any thing, that may but glance upon the Friendship of England. The amity between the two Kings (no doubt) stands entire and inviolate. And that their Subjects swords have clashed, it is nothing unto the pub∣lick Peace of the Crowns; it being a thing very usual in Auxiliary Forces of the best and straitest Confederates, to meet and draw blood in the Field. Nay, many times there be Ayds of the same Nation on both sides, and yet it is not (for all that) A Kingdom divided in it self.

It resteth (my Lords) that I impart unto you a matter, that I know your Lordships all will much rejoyce to hear; as that which importeth the Christian Common-weal more, than any Action that hath hapned of long time. The King our Master hath a purpose and determination, to make War upon the Kingdom of Naples; being now in the possession of a Ba∣stardship of Arragon, but appertaining unto his Majesty, by clear and undoubted right; which if he should not by just Arms seek to recover, he could neither acquit his Honour, nor answer it to his People. But his Noble and Christian thoughts rest not here. For his Resolution and Hope is, to make the Re-conquest of Naples, but as a Bridge, to transport his Forces into Grecia; and not to spare Blood or Treasure (if it were to the impawning of his Crown, and dis-peopling of France) till either he hath overthrown the Empire of the Ottomans, or taken it in his way to Pa∣radise. The King knoweth well, that this is a design, that could not arise in the mind of any King, that did not stedfastly look up unto GOD, whose quarrel this is, and from whom cometh both the will, and the Deed. But yet it is agreeable to the Person that he beareth (though unworthy) of the Thrice-Christian King, and the Eldest Son of the Church. Whereunto he is also invited by the Example (in more ancient time) of King Henry the Fourth of England, (the First Renowned King of the House of Lancaster, Ancestor, though not Progenitor to your King) who had a purpose towards the end of his time (as you know better) to make an Expedition into the Holy Land; and by the Example also (present before his eyes) of that Honourable and Religious War which the King of Spain now maketh, and hath almost brought to perfection, for the Recovery of the Realm of Granada from the Moors. And although this Enterprize may seem vast and unmeasured, for the King

to attempt that by his own Forces, wherein heretofore a Conjunction of most of the Christian Princes hath found work enough; yet his Majesty wisely considereth, that sometimes smaller Forces being united under one Command, are more effectual in Proof (though not so promising in Opinion and Fame) than much greater Forces, variously propounded by Asso∣ciations and Leagues; which commonly in a short time after their begin∣nings, turn to Dissociations and Divisions. But (my Lords) that which is as a Voice from Heaven that called the King to this Enterprize, is a Rent at this time in the House of the Ottomans. I do not say, but there hath been Brother against Brother in that House before, but never any that had refuge to the Arms of the Christians, as now hath Gemes, (Brother unto Bajazeth, that reigneth) the far braver man of the two; the other being between a Monk and a Philosopher, and better read in the Alcoran and Averroes, than able to weild the Scepter of so warlike an Empire. This therefore is the King our Master's memorable and heroical Resolution for an Holy War. And because he carrieth in this the person of a Christian Soldier, as well as of a great Temporal Monarch; he beginneth with Humility, and is content for this cause, to beg Peace at the hands of other Christian Kings. There remaineth only rather a Civil Request, than any essential part of our Negotiation, which the King maketh to the King your Sovereign. The King (as the World knoweth) is Lord in chief of the Duchy of Britain. The Marriage of the Heir belongeth to him as Guardian. This is a private Patrimonial Right, and no business of Estate: yet nevertheless (to run a fair course with your King; whom he desires to make another Himself, and to be one and the same thing with him) his Request is, That with the King's Favour and Consent, he may dispose of her Marriage, as he thinketh good, and make void the intruded and pretended Marriage of Maximilian, according to Justice. This (my Lords) is all that I have to say, desiring your pardon for my weakness in the delivery.

THus did the French Ambassadors with great shew of their King's affection, and many sugred words seek to adulce all matters between the two Kings, having two things for their ends; The one, to keep the King quiet till the Marriage of Bri∣tain was past, and this was but a Summers-fruit, which they thought was almost ripe, and would be soon gathered. The other was more lasting; and that was to put him into such a temper as he might be no disturbance or impediment to the Voyage for Italy. The Lords of the Council were silent; and said only, That they knew the Ambassadors would look for no answer, till they had reported to the King; and so they rose from Council. The King could not well tell what to think of the Marriage of Britain. He saw plainly the ambition of the French King was to impatronize himself of the Duchy; but he wondred he would bring into his House a litigious Marriage, especially considering who was his Successor. But weighing one thing with another, he gave Bri∣tain

for lost; but resolved to make his profit of this business of Britain, as a quarrel for War; and that of Naples, as a Wrench and mean for Peace; being well advertised, how strongly the King was bent upon that Action. Having therefore conferred divers times with his Council, and keeping himself somewhat close, he gave a direction to the Chancellor, for a formal Answer to the Ambassadors, and that he did in the presence of his Council. And after calling the Chancellor to him apart, bade him speak in such language, as was fit for a Treaty that was to end in a Breach; and gave him also a special Caveat, that he should not use any words, to discourage the Voyage of Italy. Soon after the Ambassadors were sent for to the Council, and the Lord Chan∣cellor spake to them in this sort:

MY Lords Ambassadors, I shall make answer by the King's Commandment, unto the eloquent Declaration of you my Lord Prior, in a brief and plain manner. The King forgetteth not his former love and acquaintance with the King your Master. But of this there needeth no repetition. For if it be between them as it was, it is well; if there be any alteration, it is not words that will make it up.

For the Business of Britain, the King findeth it a little strange that the French King maketh mention of it, as matter of well-deserving at his hand. For that Deserving was no more, but to make him his In∣strument, to surprize one of his best Confederates. And for the Mar∣riage, the King would not meddle in it if your Master would marry by the Book, and not by the Sword.

For that of Flanders, if the Subjects of Burgundy had appealed to your King, as their Chief Lord, at first, by way of Supplication, it might have had a shew of Justice. But it was a new form of Process, for Subjects to imprison their Prince first, and to slay his Officers, and then to be Complainants. The King saith, That sure he is, when the French King, and himself sent to the Subjects of Scotland (that had taken Arms against their King) they both spake in another Stile, and did in Princely manner signifie their detestation of Popular Attentates, upon the Person or Authority of Princes. But my Lords Ambassadors, the King leaveth these two actions thus: That on the one side, he hath not received any manner of satisfaction from you concerning them; and on the other, that he doth not apprehend them so deeply, as in respect of them, to refuse to treat of Peace, if other things may go hand in hand. As for the War of Naples, and the Design against the Turk; the King hath commanded me expresly to say, That he doth wish with all his heart, to his good Brother the French King, that his Fortunes may succeed ac∣cording to his hopes, and honourable intentions. And whensoever he shall hear, that he is prepared for Grecia, as your Master is pleased now to say, that he beggeth a Peace of the King, so the King will then beg of him a part in that War.

But now my Lords Ambassadors, I am to propound unto you somewhat on the King's part. The King your Master hath taught our King what to say and demand. You say (my Lord Prior) that your King is resol∣ved to recover his right to Naples, wrongfully detained from him. And that if he should not thus do, he could not acquit his Honour, nor answer it to his People. Think (my Lords) that the King our Master saith the same thing over again to you touching Normandy, Guien, Anjou, yea and the Kingdom of France it self. I cannot express it better than in your own words: If therefore the French King shall consent, that the King our Master's Title to France (at least Tribute for the same) be handled in the Treaty, the King is content to go on with the rest, other∣wise he refuseth to Treat.

THE Ambassadors being somewhat abashed with this de∣mand, answered in some heat; That they doubted not, but the King their Sovereign's Sword would be able to maintain his Scepter: And they assured themselves, he neither could nor would yield to any diminution of the Crown of France, either in Territory or Regality. But howsoever, they were too great matters for them to speak of, having no Commission. It was replied, that the King looked for no other answer from them; but would forthwith send his own Ambassadors to the French King. There was a question also asked at the table, Whether the French King would agree to have the disposing of the Marriage of Britain with an exception and exclusion, that he should not marry her himself? To which the Ambassadors answered; That it was so far out of their King's thoughts, as they had received no Instruction touching the same. Thus were the Ambassadors dismissed, all save the Prior; and were followed im∣mediately by Thomas Earl of Ormond, and Thomas Goldenston Prior of Christ-Church in Canterbury, who were presently sent over into France. In the mean space, Lionel Bishop of Concordia, was sent as Nuntio from Pope Alexander the sixth to both Kings, to move a Peace between them. For Pope Alexander finding himself pent and lockt up, by a League and Association of the principal States of Italy, that he could not make his way for the advancement of his own House, (which he immoderately thirsted after) was de∣sirous to trouble the waters in Italy, that he might fish the better; casting the Net, not out of St. Peter's, but out of Borgia's Bark. And doubting lest the fear from England, might stay the French King's voyage into Italy, dispatched this Bishop to compose all mat∣ters between the two Kings, if he could. Who first repaired to the French King, and finding him well inclined (as he conceived) took on his Journey towards England, and found the English Am∣bassadors at Calice, on their way towards the French King. After some conference with them, he was in honourable manner trans∣ported over into England, where he had audience of the King. But notwithstanding he had a good ominous name to have made a Peace,

nothing followed. For in the mean time, the purpose of the French King to marry the Duchess could be no longer dissembled. Where∣fore the English Ambassadors (finding how things went) took their leave, and returned. And the Prior also was warned from hence, to depart out of England. Who when he turned his back (more like a Pedant, than an Ambassador) dispersed a bitter Libel, in Latin Verse, against the King; unto which the King (though he had nothing of a Pedant) yet was content to cause an answer to be made in like Verse; and that as speaking in his own person, but in a stile of scorn and sport. About this time also was born the King's second Son Henry, who afterward relgned. And soon after followed the solemnization of the Marriage between Charles, and Ann Duchess of Britain, with whom he received the Duchy of Britain as her Dowry; the Daughter of Maximilian being a little before sent home. Which when it came to the ears of Maximilian, (who would never believe it till it was done, being ever the Prin∣cipal in deceiving himself, though in this the French King did very handsomly second it) and tumbling it over and over in his thoughts, that he should at one blow (with such a double scorn) be defeated, both of the Marriage of his Daughter, and his own (upon both which he had fixed high imaginations;) he lost all patience, and casting off the Respects fit to be continued between great Kings, (even when their blood is hottest, and most risen) fell to bitter Invectives against the person and actions of the French King. And (by how much he was the less able to do, talking so much the more) spake all the Injuries he could devise of Charles, saying; That he was the most Perfidious man upon the earth, and that he had made a Marriage compounded between an Advoutry and a Rape: which was done (he said) by the just judgment of God; to the end, that (the Nullity thereof being so apparent to all the World) the Race of so unworthy a person might not reign in France. And forthwith he sent Ambassadors as well to the King of England as to the King of Spain, to incite them to War, and to treat a League offensive against France, promising to concur with great Forces of his own. Hereupon the King of England (going nevertheless his own way) called a Parliament, it being the seventh year of his Reign, and the first day of opening thereof, (sitting under his Cloth of Estate) spake himself unto his Lords and Com∣mons, in this manner:

MY Lords, and you the Commons; When I purposed to make a War in Britain by my Lieutenant, I made declaration thereof to you by my Chancellor. But now that I mean to make a War upon France in Person, I will declare it to you my Self. That War, was to defend another man's right, but this is to recever our own; and that ended by Accident, but we hope this shall end in Victory.

The French King troubles the Christian World. That which he

hath, is not his own, and yet he seeketh more. He hath invested him∣self of Britain, he maintaineth the Rebels in Flanders, and he threat∣neth Italy. For Our Selves, he hath proceeded from Dissimulation to Neglect, and from Neglect to Contumely. He hath assailed our Confe∣derates; he denieth our Tribute; in a word, he seeks War. So did not his Father, but sought Peace at our hands; and so perhaps will be, when good Counsel or Time shall make him see as much as his Father did.

Mean-while; let us make his Ambition, our Advantage; and let us not stand upon a few Crowns of Tribute, or Acknowledgement, but (by the favour of Almighty GOD) try Our Right for the Crown of France it self; remembring that there hath been a French King Prisoner in England, and a King of England Crowned in France. Our Confede∣rates are not diminished. Burgundy is in a mightier Hand than ever, and never more provoked; Britain cannot help us, but it may hurt them. New Acquests are more Burthen, than Strength. The Male-contents of his own Kingdom have not been Base, Popular, nor Titulary Impostors, but of an higher nature. The King of Spain (doubt ye not) will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with us, not knowing where the French King's Ambition will stay. Our Holy Father the Pope, likes no Tramontanes in Italy. But howsoever it be, this matter of Confederates, is rather to be thought on, than reckoned on. (For God forbid; but England should be able to get Reason of France, without a Second.

At the Battels of Cressy, Poictiers, Agent-Court, we were of Our selves. France hath much People, and few Soldiers. They have no stable Bands of Foot: some good Horse they have; but these are Forces, which are least fit for a Defensive War, where the Actions are in the Assailant's choice. It was our Discords only, that lost France; and (by the Power of GOD) it is the good Peace which we now enjoy, that will recover it. GOD hath hitherto blessed my Sword. I have in this time that I have Reigned, weeded out my bad Subjects, and tryed my good. My People and I know one another; which breeds Confidence. And if there should be any bad Blood left in the Kingdom, an Honourable Forein War will vent it, or purifie it. In this great Business, let me have your Advice, and Ayd. If any of you were to make his Son Knight; you might have ayd of your Tenants by Law. This concerns the Knighthood and Spurs of the Kingdom, whereof I am Father; and bound not only to seek to maintain it, but to advance it. But for matter of Treasure, let it not be taken from the Poorest sort; but from those, to whom the Benefit of the War may redound. France is no Wilderness: and I, that profess good husbandry, hope to make the War (after the Beginnings) to pay it self. Go together in GOD's Name, and lose no time; for I have called this Parliament wholly for this Cause.

THus spake the King. But for all this, though he shewed great forwardness for a War, not only to his Parliament and Court, but to his Privy Council likewise, (except the two Bishops, and a few more) yet nevertheless in his secret intentions, he had

no purpose to go through with any War, upon France. But the truth was, that he did but traffick with that War, to make his Return in money. He knew well, that France was now entire, and at unity with it self, and never so mighty many years before. He saw by the tast that he had of his Forces sent into Britain, that the French knew well enough how to make War with the English; by not putting things to the hazard of a Battel, but wearing them by long Sieges of Towns, and strong fortified Encampings. James the Third of Scotland, (his true Friend, and Confederate) gone; and James the Fourth (that had succeeded) wholly at the devotion of France, and ill affected towards him. As for the Conjunctions of Ferdinando of Spain, and Maximilian; he could make no foun∣dation upon them: for the one had Power, and not Will; and the other had Will, and not Power. Besides that, Ferdinando had but newly taken breath, from the War with the Moors; and mer∣chanded at this time with France, for the restoring of the Coun∣ties of Russignon and Perpignian, oppignorated to the French. Nei∣ther was he out of fear of the Discontents, and ill blood within the Realm; which having used always to repress and appease in person, he was loth they should find him at a distance beyond Sea, and engaged in War. Finding therefore the Inconveniences and Difficulties in the prosecution of a War, he cast with himself how to compass two things: The one, how by the declaration, and inchoation of a War, to make his Profit; the other, how to come off from the War, with saving of his Honour. For Profit, it was to be made two ways; upon his Subjects for the War, and upon his Enemies for the Peace; like a good Merchant, that ma∣keth his gain, both upon the Commodities Exported, and Imported back again. For the point of Honour, wherein he might suffer, for giving over the War; he considered well, that as he could not trust upon the ayds of Ferdinando and Maximilian for supports of War: so the impuissance of the one, and the double proceeding of the other, lay fair for him for occasions to accept of Peace. These things he did wisely fore-see, and did as artificially conduct, whereby all things fell into his lap, as he desired.

For as for the Parliament, it presently took fire, being affectio∣nate (of old) to the War of France; and desirous afresh to repair the dishonour, they thought the King sustained by the loss of Bri∣tain. Therefore they advised the King (with great alacrity) to undertake the War of France. And although the Parliament con∣sisted of the first and second Nobility, (together with principal Citizens and Townsmen) yet worthily and justly respecting more the People (whose Deputies they were) than their own private Persons, and finding by the Lord Chancellor's Speech the King's inclination that way; they consented that Commissioners should go forth, for the gathering and levying of a Benevolence, from the more able sort. This Tax (called Benevolence) was devised by

Edward the Fourth, for which he sustained much Envy. It was abolished by Richard the Third, by Act of Parliament, to ingratiate himself with the people; and it was now revived by the King, but with consent of Parliament, for so it was not in the time of King Edward the Fourth. But by this way he raised exceeding great summs. Insomuch as the City of London (in those days) con∣tributed nine thousand pounds and better, and that chiefly levied upon the wealthier sort. There is a Tradition of a Dilemma, that Bishop Morton the Chancellor used, to raise up the Benevolence to higher Rates; and some called it his Fork, and some his Crotch. For he had couched an Article in the Instructions to the Commissio∣ners, who were to levy the Benevolence; That if they met with any that were sparing, they should tell them, That they must needs have, because they laid up; and if they were spenders, they must needs have, because it was seen in their port, and manner of living. So neither kind came amiss.

This Parliament was meerly a Parliament of War; for it was in substance, but a Declaration of War against France and Scotland, with some Statutes conducing thereunto; As the severe punishing of Mortpayes, and keeping back of Soldiers Wages in Captains. The like severity for the departure of Soldiers without licence; Strengthning of the Common Law in favour of Protections, for those that were in the King's service; And the setting the gate open and wide, for men to Sell or Mortgage their Lands without Fines for Alienation, to furnish themselves with Money for the War; And lastly, the avoiding of all Scottish-men out of England. There was also a Statute, for the dispersing of the Standard of the Ex∣chequer, throughout England; thereby to size Weights and Mea∣sures; and two or three more of less importance.

After the Parliament was broken up (which lasted not long) the King went on with his Preparations for the War of France; yet neglected not in the mean time the affairs of Maximilian, for the quieting of Flanders, and restoring him to his Authority amongst his Subjects. For at that time, the Lord of Ravenstein being not only a Subject rebelled, but a Servant revolted, (and so much the more malicious and violent, by the ayd of Bruges and Ghent) had taken the Town, and both the Castles of Sluyce; as we said before.

And having (by the commodity of the Haven) gotten together certain Ships and Barques, fell to a kind of Pyratical trade; rob∣bing and spoyling, and taking Prisoners the Ships and Vessels of all Nations, that passed alongst that Coast, towards the Mart of Antwerp, or into any part of Brabant, Zealand, or Friesland; being ever will victualled from Picardy, besides the commodity of Vi∣ctuals from Sluyce, and the Countrey adjacent, and the avails of his own Prizes. The French assisted him still under-hand; and he likewise (as all men do, that have been of both sides) thought himself not safe, except he depended upon a third Person.

There was a small Town some two miles from Bruges, towards the Sea, called Dam; which was a Fort and Approch to Bruges, and had a relation also to Sluyce. This Town the King of the Romans had attempted often, (not for any worth of the Town in it self, but because it might choak Bruges, and cut it off from the Sea) and ever failed. But therewith the Duke of Saxony came down into Flanders, taking upon him the person of an Umpire, to compose things between Maximilian and his Subjects; but being (indeed) fast and assured to Maximilian. Upon this Pretext of Neutrality and Treaty, he repaired to Bruges; desiring the States of Bruges, to enter peaceably into their Town, with a Retinue of some number of men of Arms, fit for his Estate, being somewhat the more (as he said) the better to guard him in a Countrey, that was up in Arms: and bearing them in hand, that he was to com∣municate with them of divers matters of great importance, for their good. Which having obtained of them, he sent his Car∣riages and Harbingers before him, to provide his Lodging. So that his Men of War entred the City in good Array, but in peaceable manner, and he followed. They that went before, enquired still for Inns and Lodgings, as if they would have rested there all night, and so went on, till they came to the Gate, that leadeth directly towards Dam; and they of Bruges only gazed upon them, and gave them passage. The Captains and inhabitants of Dam also suspected no harm, from any that passed through Bruges; and discovering Forces a-far-off, supposed they had been some Succours, that were come from their Friends, knowing some Dangers towards them. And so perceiving nothing but well, till it was too late, suffered them to enter their Town. By which kind of Sleight, rather than Stratagem, the Town of Dam was taken, and the Town of Bruges shrewdly blockt up, whereby they took great discouragement.

The Duke of Saxony having won the Town of Dam, sent imme∣diately to the King, to let him know that it was Sluyce chiefly, and the Lord Ravenstein, that kept the Rebellion of Flanders in life; And that if it pleased the King to besiege it by Sea, he also would besiege it by Land, and so cut out the Core of those Wars.

The King willing to uphold the Authority of Maximilian, (the better to hold France in awe) and being likewise sued unto by his Merchants, for that the Seas were much infested by the Barques of the Lord Ravenstein; sent straightways Sir Edward Poynings, a valiant man, and of good service, with twelve Ships, well furnished with Soldiers and Artillery, to clear the Seas, and to besiege Sluyce on that part. The Englishmen did not only coop up the Lord Ravenstein, that he stirred not, and likewise hold in strait Siege the Maritim part of the Town; but also assailed one of the Castles, and renewed the assault so for twenty days space (issuing still out of their Ships at the Ebb) as they made great

slaughter of them of the Castle; who continually fought with them to repulse them, though of the English part also were slain a Brother of the Earl of Oxford's, and some fifty more.

But the Siege still continuing more and more strait, and both the Castles (which were the principal strength of the Town) being distressed, the one by the Duke of Saxony, and the other by the English; and a Bridge of boats, which the Lord Ravenstein had made between both Castles, whereby Succours and Relief might pass from the one to the other, being on a night set on fire by the English, he despairing to hold the Town, yielded (at the last) the Castle to the English, and the Town to the Duke of Saxony, by composition. Which done, the Duke of Saxony and Sir Ed∣ward Poynings treated with them of Bruges, to submit themselves to Maximilian their Lord; which after some time they did, paying (in some good part) the Charge of the War, whereby the Almains and foreln Succours were dismissed. The example of Bruges, other of the Revolted Towns followed, so that Maximilian grew to be out of danger, but (as his manner was to handle matters) never out of necessity. And Sir Edward Poynings (after he had continued at Sluyce some good while, till all things were setled) returned unto the King, being then before Bulloign.

Somewhat about this time came Letters from Ferdinando, and Isabella, King and Queen of Spain; signifying the final Conquest of Granada from the Moors; which action in it self so worthy, King Ferdinando, (whose manner was never to lose any virtue for the shewing) had expressed and displayed in his Letters at large, with all the particularities, and Religious Puncto's and Ceremonies, that were observed in the reception of that City and Kingdom: Shewing amongst other things, That the King would not by any means in person enter the City, until he had first aloof seen the Cross set up upon the greater Tower of Granada, whereby it became Christian ground: That likewise before he would enter, he did Homage to God above, pronouncing by an Herald from the height of that Tower, that he did acknowledge to have recovered that Kingdom, by the help of God Almighty and the glorious Virgin, and the virtuous Apostle St. James, and the holy Father Innocent the Eighth, together with the ayds and services of his Prelates, Nobles and Commons: That yet he stirred not from his Camp, till he had seen a little Army of Martyrs, to the number of seven hundred and more Christians (that had lived in bonds and servitude, as Slaves to the Moors) pass before his Eyes, singing a Psalm for their redemption, and that he had given Tribute unto God by alms, and relief, extended to them all, for his admission into the City. These things were in the Letters, with many more Ceremonies of a kind of Holy Ostentation.

The King ever willing to put himself into the consort or Choir of all Religious actions, and naturally affecting much the King of Spain,

(as far as one King can affect another) partly for his virtues, and partly for a counterpoise to France; upon the receipt of these Let∣ters, sent all his Nobles and Prelates, that were about the Court, together with the Mayor and Aldermen of London, in great so∣lemnity to the Church of St. Pauls; there to hear a Declaration from the Lord Chancellor, now Cardinal. When they were assem∣bled, the Cardinal (standing upon the uppermost step, or half-pace before the Chair; and all the Nobles, Prelates, and Governours of the City at the foot of the stairs) made a Speech to them; letting them know, that they were assembled in that Consecrate place, to sing unto God a New-song; For that (said he) these many years the Christians have not gained new ground or Territory upon the Infidels, nor enlarged and set further the Bounds of the Christian∣world: But this is now done, by the prowess and devotion of Ferdinando and Isabella, Kings of Spain; who have (to their im∣mortal Honour) recovered the great and rich Kingdom of Gra∣nade, and the populous and mighty City of the same name, from the Moors, having been in possession thereof by the space of seven hundred years and more. For which, this Assembly and all Christians are to render laud and thanks unto God, and to celebrate this noble Act of the King of Spain; who in this is not only Victo∣rious, but Apostolical, in the gaining of new Provinces to the Christian Faith. And the rather, for that this victory and Conquest is ob∣tained, without much effusion of blood. Whereby it is to be hoped, that there shall be gained, not only new Territory, but infinite Souls, to the Church of Christ; whom the Almighty (as it seems) would have live to be converted. Herewithal he did relate some of the most memorable particulars of the War and Victory. And after his Speech ended, the whole assembly went so∣lemnly in Procession, and Te Deum was sung.

Immediately after the Solemnity, the King kept his May-day at his Palace of Shein, now Richmond. Where to warm the blood of his Nobility, and Gallants, against the War, he kept great Triumphs of Justing and Tourney, during all that Month. In which space it so fell out, that Sir James Parker, and Hugh Vaughan, (one of the King's Gentlemen-Ushers) having had a controversie touching certain Arms, that the King at Arms had given Vaughan, were appointed to run some Courses one against another. And by accident of a faulty Helmet, that Parker had on, he was stricken into the mouth at the first Course, so that his tongue was born unto the hinder part of his head, in such sort that he died presently upon the place. Which because of the Controversie precedent, and the Death that followed, was accounted among the Vulgar, as a Combat or Tryal of Right. The King, towards the end of this Summer, having put his Forces, wherewith he meant to in∣vade France, in readiness, (but so as they were not yet met or mustered together) sent Urswick (now made his Almoner) and Sir

John Risley, to Maximilian; to let him know, that he was in Arms, ready to pass the Seas into France, and did but expect to hear from him, when and where he did appoint to joyn with him, according to his promise made unto him by Countebal, his Ambassador.

The English Ambassadors, having repaired to Maximilian, did find his power and promise at a very great distance; he being ut∣terly unprovided of Men, Money, and Arms, for any such enterprize. For Maximilian, having neither Wing to flie on (for that his Patrimony of Austria was not in his hands, his Father being then living: And on the other side, his Matrimonial Territories of Flanders being partly in Dowre to his Mother-in-law, and partly not serviceable, in respect of the late Rebellions) was thereby de∣stitute of means to enter into War. The Ambassadors saw this well, but wisely thought fit to advertise the King thereof, rather than to return themselves, till the King's further pleasure were known: The rather, for that Maximilian himself spake as great, as ever he did before, and entertained them with dilatory An∣swers; so as the formal part of their Ambassage might well warrant and require their further stay. The King hereupon (who doubted as much before, and saw through his business from the beginning) wrote back to the Ambassadors, commending their discretion in not returning, and willing them to keep the state wherein they found Maximilian, as a Secret, till they heard further from him; And mean while went on with his Voyage Royal for France, sup∣pressing for a time this Advertisement touching Maximilian's poverty and disability.

By this time, was drawn together a great and puissant Army into the City of London; in which were Thomas Marquess Dorset, Tho∣mas Earl of Arundel, Thomas Earl of Derby, George Earl of Shrewsbury, Edmond Earl of Suffolk, Edward Earl of Devonshire, George Earl of Kent, the Earl of Essex, Thomas Earl of Ormond, with a great number of Barons, Knights, and principal Gentlemen; and amongst them, Richard Thomas, much noted for the brave Troops that he brought out of Wales; the Army rising in the whole to the number of five and twenty thousand Foot, and sixteen hundred Horse. Over which, the King (constant in his accustomed trust and employ∣ment) made Jasper Duke of Bedford, and John Earl of Oxford Generals under his own person. The ninth of September, in the eighth year of his Reign, he departed from Greenwich; towards the Sea, all men wondering, that he took that season (being so near Winter) to begin the War; and some thereupon gathering it was a sign that the War would not be long. Nevertheless, the King gave out the contrary, thus: That he intending not to make a Summer-business of it, but a resolute War (without term prefixed) until he recovered France; it skilled not much when he began it: espe∣cially having Calice at his back; where he might winter, if the reason

of the War so required. The sixth of October, he embarqued at Sand∣wich; and the same day took land at Calice: which was the Ren∣dezvonz, where all his Forces were assigned to meet. But in this his Journey towards the Sea-side (wherein, for the cause that we shall now speak of, he hovered so much the longer) he had received Letters from the Lord Cordes: who the hotter he was against the English in time of War, had the more credit in a Ne∣gotiation of Peace; and besides was held a man open, and of good faith. In which Letters there was made an overture of Peace from the French King, with such Conditions, as were somewhat to the King's tast: but this was carried at the first with wonderful se∣crecy. The King was no sooner come to Calice, but the calm winds of Peace began to blow. For first, the English Ambassadors returned out of Flanders from Maximilian; and certified the King, that he was not to hope for any ayd from Maximilian, for that he was altogether improvided. His will was good; but he lacked money. And this was made known; and spread through the Army. And although the English were therewithal nothing dismayed; and that it be the manner of Soldiers, upon bad news to speak the more bravely: yet nevertheless it was a kind of preparative to a Peace. Instantly in the neck of this (as the King had laid it) came news that Ferdinando and Isabella, Kings of Spain, had con∣cluded a peace with King Charles; and that Charles had restored unto them the Counties of Russignon and Perpignian, which for∣merly were Mortgaged by John King of Arragon (Ferdinando's Fa∣ther) unto France, for three hundred thousand Crowns; which debt was also, upon this Peace, by Charles clearly released. This came also handsomly to put on the Peace: both because so potent a Confederate was faln off, and because it was a fair example of a Peace bought; so as the King should not be the sole Merchant in this Peace. Upon these Airs of Peace, the King was content, that the Bishop of Exceter, and the Lord Daubigny (Governour of Calice) should give a meeting unto the Lord Cordes, for the Treaty of a Peace. But himself nevertheless, and his Army, the fifteenth of October, removed from Calice, and in four days march sate him down before Bulloign.

During this Siege of Bulloign (which continued near a Month) there passed no memorable Action, nor Accident of War: only Sir John Savage, a valiant Captain, was slain, riding about the Walls of the Town, to take a View. The Town was both well fortified, and well manned; yet it was distressed, and ready for an Assault: which if it had been given (as was thought) would have cost much blood; but yet the Town would have been carried in the end. Mean while, a Peace was concluded by the Com∣missioners, to continue for both the Kings Lives. Where there was no Article of importance; being in effect, rather a Bargain, than a Treaty. For, all things remained as they were: save that

there should be paid to the King seven hundred forty five thousand Ducats in present, for his Charges in that Journey; and five and twenty thousand Crowns yearly, for his Charges sustained in the Ayds of the Britons. For which Annual, though he had Maximi∣lian bound before for those Charges; yet he counted the alteration of the Hand, as much as the principal Debt. And besides, it was left somewhat indefinitely; when it should determine or expire; which made the English esteem it as a Tribute, carried under fair Terms. And the truth is, it was paid both to the King, and to his Son King Henry the Eighth, longer than it could continue upon any computation of Charges. There were also assigned by the French King, unto all the King's principal Counsellors, great Pen∣sions, besides rich Gifts for the present. Which whether the King did permit, to save his own Purse from Rewards, or to commu∣nicate the Envy of a Business, that was displeasing to his People, was diversly interpreted; for certainly, the King had no great fancy to own this Peace. And therefore, a little before it was concluded, he had under-hand procured some of his best Captains, and Men of War, to advise him to a Peace under their hands, in an earnest manner, in the nature of a Supplication. But, the truth is, this Peace was welcom to both Kings. To Charles, for that it assured unto him the possession of Britain, and freed the enterprise of Naples. To Henry, for that it filled his Coffers; and that he foresaw at that time a storm of inward troubles coming upon him; which presently after brake forth. But it gave no less discontent to the Nobility, and principal persons of the Army; who had many of them sold or engaged their Estates, upon the hopes of the War. They stuck not to say, That the King cared not to plume his Nobility and People, to feather himself. And some made themselves merry with that the King had said in Parliament: That after the War was once begun, he doubted not but to make it pay it self; saying he had kept promise.

Having risen from Bulloign, he went to Calice, where he stayed some time. From whence also he wrote Letters, (which was a Courtesie that he sometimes used) to the Mayor of London, and Aldermen his Brethren; half bragging, what great summs he had obtained for the Peace; knowing well, that full Coffers of the King, is ever good news to London. And better news it would have been, if their Benevolence had been but a Loan. And upon the seventeenth of December following, he returned to Westmin∣ster, where he kept his Christmas.

Soon after the King's return, he sent the Order of the Garter, to Alphonso Duke of Calabria, eldest Son to Ferdinando King of Naples; an honour sought by that Prince, to hold him up in the eyes of the Italians: who, expecting the Arms of Charles, made great account of the Amity of England, for a Bridle to France. It was received by Alphonso, with all Ceremony and Pomp that could

be devised; as things use to be carried that are intended for Opi∣nion. It was sent by Urswick: upon whom the King bestowed this Ambassage, to help him, after many dry Employments.

AT this time the King began again to be haunted with Spirits, by the Magick and curious Arts of the Lady Margaret: who raised up the Ghost of Richard Duke of York, second Son to King Edward the Fourth, to walk and vex the King. This was a finer Counterfeit Stone, than Lambert Simnel, better done, and worn upon greater hands; being graced after, with the wearing of a King of France, and a King of Scotland, not of a Duchess of Burgundy only. And for Simnel, there was not much in him, more than that he was a handsom Boy, and did not shame his Robes. But this Youth (of whom we are now to speak) was such a Mercurial, as the like hath seldom been known, and could make his own Part, if at any time he chanced to be out. Wherefore, this being one of the strangest Examples of a Personation, that ever was in Elder or Latter times; it deserveth to be discovered, and related at the full: Although the King's manner of shewing things, by Pieces and by Dark Lights, hath so musfled it, that it hath left it almost as a Mystery to this day.

The Lady Margaret (whom the King's Friends called Juno, because she was to him as Junb was to Aeneas, stirring both Heaven and Hell, to do him mischief) for a foundation of her particular Practices against him, did continually, by all means possible, nourish, maintain, and divulge the flying Opinion, That Richard Duke of York (second Son to Edward the Fourth) was not mur∣thered in the Tower, (as was given out) but saved alive; For that those, who were employed in that barbarous Fact, having destroyed the elder Brother, were stricken with remorse and com∣passion towards the younger, and set him privily at liberty, to seek his Fortune. This Lure she cast abroad, thinking that this Fame and Belief (together with the fresh Example of Lambert Simnel) would draw at one time, or other, some Birds to strike upon it. She used likewise a further diligence, not committing all to Chance. For, she had some secret Espials (like to the Turks Commissioners for Children of Tribute) to look abroad for handsom and graceful Youths to make Plantagenets, and Dukes of York. At the last she did light on one, in whom all things met, as one would wish to serve her turn, for a Counterfeit of Richard Duke of York.

This was Perkin Warbeck, whose Adventures we shall now de∣scribe. For, first, the years agreed well. Secondly, he was a Youth of fine favour and shape. But more than that, he had such a crafty and bewitching fashion, both to move Pity, and to induce Belief, as was like a kind of Fascination, and Inchantment to those that saw him, or heard him. Thirdly, he had been from his Child∣hood such a Wanderer, or (as the King called him) such a Land-loper,

as it was extreme hard to hunt out his Nest and Parents. Neither again could any man, by company or conversing with him, be able to say or detect well what he was; he did so flit from place to place. Lastly, there was a Circumstance (which is mentioned by one that wrote in the same time) that is very likely to have made somewhat to the matter; which is, That King Edward the Fourth was his God-father. Which, as it is somewhat su∣spicious, for a wanton Prince to become Gossip in so mean a House; and might make a man think, that he might indeed have in him some base Blood of the House of York: so at the least (though that were not) it might give the occasion to the Boy, in being called King Edward's God-son, or perhaps in sport, King Edward's Son, to entertain such Thoughts into his Head. For, Tutor he had none, (for ought that appears) as Lambert Simnel had, until he came unto the Lady Margaret, who instructed him.

Thus therefore it came to pass: There was a Towns-man of Tourney, that had born Office in that Town, whose name was John Osbeck, a Convert-Jew, married to Catherine de Faro; whose business drew him, to live for a time with his Wife at London, in King Edward the Fourth's days. During which time he had a Son by her: and being known in Court, the King either out of a religious Nobleness, because he was a Convert, or upon some private acquaintance, did him the Honor, as to be God-father to his Child, and named him Peter. But, afterwards, proving a dainty and effeminate Youth, he was commonly called by the di∣minutive of his name; Peterkin, or Perkin. For, as for the name of Warbeck, it was given him when they did but guess at it, before examinations had been taken. But yet he had been so much talked on by that name, as it stuck by him after his true name of Osbeck was known. While he was a young Child his Parents returned with him to Tourney. Then was he placed in a house of a kinsman of his, called John Stenbeck, at Antwerp: and so roved up and down between Antwerp and Tourney, and other Towns of Flanders, for a good time; living much in English Company, and having the English Tongue perfect. In which time, being grown a comely Youth, he was brought by some of the Espials of the Lady Margaret unto her Presence. Who viewing him well, and seeing that he had a Face and Personage that would bear a Noble for∣tune, and finding him otherwise of a fine Spirit, and winning Behaviour; thought she had now found a curious Piece of Marble, to carve out an Image of a Duke of York. She kept him by her a great while, but with extreme secrecy. The while, she in∣structed him, by many Cabinet-Conferences. First, in Princely behaviour and gesture; teaching him how he should keep State, and yet with a modest sense of his misfortunes. Then she in∣formed him of all the circumstances and particulars, that con∣cerned the Person of Richard Duke of York, which he was to act:

Describing unto him the Personages, Lineaments, and Features of the King and Queen, his pretended Parents; and of his Brother and Sisters, and divers others, that were nearest him in his Childhood; together with all passages, some secret, some common, that were fit for a Child's memory, until the death of King Edward. Then she added the particulars of the time, from the King's death, until he and his Brother were committed to the Tower, as well during the time he was abroad, as while he was in Sanctuary. As for the times while he was in the Tower, and the manner of his Brother's death; and his own escape; she knew they were things that a very few could controle. And therefore she taught him, only to tell a smooth and likely Tale of those matters; warning him not to vary from it. It was agreed likewise between them, what account he should give of his Peregrination abroad; inter∣mixing many things which were true, and such as they knew others could testifie, for the credit of the rest: but, still making them to hang together, with the Part he was to play. She taught him likewise how to avoid sundry captious and tempting questions which were like to be asked of him. But, in this she found him of himself so nimble and shifting, as she trusted much to his own wit and readiness; and therefore laboured the less in it. Lastly, she raised his thoughts with some present rewards, and further promises; setting before him chiefly the glory, and fortune of a Crown, if things went well; and a sure refuge to her Court, if the worst should fall. After such time as she thought he was perfect in his Lesson, she began to cast with her self from what coast this Blazing star should first appear, and at what time it must be upon the Horizon of Ireland; for there had the like Meteor strong influence before: the time of the Apparition to be, when the King should be engaged into a War with France. But well she knew, that whatsoever should come from her, would be held suspected. And therefore; if he should go out of Flanders imme∣diately into Ireland, she might be thought to have some hand in it. And besides, the time was not yet ripe; for that the two Kings were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon terms of Peace. Therefore she wheel'd about; and to put all suspition a far off, and loth to keep him any longer by her, (for that she knew Secrets are not long-lived) she sent him unknown into Portugal, with the Lady 〈◊〉〈◊〉, an English Lady, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for Portugal at that time; with some Privado of her own, to have an eye upon him: and there he was to remain and to expect her further directions. In the mean time, she omit∣ted not to prepare things for his better welcome, and accepting, not only in the Kingdom of Ireland, but in the Court of France. He continued in Portugal about a year; and, by that time, the King of England called his Parliament (as hath been said) and de∣clared open War against France. Now did the Sign 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was come, under 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Perkin should appear.

And therefore he was straight sent unto by the Duchess, to go for Ireland, according to the first designment. In Ireland he did arrive at the Town of Cork. When he was thither come, his own Tale was, (when he made his Confession afterwards) That the Irish-men, finding him in some good clothes, came flocking about him, and bare him down, that he was the Duke of Clarence, that had been there before; and after, that he was Richard the Third's base Son; and lastly, that he was Richard Duke of York, second Son to Edward the Fourth: But that he (for his part) renounced all these things, and offered to swear upon the Holy Evangelists, that he was no such man; till, at last, they forced it upon him, and bad him fear nothing, and so forth. But the truth is, that immediately upon his coming into Ireland, he took upon him the said Person of the Duke of York., and drew unto him Com∣plices, and Partakers, by all the means he could devise: Insomuch, as he wrote his Letters unto the Earl of Densmond and Kildare, to come in to his Ayd, and be of his Party: the Originals of which Letters are yet extant.

Somewhat before this time, the Duchess had also gained unto her a near Servant of King Henry's own, one Stephen Frion, his Secretary for the French Tongue; an active man, but turbulent, and discontented. This Frion had fled over to Charles the French King, and put himself into his service, at such time as he began to be in open enmity with the King. Now King Charles, when he understood of the Person and Attempts of Perkin (ready of him∣self to embrace all advantages against the King of England; insti∣gated by Frion, and formerly prepared by the Lady Margaret,) forthwith dispatched one Lucas, and this Frion, in the nature of of Ambassadors to Perkin, to advertise him of the King's good inclination to him, and that he was resolved to ayd him, to reco∣ver his right against King Henry, an Usurper of England, and an Enemy of France; and wished him, to come over unto him at Paris. Perkin thought himself in heaven now, that he was in∣vited by so great a King, in so honourable a manner; And im∣parting unto his Friends in Ireland for their encouragement; how Fortune called him, and what great hopes he had, sailed presently into France. When he was come to the Court of France, the King received him with great honour; saluted, and stiled him by the name of the Duke of York; lodged him, and accommodated him in great State: And the better to give him the representation and the countenance of a Prince, assigned him a Guard for his Person, whereof the Lord Congreshall was Captain. The Courtiers likewise (though it be ill mocking with the French) applied them∣selves to their King's bent, seeing there was reason of State for it. At the same time there repaired unto Perkin divers English-men of Quality; Sir George Nevile, Sir John Taylor, and about one hundred more: and amongst the rest, this Stephen Frion, of whom we spake;

who followed his fortune both then and for a long time after, and was indeed his principal Counsellor and Instrument in all his Proceed∣ings. But all this, on the French King's part, was but a Trick, the better to bow King Henry to Peace. And therefore upon the first Grain of Incense, that was sacrificed upon the Altar of Peace, at Bulloign, Perkin was smoaked away. Yet would not the French King deliver him up to King Henry (as he was laboured to do) for his Honors sake, but warned him away, and dismissed him. And Perkin on his part, was as ready to be gone, doubting he might be caught up under-hand. He therefore took his way into Flanders, unto the Duchess of Burgundy; pretending, that having been variously tossed by Fortune, he directed his course thither, as to a safe Harbour: No ways taking knowledge, that he had ever been there before, but as if that had been his first address. The Duchess; on the other part, made it as new and strange to see him: pretending (at the first) that she was taught and made wise by the example of Lambert Simnel, how she did admit of any Counterfeit stuff; though even in that (she said) she was not fully satisfied. She pretended at the first (and that was ever in the pre∣sence of others) to pose him and sift him, thereby to try whether he were indeed the very Duke of York, or no. But, seeming to receive full satisfaction by his answers, she then feined her self to be transported with a kind of astonishment, mixt of Joy and Won∣der, at his miraculous deliverance; receiving him, as he were risen from death to life; and inferring, that God, who had in such wonderful manner preserved him from Death, did likewise reserve him for some great and prosperous Fortune. As for his dismission out of France, they interpreted it not, as if he were detected or neglected for a Counterfeit Deceiver; but contrariwise, that it did shew manifestly unto the World, that he was some Great matter; for that it was his abandoning, that (in effect) made the Peare: being no more but the sacrificing of a poor distressed Prince unto the utility and Ambition of two Mighty Monarchs. Neither was Perkin for his part wanting to himself, either in gracious and Princely behaviour, or in ready and apposite answers, or in con∣tenting and caressing those that did apply themselves unto him or in pretty scorn and disdain to those that seemed to doubt of him; but in all things did notably acquit himself: Insomuch as it was generally believed (as well amongst great Persons, as amongst the Vulgar) that he was indeed Duke Richard. Nay, himself, with long and continual counterfeiting, and with oft telling a Lye, was turned by habit almost into the thing he seemed to be, and from a Lyar, to a Believer. The Duchess therefore (as in a case out of doubt) did him all Princely honour, calling him always by the name of her Nephew, and giving him the Delicare Title of the White-Rose of England; and appointed him a Guard of thirty persons, Halberdiers, clad in a party-coloured Livery

of Murrey and Blew, to attend his Person. Her Court likewise, and generally the Dutch and Strangers in their usage towards him, expressed no less respect.

The News hereof came blazing and thundering over into Eng∣land; that the Duke of York was sure alive. As for the name of Perkin Warbeck, it was not at that time come to light, but all the news ran upon the Duke of York; that he had been entertained in Ireland, bought and sold in France, and was now plainly avowed, and in great honour in Flanders. These Fames took hold of divers; in some upon discontent, in some upon ambition, in some upon levity and desire of change, and in some few upon conscience and belief, but in most upon simplicity; and in divers out of depen∣dance upon some of the better sort, who did in secret favour and nourish these bruits. And it was not long, ere these rumors of Novelty, had begotten others of Scandal and Murmur against the King, and his government; taxing him for a great Taxer of his People, and discountenancer of his Nobility. The loss of Britain, and the Peace with France were not forgotten. But chiefly they fell upon the wrong that he did his Queen, in that he did not reign in her Right. Wherefore they said, that God had now brought to light a Masculine-Branch of the House of York, that would not be at his Courtesie, howsoever he did depress his poor Lady. And yet (as it fareth in things which are currant with the Multitude, and which they affect) these Fames grew so general, as the Au∣thors were lost in the generality of Speakers. They being like running Weeds, that have no certain root; or like Footings up and down, impossible to be traced. But after a while, these ill Ha∣mors drew to an head, and setled secretly in some eminent Persons; which were Sir William Stanley Lord Chamberlain of the King's Houshold, the Lord Fitz-water, Sir Simon Mountfort, Sir Thomas Thwaites. These entred into a secret Conspiracy to favour Duke Richard's Title. Nevertheless none engaged their fortunes in this business openly, but two; Sir Robert Clifford, and Master William Bar∣ley, who sailed over into Flanders, sent indeed from the Party of the Conspirators here, to understand the truth of those things that passed there, and not without some help of monies from hence; Provisionally to be delivered, if they found and were satisfied, that there was truth in these pretences. The person of Sir Robert Clif∣ford (being a Gentleman of Fame and Family) was extremely wel∣come to the Lady Margaret. Who after she had confeernce with him, brought him to the sight of Perkin, with whom he had often speech and discourse. So that in the end won either by the Duchess, to affect, or by Perkin to believe, he wrote back into England, that he knew the Person of Richard Duke of York, as well as he knew his own; and that this Young-man was undoubtedly he. By this means all things grew prepared to Revolt and Section here, and the Conspi∣racy came to have a Correspondence between Planders and England.

The King on his part was not asleep; but to Arm or levy Forces yet, he thought would but shew fear, and do this Idol too much worship. Nevertheless the Ports he did shut up, or at least kept a Watch on them, that none should pass to or fro that was suspected. But for the rest, he chose to work by Counter-mine. His purposes were two; the one, to lay open the Abuse: the other, to break the knot of the Conspirators. To detect the Abuse, there were but two ways; the first, to make it manifest to the world, that the Duke of York was indeed murthered: the other, to prove, that were he dead or alive, yet Perkin was a Counterfeit. For the first, thus it stood. There were but four persons that could speak upon knowledge, to the murther of the Duke of York; Sir James Tirrel, (the employed-man from King Richard) John Dighton, and Miles Forrest, his Servants, (the two Butchers or Tormentors) and the Priest of the Tower, that buried them. Of which four, Miles Forrest, and the Priest were dead, and there remained alive only Sir James Tirrel, and John Dighton. These two the King caused to be committed to the Tower, and examined touching the manner of the Death of the two Innocent Princes. They agreed both in a Tale, (as the King gave out) to this effect: That King Richard having directed his Warrant for the putting of them to death, to Brackenbury the Lieutenant of the Tower, was by him refused. Whereupon the King directed his Warrant to Sir James Tirrel, to receive the Keys of the Tower from the Lieutenant (for the space of a night) for the King's special ser∣vice. That Sir James Tirrel accordingly repaired to the Tower by night, attended by his two Servants afore-named, whom he had chosen for that purpose. That himself stood at the stair-foot, and sent these two Villains to execute the murther. That they smothered them in their bed; and that done, called up their Ma∣ster to see their naked dead bodies, which they had laid forth. That they were buried under the Stairs, and some stones cast upon them. That when the report was made to King Richard, that his will was done, he gave Sir James Tirrel great thanks, but took ex∣ception to the place of their burial, being too base for them that were King's children. Where upon another night by the King's Warrant renewed, their bodies were removed by the Priest of the Tower, and buried by him in some place, which (by means of the Priest's death soon after) could not be known. Thus much was then delivered abroad, to be the effect of those Examinations. But the King nevertheless made no use of them in any of his Declara∣tions; whereby (as it seems) those Examinations left the business somewhat perplexed. And as for Sir James Tirrel, he was soon after beheaded in the Tower-yard, for other matters of Treason. But John-Dighton (who it seemeth spake best for the King) was forthwith set at liberty, and was the principal means of divul∣ging this Tradition. Therefore this kind of proof being left so naked, the King used the more diligence in the latter, for the

tracing of Perkin. To this purpose, he sent abroad into several parts, and especially into Flanders, divers secret and nimble Scouts and Spies; some feigning themselves to flie over unto Perkin, and to adhere unto him; and some under other pretences, to learn, search, and discover all the circumstances and particulars of Perkin's Pa∣rents, Birth, Person, Travels up and down; and in brief, to have a Journal (as it were) of his life and doings. He furnished these his employed-men liberally with Money, to draw on and reward intelligences: giving them also in charge, to advertise conti∣nually what they found, and nevertheless still to go on. And ever as one Advertisement and Discovery called up another, he employed other new Men, where the Business did require it. Others he employed in a more special nature and trust, to be his Pioners in the main Counter-mine. These were directed to in∣sinuate themselves into the familiarity and confidence of the prin∣cipal persons of the Party in Flanders, and so to learn what Asso∣ciates they had, and Correspondents, either here in England, or abroad; and how far every one engaged, and what new ones they meant afterwards to try, or board. And as this for the Persons; so for the Actions themselves, to discover to the Bottom (as they could) the utmost of Perkin's and the Conspirators their Intentions, Hopes, and Practices. These latter Best-be-trust-Spies had some of them further instructions, to practise and draw off the best Friends and Servants of Perkin, by making remonstrance to them, how weakly his Enterprize and Hopes were built, and with how prudent and potent a King they had to deal; and to reconcile them to the King, with promise of Pardon, and good Conditions of Reward, And (above the rest) to assail, sap, and work into the constancy of Sir Robert Clifford; and to win him, (if they could) being the man that knew most of their secrets, and who being won away, would most appall and discourage the rest, and in a manner break the Knot.

There is a strange Tradition; That the King being lost in a Wood of Suspitions, and not knowing whom to trust, had both intelligence with the Confessors and Chaplains of divers great men, and for the better Credit of his Espials abroad with the contrary side, did use to have them cursed at St. Pauls (by Name) amongst the Bead-Roll of the King's Enemies, according to the Custom of those Times. These Espials plyed their Charge so roundly; as the King had an Anatomy of Perkin alive; and was likewise well in∣formed of the particular correspondent Conspirators in England, and and many other Mysteries were revealed; and Sir Robert Clifford in especial won to be assured to the King, and industrious and officious for his service. The King therefore (receiving a rich Return of his diligence, and great satisfaction touching a number of Particulars) first divulged and spred abroad the Imposture and jugling of Perkin's Person and Travels, with the Circumstances

thereof, throughout the Realm. Not by Proclamation (because things were yet in Examination, and so might receive the more or the less) but by Court-fames, which commonly print better than printed Proclamations. Then thought he it also time to send an Ambassage unto Archduke Philip, into Flanders, for the aban∣doning and dismissing of Perkin. Herein he employed Sir Edward Poynings, and Sir William Warham, Doctor of the Canon Law. The Archduke was then young, and governed by his Council: before whom the Embassadors had audience, and Doctor Warham spake in this manner:

MY Lords, the King our Master is very sorry, that England and your Countrey here of Flanders having been counted as Man and Wife for so long time, now this Countrey of all others should be the Stage, where a base Counterfeit should play the part of a King of England; not only to his Graces disquiet and dishonour, but to the scorn and reproach of all Sovereign Princes. To counterfeit the dead Image of a King in his Coyn, is an high Offence by all Laws: But to counterfeit the living Image of a King in his Person, exceedeth all Falsifications, except it should be that of a Mahomet, or an Antichrist, that counterfeit Divine Honour. The King hath too great an Opinion of this sage Council, to think that any of you is caught with this Fable, (though way may be given by you to the passion of some): the thing in it self is so improbable. To set Testimonies aside of the Death of Duke Richard, which the King hath upon Record, plain and infallible 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be∣cause they may be thought to be in the King's own Power) let the thing testifie for it self. Sense and Reason no Power can command. Is it possible (trow you) that King Richard should damn his Soul, and foul his Name with so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Murther, and yet not mend his Case? Or do you think, that Men of Blood (that were his Instruments) did turn to Pity in the middest of their Execution? Whereas in cruel and savage Beasts, and Men also, the first Draught of Blood doth yet make them more fierce, and enraged. Do you not know, that the Bloody Executioners of Tyrants do go to such Errants, with an Halter about their neck: So that if they perform not, they are sure to die for it? And do you think, that these men would hazard their own lives, for sparing anothers? Admit they should have saved him: What should they have done with him? Turn him into London-Streets, that the Watch-men or any Passenger that should light upon him, might carry him before a Justice, and so all come to light? Or should they have kept him by them secretly? That surely would have required a great deal of Care, Charge, and con∣tinual Fears. But (my Lords) I labour too much in a clear Business. The King is so wise, and hath so good Friends abroad, as now he knoweth Duke Perkin from his Cradle. And because he is a great Prince, if you have any good Poet here, he can help him with Notes to write his Life; and to parallel him with Lambert Simnel, now the King's Fal∣coner. And therefore (to speak plainly to your Lordships) it is the

strangest thing in the World, that the Lady Margaret (excuse us, if we name her, whose Malice to the King is both causlless and endless) should now when she is old, at the time when other Women give over Child-bearing, bring forth two such Monsters; being not the Births of nine or ten Months, but of many Years. And whereas other natural Mothers bring forth Children weak, and not able to help themselves; she bringeth forth tall Striplings, able soon after their coming into the World, to bid Battel to mighty Kings. My Lords, we stay unwillingly upon this Part. We would to God, that Lady would once tast the Joys, which God Almighty doth serve up unto her, in beholding her Niece to Reign in such Honour, and with so much Royal Issue, which she might be pleased to accompt as her own. The Kings Request unto the Arch∣duke, and your Lordships, might be; That, according to the example of King Charles, who hath already discarded him, you would banish this unworthy Fellow out of your Dominions. But because the King may justly expect more from an ancient Confederate, than from a new recon∣ciled Enemy; he maketh his Request unto you, to deliver him up into his hands. Pirates and Impostures of this sort, being fit to be accounted the Common Enemies of Mankind, and no ways to be protected by the Law of Nations.

After some time of deliberation, the Ambassadors received this short Answer:

THat the Archduke, for the love of King Henry, would in no sort ayd or assist the pretended Duke, but in all things conserve the Amity he had with the King. But for the Duchess Dowa∣ger, she was absolute in the Lands of her Dowry, and that he could not let her to dispose of her own.

THE King, upon the return of the Ambassadors, was no∣thing satisfied with this Answer. For well he knew, that a Patrimonial Dowry carried no part of Sovereignty, or Command of Forces. Besides, the Ambassadors told him plainly, that they saw the Duchess had a great Party in the Archduke's Council; and that howsoever it was carried in a course of connivence, yet the Archduke under-hand gave ayd and furtherance to Perkin. Where∣fore (partly out of Courage, and partly out of Policy) the King forthwith banished all Flemings (as well their Persons, as their Wares) out of his Kingdom; commanding his Subjects likewise (and by name his Merchants-Adventurers) which had a Resiance in Antwerp, to return; translating the Mart (which commonly fol∣lowed the English Cloth) unto Calice, and embarred also all further Trade for the future. This the King did, being sensible in point of honour, not to suffer a Pretender to the Crown of England, to affront him so near at hand, and he to keep terms of Friendship with the Countrey where did set up. But he had also a further

reach: for that he knew well, that the Subjects of Flanders drew so great commodity from the Trade of England, as by this Embargo they would soon wax weary of Perkin, and that the Tumults of Flanders had been so late and fresh, as it was no time for the Prince to displease the People. Nevertheless for forms sake, by way of requital, the Archduke did likewise banish the English out of Flanders; which in effect was done to his hand.

The King being well advertised, that Perkin did more trust upon Friends and Partakers within the Realm, than upon forein Arms, thought it behoved him to apply the Remedy, where the Disease lay; and to proceed with severity against some of the principal Conspirators here within the Realm; Thereby to purge the ill humours in England, and to cool the hopes in Flanders. Wherefore he caused to be apprehended (almost at an instant) John Ratcliff Lord Fitz-water, Sir Simon Mountford, Sir Thomas Thwaites, William Daubigney, Robert Ratcliff, Thomas Chressenor, and Thomas Astwood. All these were arraigned, convicted and con∣demned for High-Treason, in adhering, and promising ayd to Perkin. Of these, the Lord Fitz-water was conveyed to Calice, and there kept in hold, and in hope of life, until soon after (either im∣patient, or betrayed) he dealt with his Keeper to have escaped, and thereupon was beheaded. But Sir Simon Mountford, Robert Ratcliff, and William Daubigney were beheaded immediately after their Condemnation. The rest were pardoned, together with many others, Clerks and Laicks; amongst which were two Dominican Friers, and William Worseley, Dean of St. Pauls: which latter sort passed Examination, but came not to publick Tryal.

The Lord Chamberlain at that time was not touched; whether it were, that the King would not stir too many humours at once, but (after the manner of good Physicians) purge the Head last; or that Clifford (from whom most of these Discoveries came) re∣served that Piece for his own coming over: signifying only to the King in the mean time, that he doubted there were some greater ones in the business, whereof he would give the King further account, when he came to his presence.

Upon All-hallows-day-even, being now the tenth year of the King's Reign, the King's second Son Henry was created Duke of York; and as well the Duke, as divers others, Noblemen, Knights∣Batchelors, and Gentlemen of quality were made Knights of the Bath, according to the Ceremony. Upon the morrow after Twelfth∣day, the King removed from Westminster (where he had kept his Christmas) to the Tower of London. This he did as soon as he had advertisement, that Sir Robert Clifford (in whose Bosom or Budget most of Perkin's secrets were laid up) was come into England. And the place of the Tower was chosen to that end, that if Clifford should accuse any of the Great-ones, they might without suspition, or noise, or sending abroad of Warrants, be presently attached;

the Court and Prison being within the cincture of one Wall. After a day or two, the King drew unto him a selected Council, and admitted Clifford to his presence; who first fell down at his feet, and in all humble manner craved the King's Pardon, which the King then granted, though he were indeed secretly assured of his life before. Then commanded to tell his knowledge, he did amongst many others (of himself, not interrogated) appeach Sir William Stanley, the Lord Chamberlain of the King's Houshold.

The King seemed to be much amazed at the naming of this Lord, as if he had heard the news of some strange and fearful Prodigy. To hear a man that had done him service of so high a nature, as to save his Life, and set the Crown upon his head; a man, that enjoyed by his favour and advancement, so great a fortune, both in Honour and Riches; a man, that was tyed unto him in so near a band of Alliance, his Brother having married the King's Mother; and lastly, a man to whom he had committed the trust of his Person, in making him his Chamberlain. That this Man, no ways disgraced, no ways discontent, no ways put in fear, should be false unto him. Clifford was required to say over again, and again, the Particulars of his Accusation; being warned, that in a matter so unlikely, and that concerned so great a Servant of the King's, he should not in any wise go too far. But the King finding that he did sadly, and constantly (without hesitation or varying, and with those civil Protestations that were fit) stand to that that he had said, offering to justifie it upon his soul and life; he caused him to be removed. And after he had not a little be∣moaned himself unto his Council there present, gave order that Sir William Stanley should be restrained in his own Chamber, where he lay before, in the Square Tower. And the next day he was examined by the Lords. Upon his Examination, he denyed little of that wherewith he was charged, nor endeavoured much to ex∣cuse or extenuate his fault. So that (not very wisely) thinking to make his Offence less by Confession, he made it enough for Con∣demnation. It was conceived, that he trusted much to his former Merits, and the interest that his Brother had in the King. But those helps were over-weighed by divers things that made against him, and were predominant in the King's nature and mind. First, an Over-merit; for convenient Merit, unto which reward may easily reach, doth best with Kings. Next the sense of his Power; for the King thought, that he that could set him up, was the more dangerous to pull him down. Thirdly, the glimmering of a Con∣fiscation; for he was the richest Subject for value in the Kingdom: there being found in his Castle of Holt forty thousand Marks in ready Money, and Plate, besides Jewels, Houshold-stuff, Stocks upon his grounds, and other Personal Estate, exceeding great. And for his Revenue in Land and Fee, it was three thousand Pounds a year of old-Rent, a great matter in those times. Lastly, the

Nature of the Time; for if the King had been out of fear of his own Estate, it was not unlike he would have spared his life. But the Cloud of so great a Rebellion hanging over his head, made him work sure. Wherefore after some six Weeks distance of time, which the King did honorably interpose, both to give space to his Brother's Intercession, and to shew to the world, that he had a conflict with himself what he should do; he was arraigned of High-Treason, and condemned, and presently after beheaded.

Yet it is to this day left but in dark memory, both what the Case of this Noble Person was, for which he suffered; and what like∣wise was the ground and cause of his defection, and the alienation of his heart from the King. His Case was said to be this: That in discourse between Sir Robert Clifford and him, he had said, That if he were sure, that that young man were King Edward's Son, he would never bear Arms against him. This Case seems somewhat an hard Case, both in respect of the Conditional, and in respect of the other words. But for the Conditional, it seems the Judges of that time (who were Learned men, and the three chief of them of the Privy Council) thought it was a dangerous thing to admit Ifs and Ands, to qualifie words of Treason; whereby every man might express his malice, and blanch his danger. And it was like to the Case (in the following times) of Elizabeth-Barton, the holy Maid of Kent; who had said, That if King Henry the Eighth did not take Catherine his Wife again, he should be deprived of his Crown, and dye the death of a Dog. And infinite Cases may be put of like nature. Which (it seemeth) the grave Judges taking into Consideration, would not admit of Treasons upon Condition. And as for the Positive words, That he would not bear Arms against King Edward's Son, though the words seem calm, yet it was a plain and direct Over∣ruling of the King's Title, either by Line of Lancaster, or by Act of Parliament. Which (no doubt) pierced the King more, than if Stanley had charged his Lance upon him in the field. For if Stanley would hold that opinion, that a Son of King Edward had still the better right, he being so principal a person of Authority, and favour about the King; it was to teach all England to say as much. And therefore (as those times were) that speech touched the quick. But some Writers do put this out of doubt; for they say, that Stanley did expresly promise to ayd Perkin, and sent him some help of Treasure.

Now for the Motive of his falling off from the King; It is true, that at Bosworth-Field the King was be-set, and in a manner in∣closed round about by the Troops of King Richard, and in manifest danger of his life; when this Stanley was sent by his Brother, with three thousand men to his Rescue, which he performed so, that King Richard was slain upon the Place. So as the condition of Mortal men is not capable of a greater benefit, than the King received by the hands of Stanley; being like the benefit of Christ,

at once to Saye, and Crown. For which service the King gave him great gifts, made him his Counsellor and Chamberlain; and (some what contrary to his nature) had winked at the great Spoils of Bosworth-Field, which came almost wholly to this man's hands, to his infinite enriching. Yet nevertheless blown up with the conceit of his Merit, he did not think he had received good Measure from the King, at least not Pressing-down, and Running∣over, as he expected. And his ambition was so exorbitant, and unbounded, as he became Sultor to the King for the Earldom of Chester. Which ever being a kind of Appennage to the Principality of Wales 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and using to go to the King's Son; his Suit did not only end in a Denial, but in a Distaste. The King perceiving thereby, that his Desires were intemperate, and his Cogitations vast, and irregular, and that his former Benefits were but cheap, and lightly regarded by him. Wherefore the King began not to brook him well. And as a little Leaven of new Distaste doth commonly sowre the whole Lump of former Merits, the King's Wit began now to suggest unto his Passion, that Stanley, at Bosworth-Field, though he came time enough to save his life, yet he stayed long enough to endanger it. But yet having no matter against him, he continued him in his Places, until this his Fall.

After him was made Lord Chamberlain, Giles Lord Dawbeny, a man of great sufficiency and valour; the more, because he was gentle and moderate.

There was a common Opinion, That Sir Robert Clifford (who now was become the State-Informer) was from the beginning an Emissary, and Spy of the King's; and that he fled over into Flan∣ders, with his consent and privity. But this is not probable; both because he never recovered that degree of Grace, which he had with the King before his going over: and chiefly, for that the Discovery which he had made touching the Lord Chamberlain (which was his great Service) grew not from any thing he learn'd abroad, for that he knew it well before he went.

These Executions (and especially that of the Lord Chamber∣lain's, which was the chief strength of the Party, and by means of Sir Robert Clifford, who was the most inward man of Trust amongst them) did extremely quail the Design of Perkin, and his complices, as well through Discouragement, as Distrust. So that they were now (like Sand without Lime) ill bound together; especially as many as were English: who were at a gaze, looking strange, one upon another, not knowing who was faithful to their Side; but thinking, that the King (what with his Baits, and what with his Nets) would draw them all unto him that were any thing worth. And indeed it came to pass, that divers came away by the Thred, sometimes one, and sometimes another, Barley (that was Joynt-Commissioner with Clifford) did hold out one of the longest, till Perkin was far worn; yet made his Peace

at the length. But the Fall of this Great man, being in so high Authority and Favour (as was thought) with the King; and the manner of Carriage of the Business, as if there had been secret Inquisition upon him, for a great time before, and the Cause for which he suffered, which was little more, than for saying in effect, That the Title of York was better than the Title of Lancaster; which was the Case almost of every man (at the least in Opinion;) was matter of great Terrour amongst all the King's Servants and Subjects: Insomuch, as no man almost thought himself secure; and men durst scarce commune or talk one with another: but there was a general Diffidence every where. Which nevertheless made the King rather more Absolute, than more Safe. For, Bleeding Inwards and shut Vapours strangle soonest, and oppress most.

Hereupon presently came forth Swarms and Volies of Libels (which are the Gusts of Liberty of Speech restrained, and the Females of Sedition) containing bitter Invectives, and Slanders against the King, and some of the Council. For the contriving and dispersing whereof (after great Diligence of Inquiry) five mean persons were caught, and executed.

Mean while; the King did not neglect Ireland, being the Soil where the Musbromes and Upstart-Weeds (that spring up in a Night) did chiefly prosper. He sent therefore from hence (for the better setling of his affairs there) Commissioners of both Robes: The Prior of Lanthony, to be his Chancellour in that Kingdom; and Sir Edward Poynings, with a Power of Men, and a Marshal Commission, toge∣ther with a Civil Power of his Lieutenant, with a Clause, That the Earl of Kildare, then Deputy, should obey him. But, the Wild-Irish (who were the principal Offendors) fled into the Woods and Bogs, after their manner: and those, that knew themselves guilty, in the Pale, fled to them. So that Sir Edward Poynings was en∣forced to make a Wild-Chase upon the Wild-Irish: Where (in respect of the Mountains and Fastnesses) he did little good. Which (either out of a suspicious Melancholy upon his bad Success, or the better to save his service from Disgrace) he would needs impute unto the Comfort, that the Rebels should receive under-hand from the Earl of Kildare; every light suspition growing upon the Earl, in respect of the Kildare that was in the Action of Lambert Simnel, and slain at Stoke-field. Wherefore he caused the Earl to be apprehended, and sent into England; where, upon Examination, he cleared himself so well, as he was re-placed in his Government. But, Poynings (the better to make compensation of the Meagerness of his Service in the Wars, by acts of Peace) called a Parliament; where was made that memorable Act, which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this day is called Poynings Law, whereby all the Statutes of England were made to be of force in Ireland. For, before they were not: neither are any now in force in Ireland, which were made in England since that time; which was the tenth year of the King.

About this time, began to be discovered in the King that dispo∣sition, which, afterward nourished and whet-on by bad Counsellors and Ministers, proved the Blot of his times; which was, the course he took, to crush Treasure out of his Subjects Purses, by Forfeitures upon Penal Laws. At this, men did startle the more at this time, because it appeared plainly to be in the King's Nature, and not out of his Necessity, he being now in Float for Treasure; For that he had newly received the Peace-money from France, the Benevo∣lence-money from his Subjects, and great Casualties upon the Con∣fiscations of the Lord Chamberlain, and divers others. The first noted Case of this kind, was that of Sir William Capel, Alderman of London: Who, upon sundry Penal Laws, was condemned in the summ of seven and twenty hundred Pounds, and compounded with the King for sixteen hundred: And yet after, Empson would have cut another Chop out of him, if the King had not died in the instant.

The Summer following, the King, to comfort his Mother (whom he did always tenderly love and revere) and to make Demonstration to the World, that the proceedings against Sir William Stanley (which was imposed upon him by necessity of State) had not in any degree diminished the affection he bare to Thomas, his Brother; went in Progress to Latham, to make merry with his Mother, and the Earl; and lay there divers days.

During this Progress, Perkin Warbeck finding, that time and temporizing, which (whilest his practices were covert and wrought well in England) made for him; did now, when they were dis∣covered and defeated, rather make against him, (for that when matters once go down the Hill, they stay not without a new force) resolved to try his adventure in some exploit upon England; hoping still upon the affections of the Common People towards the House of York. Which body of Common People he thought was not to be practised upon, as persons of Quality are; But, that they only practice upon their affections, was, to set up a Standard in the field. The Place where he should make his Attempt, he chose to be the Coast of Kent.

The King by this time was grown to such an height of Repu∣tation for cunning and Policy, that every Accident and Event, that went well, was laid and imputed to his foresight, as if he had set it before: As, in this particular of Perkin's Design upon Kent. For, the world would not believe afterwards, but the King, having secret Intelligence of Perkin's intention for Kent (the better to draw it on) went of purpose into the North, a-far∣off, laying an open side unto Perkin, to make him come to the close, and so to trip up his heels, having made sure in Kent before∣hand.

But so it was, that Perkin had gathered together a Power of all Nations, neither in number, not in the hardiness and courage of

the Persons, contemptible; but, in their nature and fortunes, to be feared as well of Friends as Enemies; being Bankrupts, and many of them Felons, and such as lived by Rapine. These he put to Sea, and arrived upon the Coast of Sandwich and Deal in Kent, about July.

There he cast Anchor; and to prove the affections of the People, sent some of his men to land, making great boast of the Power that was to follow. The Kentish-men (perceiving that Perkin was not followed by any English of name or account, and that his forces consisted but of strangers born, and most of them base People, and Free-booters, fitter to spoil a Coast, than to recover a Kingdom) re∣sorting unto the principal Gentlemen of the Countrey, professed their loyalty to the King, and desired to be directed and com∣manded for the best of the King's service. The Gentlemen, entring into Consultation, directed some forces in good number, to shew themselves upon the Coast; and some of them to make signs, to entice Perkin's Soldiers to land, as if they would joyn with them: and some others to appear from some other places, and to make semblance as if they fled from them; the better to encourage them to land. But, Perkin (who, by playing the Prince, or else taught by Secretary Frion, had learned thus much, That People under Command, do use to consult, and after to march in order; and Rebels contrariwise run upon an Head together in confusion) con∣sidering the delay of time, and observing their orderly, and not tumultuary Arming, doubted the worst. And therefore the wily Youth would not set one foot out of his Ship, till he might see things were sure. Wherefore the King's Forces, perceiving that they could draw on no more than those that were formerly landed, set upon them, and cut them in pieces, ere they could flie back to their Ships. In which Skirmish (besides those that fled, and were slain) there were taken about an hundred and fifty persons. Which, for that the King thought, that to punish a few for example was Gentleman's play, but for Rascal-People, they were to be cut off every man, especially in the beginning of an Enterprize; and likewise for that he saw, that Perkin's Forces would now consist chiefly of such Rabble and scum of desperate people; he therefore hanged them all, for the greater terrour. They were brought to London, all rail'd in Ropes, like a Team of Horses in a Cart; and were executed some of them at London, and Wapping, and the rest at divers places upon the Sea-Coast of Kent, Sussex, and Norfolk, for Sea-marks, or Light-houses, to teach Perkin's People to avoid the Coast. The King, being advertised of the landing of the Rebels, thought to leave his Progress: But, being certified the next day, that they were partly defeated, and partly fled, he continued his Progress, and sent Sir Richard Guilford into Kent in message. Who, calling the Countrey together, did much com∣mend (from the King) their fidelity, manhood, and well handling

of that service; and gave them all thanks, and (in private) pro∣mised Reward to some particulars.

Upon the sixteenth of November (this being the Eleventh year of the King) was holden the Serjeants-Feast, at Ely-Place; there being nine Serjeants of that Call. The King, to honour the Feast, was present with his Queen at the Dinner; being a Prince, that was ever ready to grace and countenance the Professors of the Law; having a little of that, That as he governed his Subjects by his Laws, so he governed his Laws by his Lawyers.

This year also the King entred into League with the Italian Po∣tentates, for the defence of Italy, against France. For, King Charles had conquered the Realm of Naples, and lost it again, in a kind of Felicity of a Dream. He passed the whole length of Italy without resistance: so that it was true which Pope Alexander was wont to say; That the French-men came into Italy, with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in their hands, to mark up their lodgings, rather than with Swords to fight. He likewise entred and won, in effect, the whole Kingdom of Naples it self, without striking stroke. But, presently there∣upon, he did commit and multiply so many Errours, as was too great a task for the best fortune to overcome. He gave no con∣tentment to the Barons of Naples, of the Faction of the Angeovines; but, scattered his rewards according to the mercenary appetites of some about him. He put all Italy upon their Guard, by the seizing and holding of Ostia, and the protecting of the Liberty of Pisa: which made all men suspect that his purposes looked further, than his Title of Naples. He fell too soon at difference with Lu∣dovico Sfortia; who was the man that carried the Keys which brought him in, and shut him out. He neglected to extinguish some reliques of the War. And lastly, in regard of his easie passage through Italy without resistance, he entred into an over-much despising of the Arms of the Italians: whereby he left the Realm of Naples, at his departure, so much the less provided. So that not long after his return; the whole Kingdom revolted to Ferdi∣nando the younger, and the French were quite driven out. Never∣theless, Charles did make both great threats, and great prepa∣rations, to re-enter Italy once again. Wherefore, at the instance of divers of the States of Italy (and especially of Pope Alexander, there was a League concluded, between the said Pope, Maximilian King of Romans, Henry King of England, Ferdinando and Isabella, King and Queen of Spain (for so they are constantly placed in the Original Treaty throughout,) Augustissimo Barbadico, Duke of Venice and Ludovico Sfortia, Duke of Millan, for the common defence of their Estates. Wherein though Ferdinando of Naples was not named as principal; yet, no doubt, the Kingdom of Naples was tacitly included, as a Fee of the Church.

There dyed also this year Cecile, Duchess of York, Mother to King Edward the Fourth, at her Castle of Barkbamstead, being of extreme

years; and who had lived to see three Princes of her body crowned, and four murthered. She was buried at Foderingham, by her Hus∣band.

This year also the King called his Parliament: where many Laws were made, of a more private and vulgar nature, than ought to detain the Reader of an History. And it may be justly suspected, by the proceedings following, that as the King did excell in good Common-wealth Laws; so nevertheless he had, in secret, a de∣sign to make use of them, as well for collecting of Treasure, as for correcting of Manners; and so, meaning thereby to harrow his People, did accumulate them the rather.

The principal Law, that was made this Parliament, was a Law of a strange nature: rather just, than legal; and more magnani∣mous than provident. This Law did ordain, That no person, that did assist in Arms, or otherwise, the King for the time be∣ing, should after be impeached therefore, or attainted, either by the course of the Law, or by Act of Parliament: But, if any such Act of Attainder did happen to be made, it should be void, and of none effect; For that it was agreeable to reason of Estate, that the Subject should not enquire of the justness of the King's Title, or Quarrel; and it was agreeable to good Conscience, (that what∣soever the fortune of the War were) the Subject should not suffer for his Obedience. The spirit of this Law was wonderful Pious and Noble: being like in matter of War, unto the spirit of David in matter of Plague, who said, If I have sinned, strike me; but what have these sheep done? Neither wanted this Law parts of pru∣dent and deep fore-sight. For, it did the better take away occasion, for the People to busie themselves, to pry into the King's Title for that howsoever it fell, their safety was already provided for. Besides, it could not but greatly draw unto him, the love and hearts of the People, because he seemed more careful for them, than for himself. But yet nevertheless, it did take off from his Party, that great Tye and Spur of necessity, to fight and go Victors out of the field; considering their lives and fortunes were put in safety, and protected, whether they stood to it, or ran away. But the force and obligation of this Law was in it self Illusory, as to the latter part of it; by a precedent Act of Parliament, to bind or frustrate a future. For a supreme and absolute Power cannot conclude it self, neither can that which is in nature revocable be made fixed: no more than if a man should appoint or declare by his Will, that if he made any Latter Will, it should be void. And for the Case of the Act of Parliament, there is a notable President of it in King Henry the Eighth's time: Who, doubting he might dye in the minority of his Son, procured an Act to pass, That no Statute made during the minority of the King, should bind him or his Successors, except it were confirmed by the King under his great Seal, at his full age. But the first Act that passed in King Edward the Sixth his

time, was an Act of Repeal of that former Act; at which time nevertheless the King was Minor. But things that do not bind; may satisfie for the time.

There was also made a shoaring or under-propping Act for the Benevolence; to make the summs which any person had agreed to pay, and nevertheless were not brought in, to be leviable by course of Law. Which Act did not only bring in the Arears, but did indeed countenance the whole business, and was pretended to be made at the desire of those, that had been forward to pay.

This Parliament also was made that good Law, which gave the Attaint upon a false Verdict between Party and Party, which before was a kind of Evangile, irremediable. It extends not to causes Capital, as well because they are for the most part at the King's Suit; as because in them (if they be followed in Course of Indict∣ment) there passeth a double Jury, the Indictors and the Tryers; and so not Twelve Men, but Four and twenty. But it seemeth that was not the only reason; for this reason holdeth not in the Appeal. But the great reason was, lest it should tend to the dis∣couragement of Jurors in Cases of Life and Death; if they should be subject to Suit and Penalty, where the favour of Life maketh against them. It extendeth not also to any Suit, where the Demand is under the value of forty Pounds; for that in such Cases of petty value, it would not quit the Charge, to go about again.

There was another Law made against a branch of Ingratitude in Women, who having been advanced by their Husbands., or their Husbands Ancestors, should alien, and thereby seek to defeat the Heirs, or those in Remainder, of the Lands, whereunto they had been so advanced. The remedy was, by giving power to the next, to enter for a forfeiture.

There was also enacted that Charitable Law, for the admission of poor Suitors In Forma Pauperis, without Fee to Counsellor, At∣torney, or Clerk, whereby poor men became rather able to vex; than unable to sue. There were divers other good Laws made that Parliament, as we said before: but we still observe our man∣ner, in selecting out those, that are not of a Vulgar nature.

The King this while, though he sate in Parliament, as in full Place, and seemed to account of the designs of Perkin (who was now returned into Flanders) but as a May-game; yet having the composition of a wise-King (Stout without, and Apprehensive within) had given order for the watching of Beacons upon the Coasts, and erecting more where they stood too thin; and had a careful eye where this wandering Cloud would break. But Perkin advised to keep his fire (which hitherto burned as it were upon green wood) alive, with continual blowing; Sailed again into Ireland, whence he had formerly departed, rather upon the hopes France, than upon any unreadiness or discouragement he found in that People. But in the space of time between the King's Diligence

and Poynings Commission, had so setled things there, as there was nothing left for Perkin, but the blustring affection of wild and naked people. Wherefore he was advised by his Council, to seek ayd of the King of Scotland; a Prince young, and valorous, and in good terms with his Nobles and People, and ill affected to King Henry. At this time also both Maximilian and Charles of France began to bear no good will to the King. The one being displeased with the King's Prohibition of Commerce with Flanders; the other holding the King for suspect, in regard of his late entry into League with the Italians. Wherefore besides the open Ayds of the Duchess of Burgandy, which did with Sails and Oars put on and advance Perkin's designs, there wanted not some secret Tides from Maximilian and Charles, which did further his fortunes. In so much as they, both by their secret Letters, and Messages, recom∣mended him to the King of Scotland.

Perkin therefore coming into Scotland upon those hopes, with a well appointed company, was by the King of Scots (being for∣merly well prepared) honourably welcomed, and soon after his arrival admitted to his Presence, in a solemn manner. For the King received him in State in his Chamber of Presence, accom∣panied with divers of his Nobles. And Perkin well attended, as well with those that the King had sent before him, as with his own Train, entred the room where the King was, and coming near to the King, and bowing a little to embrace him, he retired some paces back, and with a loud voice (that all that were present might hear him) made his Declaration in this manner:

HIgh and Mighty King, your Grace, and these your Nobles here present, may be pleased benignly to bow your Ears, to hear the Tragedy of a young Man, that by right ought to hold in his hand the Ball of a Kingdom; but by Fortune is made Himself a Ball; tossed from Misery to Misery, and from Place to Place. You see here before you the Spectacle of a Plantagenet, who hath been carried from the Nursery to the Sanctuary; from the Sanctuary, to the direful Prison; from the Prison, to the hand of the cruel Tormentor; and from that hand, to the wide-Wilderness (as I may truly call it) for so the World hath been to me. So that he that is born to a great Kingdom, hath not ground to set his foot upon, more than this where he now standeth, by your Princely Favour. Edward the Fourth, late King of England, (as your Grace cannot but have heard) left two Sons; Edward, and Richard Duke of York, both very young. Edward, the eldest succeeded their Father in the Crown, by the name of King Edward the Fifth. But Richard, Duke of Gloceffer, their unnatural Uncle, first thirsting after the King∣dom, through Ambition, and afterwards thirsting for their Blood, out of desire to secure himself; employed an Instrument of his (confident to him, as he thought) to murther them both. But this Man that was employed to execate that execrable Tragedy, having cruelly slain King

Edward the eldest of the two, was moved partly by Remorse, and partly by some other mean, to save Richard his Brother; making a Report nevertheless to the Tyrant, that he had performed his Commandment for both Brethren. This Report was accordingly believed, and published generally. So that the World hath been possessed of an Opinion, that they both were barbarously made away, though ever Truth hath some sparks that flie abroad, until it appear in due time, as this hath had. But Almighty God, that stopped the mouth of the Lion, and saved little Joas from the Tyranny of Athaliah, when she massacred the King's Children; and did save Isaac, when the hand was stretched forth to sacrifice him, preserved the second Brother. For I my self, that stand here in your presence, am that very Richard, Duke of York, Brother of that infor∣tunate Prince, King Edward the Fifth, now the most rightful surviving Heir-male to that Victorious and most Noble Edward, of that name the Fourth, late King of England. For the manner of my Escape, it is fit it should pass in silence, or (at least) in a more secret Relation: for that it may concern some alive, and the memory of some that are dead. Let it suffice to think, that I had then a Mother living, a Queen, and one that expected daily such a Commandment from the Tyrant, for the murthering of her Children. Thus in my tender age escaping by God's mercy out of London, I was secretly conveyed over Sea. Where, after a time, the Party that had me in Charge, (upon what new Fears, change of Mind; or Practice, God knoweth) suddenly forsook me. Whereby I was forced to wander abroad, to seek mean Conditions for the sustaining of my Life. Wherefore distracted between several Passions, the one of fear to be known, lest the Tyrant should have a new Attempt upon me; the other of Grief and Disdain to be unknown, and to live in that base and servile manner that I did; I resolved with my self to expect the Tyrant's death, and then to put my self into my Sisters hands, who was next Heir to the Crown. But in this season, it happened one Henry Tidder, Son to Edmond Tidder Earl of Richmond, to come from France, and enter into the Realm, and by subtil and foul means to obtain the Crown of the same, which to me rightfully appertained. So that it was but a change, from Tyrant to Tyrant. This Henry, my extreme and mortal Enemy, so soon as he had knowledge of my being alive, imagined and wrought all the subtil ways and means he could, to procure my final Destruction. For my mortal Enemy hath not only falsly surmised me to be a feigned Person, giving me Nick-names, so abusing the World; but also, to deferr and put me from entry into England, hath offered large summs of Money, to corrupt the Princes and their Ministers, with whom I have been retained; and made importune Labours to certain Servants about my Person, to murther or Poyson me, and others to forsake and leave my righteous Quarrel, and to depart from my Service, as Sir Robert Clifford, and others. So that every man of Reason may well perceive, that Henry, calling himself King of England, needed not to have bestowed such great summs of Treasure, nor so to have busied himself with importune and incessant Labour and Industry, to compass my Death and Ruine, if I had

been such a feigned Person. But the truth of my Cause being so manifest, moved the most Christian King Charles, and the Lady Duchess Dowager of Burgundy, my most dear Aunt, not only to acknowledge the truth thereof, but lovingly to assist me. But it seemeth that God above (for the good of this whole Island, and the knitting of these two Kingdoms of England and Scotland in a strait Concord and Amity, by so great an Obligation) had reserved the placing of me in the Imperial Throne of England, for the Arms and Succours of your Grace. Neither is it the first time that a King of Scotland hath supported them, that were bereft and spoiled of the Kingdom of England; as of late (in fresh memory) it was done in the Person of Henry the Sixth. Wherefore for that your Grace hath given clear signs, that you are in no Noble quality inferiour to your Royal Ancestors; I, so distressed a Prince, was hereby moved to come and put my self into your Royal Hands, desiring your Assistance to recover my Kingdom of England; promising faithfully to bear my self towards your Grace no otherwise, than if I were your own Natural Brother, and will upon the Recovery of mine Inheritance, grate∣fully do you all the Pleasure that is in my utmost Power.

AFter Perkin had told his Tale, King James answered bravely and wisely;

That whatsoever he were, he should not repent him of putting himself into his hand.

And from that time forth, though there wanted not some about him, that would have per∣swaded him, that all was but an Illusion; yet notwithstanding, either taken by Perkin's amiable and alluring behaviour, or in∣clining to the recommendation of the great Princes abroad, or willing to take an occasion of a War against King Henry, he enter∣tained him in all things, as became the person of Richard Duke of York; embraced his Quarrel; (and the more to put it out of doubt, that he took him to be a great Prince, and not a Representation only) he gave consent that this Duke should take to Wife the Lady Catherine Gordon, Daughter to Earl Huntley, being a near Kinswoman to the King himself, and a young Virgin of excellent beauty and virtue.

Not long after, the King of Scots in person, with Perkin in his company, entred with a great Army (though it consisted chiefly of Borderers, being raised somewhat suddenly) into Northumberland. And Perkin, for a Perfume before him as he went, caused to be published a Proclamation of this tenour following, in the name of Richard Duke of York, true Inheritor of the Crown of England.

* 10.1 IT hath pleased God, who putteth down the Mighty from their Seat, and exalteth the Humble, and suffereth not the hopes of the Just to perish in the end, to give Us means at the length, to shew Our Selves armed unto Our Lieges and People of England. But far be it from Us, to intend their hurt and damage, or to make War upon them, otherwise than to deliver Our Self and them from Tyranny and Oppression. For, Our mortal Enemy Henry Tidder, a false 〈◊〉〈◊〉

of the Crown of England, (which tolls by Natural and Lineal Right appertaineth) knowing in his own Heart Our undoubted Right, (We being the very Richard, Duke of York; younger Son, and now surviving Heir-male of the Noble and Victorious Edward the Fourth, late King of England) hath not only deprived Us of Our Kingdom, but likewise by all foul and wicked means, sought to betray Us, and bereave Us of Our Life. Yet if his Tyranny only extended it self to Our Person (although Our Royal Blood teacheth Us to be sensible of Injuries) it should be less to Our Grief. But this Tidder, who boasteth himself to have overthrown a Tyrant, hath ever since his first entrance into his Usurped Reign, put little in practice, but Tyranny and the feats thereof.

For King Richard Our unnatural Uncle, although desire of Rule did blind him, yet in his other actions (like a true Plantagenet) was Noble, and loved the Honour of the Realm, and the Contentment and Comfort of his Nobles and People. But this Our Mortal Enemy (agreeable to the meanness of his Birth) hath trod under foot the Honour of this Nation; selling Our hest Confederates for Money, and making Merchandize of the Blood, Estates, and Fortunes of Our Peers and Subjects, by feigned wars, and dishonourable Peace, only to enrich his Coffers. Nor unlike hath been his hateful Mis-government, and evil Deportments at home. First, he hath (to fortifie his false Quarrel) caused divers Nobles of this Our Realm (whom he held Suspect, and stood in dread of) to be cruelly mur∣thred; as Our Cousin Sir William Stanley Lord Chamberlain, Sir Si∣mon Mountfort, Sir Robert Ratcliff, William Dawbeney, Hum∣phrey Stafford, and many others, besides such as have dearly bought their Lives with intolerable Ransoms. Some of which Nobles are now in the Sanctuary. Also he hath long kept, and yet keepeth in Prison, Our right entirely beloved Cousin Edward, Son and Heir to Our Uncle Duke of Clarence, and others; with-bolding from them their rightful Inhe∣ritance, to the intent they should never be of might and power, to aid and assist Us at Our need, after the duty of their Liegeances. He also married by compulsion certain of Our Sisters, and also the Sister of Our said Cousin the Earl of Warwick, and divers other Ladies of the Royal Blood, unto certain of his Kinsmen and Friends of simple and low Degree, and putting apart all well-disposed Nobles, he hath none in favour and trust about his Person, but Bishop Fox, Smith, Bray, Lovel, Oliver King, David Owen, Risley, Turbervile, Tiler, Cholmley, Empson, James Hobart, John Cut, Garth, Henry Wyat, and such other Cattiffs and Villains of Birth, which by subtil Inventions and Pilling of the People, have been the principal Finders, Occasioners, and Counsellors of the Mis-rule and Mischief now reigning in England.

We remembring these Premisses, with the great and execrable Offences daily committed and done by Our foresaid great Enemy, and his Adherents, in breaking the Liberties and Franchises of Our Mother the Holy Church, upon pretences of Wicked and Heathenish Policy, to the high displeasure of Almighty God; besides the manifold Treasons, abominable Murthers Man-slaughters, Robberies, Extortions, the daily Pilling of the People,

by Disms, Taxes, Tallages, Benevolences, and other unlawful Impositions, and grievous Exactions, with many other heinous Effects, to the likely destruction and desolation of the whole Realm; shall by God's grace, and the help and assistante of the great Lords of Our Blood, with the counsel of other sad Persons, see that the Commodities of Our Realm be employed to the most advantage of the same; the intercourse of Mer∣chandise betwixt Realm and Realm, to be ministred and handled, as shall more be to the Common-weal and prosperity of Our Subjects; and all such Disms, Taxes, Tallages, Benevolences, unlawful Impo∣sitions, and grievous Exactions, as be above rehearsed to be fore-done and laid apart, and never from henceforth to be called upon, but in such cases as Our Noble Progenitors, Kings of England, have of old time been accustomed to have the ayd, succour, and help of their Subjects and true Liege-men.

And further, We do out of Our Grace and Clemency, hereby as well publish and promise to all our Subjects Remission and free Pardon of all By-past Offences whatsoever, against Our Person, or Estate, in adhering to Our said Enemy, by whom (We know well) they have been mis-led, if they shall within time convenient submit themselves unto Us. And for such as shall come with the foremost, to assist Our Righteous Quarrel, We shall make them so far partakers of Our Princely Favour and Bounty; as shall be highly for the Comfort of them and theirs, both during their life, and after their death. As also We shall by all means, which God shall put into Our hands, demean Our selves to give Royal contentment to all Degrees and Estates of Our People, maintaining the Liberties of Holy Church in their Entire, preserving the Honours, Priviledges, and Prebeminences of Our Nobles, from contempt or disparagement, ac∣cording to the dignity of their Blood. We shall also unyoak. Our People from all heavy Burthens and Endurances, and confirm Our Cities, Bo∣roughs, and Towns in their Charters and Freedoms, with enlargement, where it shall be deserved, and in all points give Our Subjects cause to think, that the blessed and debonair Government of Our Noble Father King Edward (in his last times) is in Us revived.

And for as much as the putting to death, or taking alive of Our said Mortal Enemy, may be a mean to stay much effusion of Blood, which otherwise may ensue, if by Compulsion or fair Promises, he shall draw after him any number of Our Subjects to resist Us; whith We desire to avoid (though We be certainly informed, that Our said Enemy is pur∣posed and prepared to flie the Land, having already made over great masses of the Treasure of Our Crown, the better to support him in Forein Parts) We do hereby declare, That whosoever shall take or distress Our said Enemy (though the Party be of never so mean a Condition) he shall be by Us rewarded with a Thousand Pound in Money, forthwith to be laid down to him, and an Hundred Marks by the year of Inheritance; besides that he may otherwise merit, both toward God and all good People, for the destruction of such a Tyrant.

Lastly, We do all men to wit; and herein We take also God to witness,

That whereas God hath moved the Heart of Our dearest Cousin, the King of Scotland, to aid Us in Person, in this Our righteous Quarrel; it is altogether without any Pact or Promise, or so much as demand of any thing, that may prejudice Our Crown, or Subjects: But contrariwise with promise on Our said Cousin's part, that whensoever he shall find Us in sufficient strength to get the upper hand of Our Enemy, (which we hope will be very suddenly) he will forthwith peaceably return into his own Kingdom; contenting himself only with the glory of so Honourable an Enterprize, and Our true and faithful Love and Amity. Which We shall ever (by the Grace of Almighty God) so order, as shall be to the great comfort of both Kingdoms.

BUT Perkin's Proclamation did little edifie with the people of England; neither was he the better welcom for the com∣pany he came in. Wherefore the King of Scotland seeing none came in to Perkin, nor none stirred any where in his favour, turned his Enterprize into a Rode; and wasted and destroyed the Countrey of Northumberland with fire and sword. But hearing that there were Forces coming against him, and not willing that they should find his men heavy and laden with booty, he returned into Scotland with great Spoils, deferring further prosecution, till another time. It is said, that Perkin acting the part of a Prince handsomly, when he saw the Scottish fell to waste the Countrey, came to the the King in a passionate manner, making great lamentation, and desired, That that might not be the manner of making the War, for that no Crown was so dear to his mind, as that he desired to purchase it with the blood and ruine of his Countrey. Whereunto the King answered half in sport; that he doubted much, he was careful for that that was none of his, and that he should be too good a Steward for his Enemy, to save the Countrey to his use.

By this time, being the Eleventh year of the King, the Inter∣ruption of Trade between the English and the Plemmish, began to pinch the Merchants of both Nations very sore. Which moved them, by all means they could devise, to affect and dispose their Savereigns respectively, to open the Intercourse again. Wherein, time favoured them. For the Arch-Duke and his Council began to see, that Perkin would prove but a Runnagate, and Citizen of the World; and that it was the part of Children to fall out about Babies. And the King on his part, after the Attempts upon Kent and Northumberland, began to have the business of Perkin in less esti∣mation; so as he did not put it to accompt, in any Consultation of State. But that that moved him most, was, that being a King that loved Wealth and Treasure, he could not endure to have Trade sick, nor any Obstruction to continue in the Gate-vein, which disperseth that blood. And yet he kept State so far, as first to be sought unto. Wherein the Merchant-Adventurers likewise, (being a strong Company at that time, and well under-set with rich men,

and good order) did hold out bravely; taking off the Commo∣dities of the Kingdom, though they lay dead upon their hands for want of Vent. At the last, Commissioners met at London, to Treat. On the King's part; Bishop Fox Lord Privy Seal, Viscount Wells; Kendal Prior of St. John's, Warham Master of the Polls, who began to gain much upon the King's opinion; Urswick, who was almost ever one; and Risley. On the Arch-Duke's part, the Lord Bevers his Admiral, the Lord Verunsel President of Flanders, and others. These concluded a perfect Treaty, both of Amity and Intercourse, between the King and the Arch-Duke; containing Articles both of State, Commerce, and Free-Fishing. This is that Treaty, which the Flemings call at this day; Intercursus Magnus; both because it is more compleat, than the precedent Treaties of the Third and Fourth years of the King: and chiefly to give it a difference from the Treaty (that followed in the One and twentieth year of the King, which they call Intercursus Malus. In this Treaty, there was an express Article against the Reception of the Rebels of either Prince by other; purporting, that if any such Rebel should be required by the Prince whose Rebel he was, of the Prince Confede∣rate, that forthwith the Prince Confederate should by Proclamation command him to avoid the Countrey. Which if he did not within fifteen days, the Rebel was to stand proscribed, and put out of Pro∣tection. But nevertheless in this Article, Perkin was not named, neither perhaps contained, because he was no Rebel. But by this means his wings were clipt off his Followers, that were English. And it was expresly comprised in the Treaty, that it should extend to the Territories of the Duchess Dowager. After the Intercourse thus restored, the English Merchants came again to their Mansion at Antwerp, where they were received with Procession and great Joy.

The Winter sollowing, being the Twelfth year of his reign, the King called again his Parliament: Where he did much exaggerate both the Malice, and the cruel Predatory War lately made by the King of Scotland; That that King, being in Amity with him, and no ways provoked, should so burn in hatred towards him, as to drink of the Lees and Dregs of Perkin's Intoxication, who was every where else detected and discarded. And that when he perceived it was out of his reach, to do the King any hurt, he had turned his Arms upon unarmed and unprovided people, to spoil only and depopu∣late, contrary to the Laws both of War and Peace: Concluding, that he could neither with Honour, nor with the safety of his People, to whom he did owe Protection, let pass these wrongs unrevenged. The Parliament understood him well, and gave him a Subsidy, limited to the summ of one hundred and twenty thou∣sand Pounds, besides two Fifteens. For his Wars were always to him as a Mine of Treasure, of a strange kind of Ore; Iron at the top, and Gold and Silver at the bottom. At this Parliament (for that

there had been so much time spent in making Laws the year before; and for that it was called purposely in respect of the Scottish War, there were no Laws made to be remembred. Only there passed a Law, at the Suit of the Merchant-Adventurers of England, against the Merchant-Adventurers of London, for Monopolizing and exacting upon the Trade: which it seemeth they did, a little to save them∣selves, after the hard time they had sustained by want of Trade. But those Innovations were taken away by Parliament.

But it was fatal to the King, to fight for his Money. And though he avoided to fight with Enemies abroad, yet he was still enforced to fight for it with Rebels at home. For no sooner began the Subsidie to be levied in Cornwal, but the people there began to grudge and murmur. The Cornish being a race of men, stout of stomach, mighty of body and limb, and that lived hardly in a barren Countrey, and many of them could (for a need) live under ground, that were Tinners; they muttered extremely, that it was a thing not to be suffered, that for a little stir of the Scots, soon blown over, they should be thus grinded to Powder with Payments: And said, it was for them to pay, that had too much, and lived idly. But they would eat the bread they got with the sweat of their brows, and no man should take it from them. And as in the Tides of People once up, there want not commonly stirting Winds to make them more rough: So this People did light upon two Ring-leaders, or Captains of the Rout. The one was one Michael Joseph, a Black-smith or Farrier of Bodmin; a notable talking Fel∣low, and no less desirous to be talked of. The other was Thomas Flammocke, a Lawyer; who, by telling his neighbours commonly upon any occasion, that the Law was on their side, had gotten great sway amongst them. This man talked learnedly, and as if he could tell how to make a Rebellion, and never break the Peace. He told the people, that Subsidies were not to be granted nor levied in this case; that is, for Wars of Scotland, (for that the Law had provided another course, by service of Escuage, for those Journies,) much less when all was quiet, and War was made but a Pretence to poll and pill the People: And therefore that it was good, they should not stand now like sheep before the Shearers, but put on Harness, and take Weapons in their hands: Yet to do no creature hurt; but go and deliver the King a Strong Petition, for the laying down of those grievous Payments, and for the punishment of those that had given him that Counsel; to make others beware how they did the like in time to come: And said, for his part he did not see how they could do the duty of true English-men, and good Liege-men, except they did deliver the King from such wicked Ones that would destroy both Him and the Countrey. Their aim was at Archbishop Morton, and Sir Reginald Bray, who were the King's Skreens in this Envy.

After that these two, Flammocke and the Black-smith, had, by

joynt and several Pratings, found tokens of consent in the Multi∣tude, they offered themselves to lead them, until they should hear of better men, to be their Leaders; which they said would be ere long: Telling them further, that they would be but their servants, and first in every danger; but doubted not but to make both the West-end and East-end of England to meet in so good a Quarrel; and that all (rightly understood) was but for the King's service. The People, upon these seditious Instigations, did arm (most of them with Bows, and Arrows, and Bills, and such other Weapons of rude and Countrey People) and forthwith under the Command of their Leaders (which in such cases is ever at pleasure) marched out of Cornwal, through Devonshire, unto Taunton in Somersetshire, without any slaughter, violence, or spoil of the Countrey. At Taunton they killed, in fury, an officious and eager Commissioner for the Subsidie, whom they called the Provoct of Perin. Thence they marched to Wells: where the Lord Audley (with whom their Leaders had; before, some secret Intelligence) a Noble-man of an ancient Family, but unquiet and popular, and aspiring to Ruine, came-in to them, and was by them (with great gladness and cries of Joy) accepted as their General; they being now proud, that they were led by a Noble-man. The Lord Audley led them on from Wells to Salisbury, and from Salisbury to Winchester. Thence the foolish people, who (in effect) led their Leaders, had a mind to be led into Kent; fancying, that the people there would joyn with them, contrary to all reason or judgment; considering, the Kentish-men had shewed great Loyalty and Affection to the King so lately before. But the rude People had heard Flammock say, that Kent was never Conquered, and that they were the freest People of England. And, upon these vain Noises, they looked for great matters at their hands, in a cause which they conceited to be for the liberty of the Subject. But when they were come into Kent, the Countrey was so well setled, both by the King's late kind usage towards them, and by the credit and power of the Earl of Kent, the Lord Abergaveny, and the Lord Cobham, as neither Gentleman nor Yeoman came-in to their aid; which did much damp and dismay many of the simpler sort: Insomuch, as divers of them did secretly flie from the Army, and went home. But the sturdier sort, and those that were most engaged, stood by it, and rather waxed Proud, than failed in Hopes and Courage. For as it did somewhat appall them, that the people came not in to them; so it did no less encourage them, that the King's Forces had not set upon them, having marched from the West unto the East of England. Where∣fore they kept on their way, and encamped upon Black-heath, be∣tween Greenwich and Eltham; threatning either to bid Battel to the King, (for now the Seas went higher than to Morton, and Bray) or to take London within his view, imagining with themselves, there to find no less Fear, than Wealth.

But to return to the King. When first he heard of this Com∣motion of the Cornish-men occasioned by the Subsidie, he was much troubled therewith: Not for it self, but in regard of the Concur∣rence of other Dangers, that did hang over him at that time. For he doubted lest a War from Scotland, a Rebellion from Cornwal, and the Practices and Conspiracies of Perkin and his Partakers, would come upon him at once; Knowing well, that it was a dangerous Triplicity to a Monarchy, to have the Arms of a Foreiner, the Dis∣contents of Subjects, and the Title of a Pretender, to meet. Never∣theless, the Occasion took him in some part well provided. For as soon as the Parliament had broken up, the King had presently raised a puissant Army, to war upon Scotland. And King James of Scot∣land likewise, on his part, had made great preparations either for defence, or for new assailing of England. But as for the King's Forces, they were not only in preparation, but in readiness pre∣sently to set forth, under the Conduct of Dawbeney, the Lord Chamberlain. But as soon as the King understood of the Rebel∣lion of Cornwal, he stayed those Forces, retaining them for his own service and safety. But therewithal he dispatched the Earl of Surrey into the North, for the defence and strength of those parts, in case the Scots should stir. But for the course he held towards the Rebels, it was utterly differing from his former custom, and practice; which was ever full of forwardness and celerity, to make head against them, or to set upon them as soon as ever they were in Action. This he was wont to do. But now, besides that he was attempered by Years, and less in love with Dangers, by the conti∣nued Fruition of a Crown; it was a time when the various ap∣pearance to his Thoughts of Perils of several Natures, and from divers Parts, did make him judge it his best and surest way, to keep his Strength together, in the Seat and Centre of his Kingdom. According to the ancient Indian Emblem; in such a swelling Season, To hold the hand upon the middle of the Bladder, that no side might rise. Besides, there was no necessity put upon him, to alter this Counsel. For neither did the Rebels spoil the Countrey; in which case it had been dishonour to abandon his People: Neither on the other side, did their Forces gather or increase, which might hasten him to precipitate and assail them, before they grew too strong. And lastly, both Reason of Estate and War seemed to agree with this course; For that Insurrections of base People are com∣monly more furious in their Beginnings. And by this means also he had them the more at Vantage, being tired and harrassed with a long march; and more at Mercy, being cut off far from their Countrey, and therefore not able by any sudden flight to get to Retrait, and to renew the Troubles.

When therefore the Rebels were encamped on Black-heath, upon the Hill, whence they might behold the City of London, and the fair Valley about it: the King knowing well, that it stood him upon,

by how much the more he had hitherto protracted the time in not encountring them, by so much the sooner to dispatch with them, that it might appear to have been no Coldness in foreslow∣ing, but Wisdom in choosing his time; resolved with all speed to assail them, and yet with that Providence, and Surety, as should leave little to Venture or Fortune. And having very great and puissant Forces about him, the better to master all Events and Accidents, he divided them into three parts. The first was led by the Earl of Oxford in chief, assisted by the Earls of Essex and Suf∣folk. These Noble-men were appointed, with some Cornets of Horses and Bands of Foot, and good store of Artillery wheeling about to put themselves beyond the Hill, where the Rebels were en∣camped; and to beset all the skirts and descents thereof, except those that lay towards London; whereby to have these Wild Beasts (as it were) in a Toyl. The second part of his Forces (which were those that were to be most in Action, and upon which he relyed most for the Fortune of the Day) he did assign to be led by the Lord Chamberlain, who was appointed to set upon the Rebels in Front, from that side which is toward London. The third part of his Forces (being likewise great and brave Forces) he retained about himself, to be ready, upon all Events, to restore the Fight, or consummate the Victory; and mean while, to secure the City. And for that purpose he encamped in Person in St. George's Fields, put∣ting himself between the City and the Rebels. But the City of London (specially at the first) upon the near encamping of the Rebels, was in great Tumult: As it useth to be with wealthy and populous Cities, (especially those, which, for greatness and for∣tune, are Queens of their Regions) who seldom see out of their Windows, or from their Towers, an Army of Enemies. But that which troubled them most, was the conceit, that they dealt with a Rout of People, with whom there was no Composition, or Con∣dition, or orderly Treating, if need were, but likely to be bent altogether upon Rapine and Spoil. And although they had heard that the Rebels had behaved themselves quietly and modestly, by the way as they went; yet they doubted much, that would not last, but rather make them more hungry, and more in appetire, to fall upon spoil in the end. Wherefore there was great running to and fro of People, some to the Gates, some to the Walls, some to the Water 〈◊〉〈◊〉; giving themselves Alarms, and Panick fears con∣tinually. Nevertheless, both Tate the Lord Mayor, and Shaw, and Haddon, the Sheriffs, did their parts stoutly and well, in arming and ordering the People. And the King likewise did adjoyn some Captains of experience in the Wars, to advise and assist the Citizens. But soon aften, when they understood that the King had so ordered the matter, that the Rebels must win three Battels, before they could approach the City, and that he had put his own Person between the Rebels and them, and that the great care was rather

how to impound the Rebels, that none of them might escape, than that any doubt was made to vanquish them; they grew to be quiet and out of fear. The rather, for the confidence they reposed (which was not small) in the three Leaders, Oxford, Essex, and Dawbency; all, men famed and loved amongst the People. As for Jasper Duke of Bedford, whom the King used to employ with the first in his Wars, he was then sick, and dyed soon after.

It was the two and twentieth of June, and a Saturday (which was the day of the week the King fancied) when the Battel was fought; though the King had, by all the Art he could devise; given out a false Day, as if he prepared to give the Rebels Battel on the Monday following, the better to find them unprovided, and in disarray. The Lords, that were appointed to circle the Hill, had some days before planted themselves (as at the Receipt) in places convenient. In the afternoon, towards the decline of the day, (which was done, the better to keep the Rebels in opinion that they should not fight that day) the Lord Dawbeney marched on towards them, and first beat some Troops of them from Det∣ford-bridge, where they fought manfully: But being in no great number were soon driven back, and fled up to their main Army upon the Hill. The Army, at that time hearing of the approach of the King's Forces, were putting themselves in Array, not without much Confusion. But neither had they placed upon the first high-ground towards the Bridge, any Forces to second the Troops below, that kept the Bridge; neither had they brought forwards their Main-Battel (which stood in array far into the Heath) near to the ascent of the Hill. So that the Earl with his Forces mounted the Hill, and recovered the Plain, without re∣sistance. The Lord Dawbeney charged them with great fury; Insomuch, as it had like (by accident) to have brandled the For∣tune of the Day. For, by inconsiderate Forwardness in fighting in the head of his Troops, he was taken by the Rebels; but, im∣mediately rescued, and delivered. The Rebels maintained the Fight for a small time, and for their Persons shewed no want of courage: but being ill armed, and ill led, and without Horse or 〈◊〉〈◊〉, they were with no great difficulty cut in pieces, and put to flight. And for their three Leaders; the Lord Audley, the Black-smith, and Flammocke, (as, commonly the Captains of Commotions are but half-couraged Men) suffered themselves to be taken alive. The number slain on the Rebels part, were some two thousand men, their Army amounting (as it is said) unto the number of sixteen thousand. The rest were (in effect) all taken; for that the Hill, as was said, was encompassed with the King's Forces round about. On the King's part there dyed about three hundred; most of them shot with Arrows, which were reported to be of the length of a Taylor's-yard: So strong and mighty a Bow the Cornish-men were said to draw.

The Victory thus obtained, the King created divers Bannerets, as well upon Black-heath, where his Lieutenant had won the Field (whither he rode in Person to perform the said Creation) as in St. George's Fields, where his own person had been encamped. And for matter of Liberality, he did (by open Edict) give the goods of all the Prisoners, unto those that had taken them; either to take them in Kind, or compound for them as they could. After matter of Honour and Liberality, followed matter of Severity and Execution. The Lord Audley was led from Newgate to Tower-hill, in a Paper-Coat painted with his own Arms; the Arms reversed, the Coat torn, and he at Tower-hill beheaded. Flammocke, and the Black-smith were hanged, drawn, and quartered at Ty∣burn; The Black-smith taking pleasure upon the Hurdle (as it seemeth by words that he uttered) to think that he should be famous in after-times. The King was once in mind to have sent down Flammocke, and the Black-smith, to have been executed in Cornwal, for the more terrour. But, being advertised, that the Countrey was yet unquiet and boyling, he thought better not to irritate the People further. All the rest were pardoned by Proclamation, and to take out their Pardons under Seal, as many as would: So that, more than the blood drawn in the Field, the King did satisfie him∣self with the lives of only three Offenders, for the expiation of this great Rebellion.

It was a strange thing, to observe the variety and inequality of the King's Executions and Pardons. And a man would think it, at the first, a kind of Lottery or Chance. But, looking into it more nearly, one shall find there was reason for it, much more perhaps than (after so long a distance of time) we can now discern. In the Kentish Commotion (which was but an handful of men) there were executed to the number of one hundred and fifty; and, in this so mighty a Rebellion, but three: Whether it were, that the King put to accompt the men that were slain in the field; or that he was not willing to be severe in a popular cause; or that the harmless behaviour of this People (that came from the West of England, to the East, without mischief almost, or spoil of the Countrey) did somewhat mollifie him, and move him to com∣passion; or lastly, that he made a great difference between Peo∣ple, that did rebel upon Wantonness, and them that did rebel upon Want.

After the Cornish-men were defeated, there came from Calioe to the King, an honourable Ambassage from the French King, which had arrived at Calice a Month before, and there was stayed in respect of the troubles; but honourably entertained and defrayed.

The King, at their first coming, sent unto them, and prayed them to have patience, till a little Smoak, that was raised in his Countrey, were over, which would soon be: Slighting (as his man∣ner was) that openly, which nevertheless he intended seriously.

This Ambassage concerned no great Affair; but only the Pro∣longation of Days for payment of Moneys, and some other Par∣ticulars of the Frontiers. And it was (indeed) but a wooing Ambassage; with good respects to entertain the King in good affection: but nothing was done, or handled, to the derogation of the King's late Treaty with the Italians.

But, during the time that the Cornish-men were in their march towards London, the King of Scotland (well advertised of all that passed, and knowing himself sure of War from England, whensoever those Stirs were appeased) neglected not his opportunity; But, thinking the King had his hands full, entred the Frontiers of England again with an Army, and besieged the Castle of Norham in Person, with part of his Forces, sending the rest to forrage the Countrey. But Fox, Bishop of Duresm (a wise man, and one that could see through the Present, to the Future) doubting as much before, had caused his Castle of Norham to be strongly fortified, and furnished, with all kind of Munition: And had manned it likewise, with a very great number of tall Soldiers, more than for the proportion of the Castle; reckoning rather upon a sharp As∣sault, than a long Siege. And for the Countrey likewise, he had caused the people withdraw their Cattel and Goods into Fact Places, that were not of easie approach; and sent in post to the Earl of Surrey (who was not far off, in Yorkshire) to come in dili∣gence to the Succour. So as the Scottish King both failed of doing good upon the Castle, and his men had but a catching Harvest of their Spoils. And when he understood, that the Earl of Surrey was coming on with great Forces, he returned back into Scotland. The Earl finding the Castle freed, and the Enemy retired, pursued with all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into Scotland; hoping to have overtaken the Scottish King, and to have given him Battel; But not attaining him in time, sate down before the Castle of Aton (one of the strongest places, then esteemed, between Berwick and Edenburgh) which in a small time he took. And soon after, the Scottish King retiring further into his Countrey, and the weather being extraor∣dinary foul and stormy, the Earl returned into England. So that the Expeditions on both parts were (in effect) but a Castle taken, and a Castle distressed; not answerable to the puissance of the Forces, nor to the heat of the Quarrel, nor to the greatness of the Expectation.

Amongst these Troubles, both Civil and External, came into England from Spain Peter Hialas, some call him Elias, (surely he was the fore runner of the good Hap, that we enjoy at this day. For his Ambassage set the Truce between England and Scotland; the Truce drew on the Peace; the Peace the Marriage; and the Marriage the Union of the Kingdoms) a man of great Wisdom, and (as those times were) not unlearned; sent from Ferdinando and Isabella Kings of Spain unto the King, to treat a Marriage between

Catherine their second Daughter, and Prince Arthur. This Treaty was by him set in a very good way, and almost brought to per∣fection. But it so fell out by the way, that upon some Conference which he had with the King touching this business, the King (who had a great dexterity in getting suddenly into the bosom of Ambassadors of forein Princes, if he liked the men; Insomuch as he would many times communicate with them of his own affairs; yea and employ them in his service) fell into speech and discourse incidently, concerning the ending the Debates and differences with Scotland. For the King naturally did not love the barren Wars with Scotland, though he made his profit of the Noise of them. And he wanted not in the Council of Scotland those that would advise their King to meet him at the half-way, and to give over the War with England; pretending to be good Patriots, but indeed favouring the affairs of the King. Only his heart was too great to begin with Scotland for the motion of Peace. On the other side, he had met with an Allie of Ferdinando of Arragon, as fit for his turn as could be. For after that King Ferdinando had; upon assured confidence of the Marriage to succeed, taken upon him the person of a Fraternal Allie to the King, he would not let (in a Spanish gravity) to counsel the King in his own affairs. And the King on his part not being wanting to himself, but making use of every man's humours, made his advantage of this in such things as he thought either not decent, or not pleasant to proceed from himself; putting them off, as done by the Counsel of Ferdi∣nando. Wherefore he was content that Hialas (as in a matter moved and advised from Hialas himself) should go into Scotland, to treat of a Concord between the two Kings. Hialas took it upon him: and coming to the Scottish King, after he had with much Art brought King James to hearken to the more safe and quiet Counsels, wrote unto the King, that he hoped that Peace would with no great difficulty cement and close, if he would send some wise and temperate Counsellor of his own, that might treat of the Conditions. Whereupon the King directed Bishop Fox (who at that time was at his Castle of Norham) to confer with Hialas, and they both to treat with some Commissioners, deputed from the Scottish King. The Commissioners on both sides met. But after much dispute upon the Articles and Conditions of Peace, propounded upon either part, they could not conclude a Peace. The chief Impediments thereof was the demand of the King, to have Perkin delivered into his hands, as a reproach to all Kings, and a person not pro∣tected by the Law of Nations. The King of Scotland, on the other side, peremptorily denied so to do; saying, That he (for his part) was no competent Judge of Perkin's Title: But that he had re∣ceived him as a Suppliant, protected him as a person fled for Refuge, espoused him with his Kinswoman, and aided him with his Arms, upon the belief that he was a Prince; And therefore that he could

not now with his Honour so unrip, and (in a sort) put a Lye upon all that he had said and done before, as to deliver him up to his Enemies. The Bishop likewise (who had certain proud instructions from the King, at the least in the Front, though there were a pliant clause at the Foot, that remitted all to the Bishop's discretion, and required him by no means to break off in ill terms) after that he had failed to obtain the delivery of Perkin, did move a second point of his Instructions; which was, that the Scottish King would give the King an Enterview in Person at Newcastle. But this being reported to the Scottish King, his answer was, That he meant to treat a Peace, and not to go a begging for it. The Bishop also (according to another Article of his Instructions) demanded Restitution of the Spoils taken by the Scottish, or Damages for the same. But the Scottish Commissioners answered; That that was but as Water spilt upon the ground, which could not be gotten up again; and that the King's People were better able to bear the loss, than their Master to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it. But in the end (as persons capable of Reason) on both sides they made a kind of Recess, than a Breach of Treaty, and concluded upon a Truce for some Months following. But the King of Scotland, though he would not formally retract his judge∣ment of Perkin, wherein he had engaged himself so far; yet in his private opinion, upon often speech with the English-men, and divers other advertisements, began to suspect him for a Counterfeit. Wherefore in a Noble fashion he called him unto him, and re∣counted the benefits and favours that he had done him, in making him his Allie, and in provoking a Mighty and Opulent King by an Offensive War in his Quarrel, for the space of two years together. Nay more; that he had refused an Honourable Peace, whereof he had a fair Offer, if he would have delivered him; and that to keep his promise with him, he had deeply offended both his Nobles and People, whom he might not hold in any long discontent. And there∣fore required him to think of his own Fortunes, and to choose out some fitter place for his Exile: Telling him withal, that he could not say, but the English had forsaken him before the Scottish, for that upon two several Tryals, none had declared themselves on his side. But nevertheless he would make good what he said to him at his first receiving, which was, That he should not repent him, for putting himself into his hands; For that he would not cast him off, but help him with Shipping and means, to transport him where he should desire. Perkin, not descending at all from his Stage-like Greatness, answered the King in few words; That he saw his time was not yet come; But whatsoever his Fortunes were, he should both think and speak Honour of the King. Taking his leave, he would not think on Flanders, doubting it was but hollow ground for him, since the Treaty of the Arch-Duke concluded the year before; but took his Lady, and such followers as would not leave him, and sailed over into Ireland.

This Twelfth year of the King, a little before this time, Pope Alexander (who loved best those Princes that were furthest off, and with whom he had least to do) taking very thankfully the King's late entrance into League, for the defence of Italy, did re∣munerate him with an Hallowed Sword, and Cap-of-Maintenance sent by his Nuncio. Pope Innocent had done the like, but it was not received in that Glory. For the King appointed the Mayor and his Brethren to meet the Pope's Orator at London-Bridge, and all the Streets between the Bridge-foot and the Palace of St. Pauls (where the King then lay) were garnished with the Citizens, standing in their Liveries. And the morrow after (being All-hallows day) the King, attended with many of his Prelates, Nobles, and principal Courtiers, went in Procession to St. Pauls, and the Cap and Sword were born before him. And after the Procession, the King himself remaining seated in the Choir, the Lord Archbishop upon the greece of the Choir, made a long Oration, setting forth the greatness and Eminency of that Honour, which the Pope (in these Ornaments and Ensigns of Benediction) had done the King, and how rarely, and upon what high deserts they used to be bestowed. And then recited the Kings principal Acts and Merits, which had made him appear worthy in the eyes of his Holiness of this great Honour.

All this while the Rebellion of Cornwal (whereof we have spoken) seemed to have no relation to Perkin; save that perhaps Perkin's Proclamation had stricken upon the right Vein, in promising to lay down Exactions and Payments, and so had made them now and then have a kind thought on Perkin. But now these Bubbles by much stirring began to meet, as they use to do upon the top of Water. The King's lenity (by that time the Cornish Rebels, who were taken and pardoned, and (as it was said) many of them sold by them that had taken them, for twelve pence and two shillings a piece, were come down into their Countrey) had rather im∣boldened them, than reclaimed them: Insomuch, as they stuck not to say to their Neighbours and Countrey-men, that The King did well to pardon them, for that he knew he shouldl eave few Subjects in England, if he hanged all that were of their mind: And began whetting and inciting one another to renew the Commotion. Some of the subtilest of them, hearing of Perkin's being in Ireland, found means to send to him, to let him know, that if he would come over to them, they would serve him.

When Perkin heard this News, he began to take heart again, and advised upon it with his Council, which were principally three; Herne a Mercer, that had fled for Debt; Skelton a Taylor, and Astley a Scrivener: for Secretary Frion was gone. These told him, that he was mightily overseen, both when he went into Kent, and when he went into Scotland. The one being a place so near London, and under the King's Nose; and the other a Nation so distasted with the People of England, that if they had loved him

never so well, yet they could never have taken his part in that Company. But if he had been so happy, as to have been in Cornwal at the first, when the People began to take Arms there, he had been crowned at Westminster before this time. For, these Kings (as he had now experience) would sell poor Princes for shooes: But he must rely wholly upon People; and therefore advised him to sail over with all possible speed into Cornwal. Which, accordingly he did; having in his Company four small Barques, with some six score or seven score fighting men. He arrived in September at Whitsand-Bay; and forthwith came to Bodmin, the Black-smith's Town: Where there assembled unto him to the number of three thousand men of the rude People. There he set forth a new Pro∣clamation, stroaking the People with fair Promises, and humouring them with Invectives against the King and his Government. And; as it fareth with Smoak, that never loseth it self till it be at the highest; he did now before his end raise his Stile, intituling him∣self no more Richard, Duke of York; but Richard the Fourth, King of England. His Council advised him, by all means, to make him∣self Master of some good walled Town; as well to make his Men find the sweetness of rich Spoils, and to allure to him all loose and lost People; by like hopes of Booty; as to be a sure Retrait to his Forces, in case they should have any ill Day, or unlucky Chance in the Field. Wherefore they took heart to them, and went on, and besieged the City of Exceter, the principal Town for Strength and Wealth in those Parts.

When they were come before Exceter, they forbare to use any Force at the first; but made continual Shouts and Out-cries, to terrifie the Inhabitants. They did likewise in divers places call and talk to them from under the Walls, to joyn with them, and be of their Party; telling them, that the King would make them another London, if they would be the first Town that should ac∣knowledge him. But they had not the wit to send to them, in any orderly fashion, Agents, or chosen Men, to tempt them, and to treat with them. The Citizens on their part shewed them∣selves stout and loyal Subjects. Neither was there so much as any Tumult or Division amongst them: but all prepared themselves for a valiant Defence, and making good the Town. For, well they saw, that the Rebels were of no such Number or Power, that they needed to fear them as yet: and well they hoped, that before their Numbers increased, the King's Succours would come-in. And, howsoever, they thought it the extremest of Evils, to put them∣selves at the mercy of those hungry and disorderly People. Where∣fore, setting all things in good order within the Town, they nevertheless let down with Cords, from several parts of the Walls privily, several Messengers (that, if one came to mischance, another might pass-on) which should advertise the King of the State of the Town, and implore his ayd. Perkin also doubted, that Succours

would come ere long; and therefore resolved to use his utmost Force to assault the Town: And for that purpose, having mounted Scaling-Ladders in divers places upon the Walls, made at the same instant an Attempt to force one of the Gates. But, having no Artillery nor Engins, and finding that he could do no good by ramming with Logs of Timber, nor by the use of Iron Bars and Iron Crows, and such other means at hand, he had no way left him, but to set one of the Gates on fire: which he did. But the Citizens, well perceiving the Danger, before the Gate could be fully con∣sumed, blocked up the Gate, and some space about it on the inside, with Fagots and other Fuel: which they likewise set on fire, and so repulsed fire with fire; And, in the mean time, raised up Ram∣piers of earth, and cast up deep Trenches, to serve instead of Wall and Gate. And for the Escalada's, they had so bad success, as the Rebels were driven from the Walls, with the loss of two hundred men.

The King, when he heard of Perkin's Siege of Exceter, made sport with it, and said to them that were about him, that The King of Rake-hells was landed in the West, and that he hoped now to have the honour to see him, which he could never yet do. And it appeared plainly to those that were about the King, that he was indeed much joyed with the News of Perkin's being on English ground, where he could have no retreat by Land; thinking now, that he should be cured of those privy Stitches, which he had long had about his Heart, and had sometimes broken his Sleeps in the midst of all his felicity. And, to set all mens hearts on fire, he did by all possible means let it appear, that those, who should now do him service to make an end of these troubles, should be no less accepted of him, than he that came upon the Eleventh Hour, and had the whole Wages of the Day. Therefore now (like the end of a Play) a great num∣ber came upon the Stage at once. He sent the Lord Chamberlain, and the Lord Brook, and Sir Rice ap Thomas, with expedite Forces to speed to Exceter, to the Rescue of the Town, and to spread the Fame of his own following in Person with a Royal Army. The Earl of Devonshire, and his Son, with the Caroes, and the Fulfords, and other principal Persons of Devonshire (uncalled from the Court, but hearing that the King's heart was so much bent upon this Service) made haste with Troops, that they had raised, to be the first that should succour the City of Exceter, and prevent the King's Succours. The Duke of Buckingham likewise, with many brave Gentlemen, put themselves in Arms, not staying either the King's, or the Lord Chamberlain's coming on, but making a Body of Forces of themselves, the more to indear their merit, signifying to the King their readiness, and desiring to know his pleasure. So that according to the Proverb, In the coming down, every Saint did help.

Perkin, hearing this Thunder of Arms, and Preparations against him from so many Parts, raised his Siege, and marched

to Taunton; beginning already to squint one eye upon the Crown, and another upon the Sanctuary: Though the Cornish-men were become, like Metal often fired and quenched, churlish, and that would sooner break than bow; swearing and vowing not to leave him, till the uttermost drop of their blood were spilt. He was at his rising from Exceter between six and seven thousand strong, many having come unto him, after he was set before Exceter, upon fame of so great an Enterprize, and to partake of the Spoil; though upon the raising of his Siege, some did slip away. When he was come near Taunton, he dissembled all fear, and seemed all the day to use diligence in preparing all things ready to fight. But about midnight, he fled with threescore Horse to Bewley in the New-Forest, where he and divers of his Company registred them∣selves Sanctuary-men, leaving his Cornish-men to the Four Winds; But yet thereby easing them of their Vow, and using his wonted Compassion, Not to be by when his Subjects blood should be spilt. The King, as soon as he heard of Perkin's Flight, sent presently five hundred Horse to pursue and apprehend him, before he should get either to the Sea, or to that same little Island, called a Sanctuary. But they came too late for the latter of these. Therefore all they could do, was to beset the Sanctuary, and to maintain a strong Watch about it, till the King's pleasure were further known. As for the rest of the Rebels, they (being destituted of their head) with∣out stroke stricken, submitted themselves unto the King's Mercy. And the King, who commonly drew Blood (as Physicians do) rather to save life, than to spill it, and was never Cruel, when he was Secure; now he saw the danger was past, pardoned them all in the end, except some few desperate persons which he reserved to be Executed, the better to set off his Mercy towards the rest. There were also sent with all speed some Horse to St. Michael's-Mount in Cornwal, where the Lady Catherine Gordon was left by her Hus∣band, whom in all fortunes she entirely loved; adding the virtues of a Wife, to the virtues of her Sex. The King sent in the greater diligence, not knowing whether she might be with Child; where∣by the business would not have ended in Perkin's person. When she was brought to the King, it was commonly said, that the King received her not only with Compassion, but with Affection; Pity giving more Impression to her excellent Beauty. Wherefore com∣forting her (to serve as well his Eye as his Fame) he sent her to his Queen, to remain with her; giving her very honourable Al∣lowance for the suport of her Estate: which she enjoyed both during the King's life, and many years after. The name of the White-Rose (which had been given to her Husband's False-Title) was con∣tinued in common speech to her true Beauty.

The King went forward on his Journey, and made a joyful entrance into Exceter, where he gave the Citizens great com∣mendations and thanks; and taking the Sword he wore, from his

side, he gave it to the Mayor, and commanded it should be ever after carried before him. There also he caused to be executed some of the Ring-leaders of the Cornish-men, in sacrifice to the Citizens, whom they had put in fear, and trouble. At Exceter the King consulted with his Council, whether he should offer life to Perkin, if he would quit the Sanctuary, and voluntarily submit himself. The Council were divided in opinion. Some advised the King to take him out of Sanctuary per-force, and to put him to death, as in a case of Necessity, which in it self dispenseth with Consecrated Places and things. Wherein they doubted not also, but the King should find the Pope tractable to ratifie his Deed, either by Decla∣ration, or (at least) by Indulgence. Others were of opinion (since all was now safe, and no further hurt could be done) that it was not worth the exposing of the King to new Scandal and Envy. A third sort fell upon the opinion that it was not possible for the King ever, either to satisfie the World well touching the Imposture, or to learn out the bottom of the Conspiracy, except by promise of Life and Pardon, and other fair means, he should get Perkin into his hands. But they did all in their Preambles much bemoan the King's Case, with a kind of Indignation at his Fortune; That a Prince of his high Wisdom and Virtue, should have been so long, and so oft exercised and vexed with Idols. But the King said; that it was the Vexation of God Almighty himself, to be vexed with Idols, and therefore that that was not to trouble any of his Friends. And that for himself, he always despised them; but was grieved that they had put his People to such trouble and misery. But (in Concusion) he leaned to the third opinion, and so sent some to deal with Perkin. Who seeing himself Prisoner, and destitute of all hopes, having tryed Princes and People, Great and Small, and found all either false, faint or unfortunate, did gladly accept of the Condition. The King did also (while he was at Exceter) appoint the Lord Darcy, and others, Commissioners, for the fining of all such, as were of any value, or had any hand or partaking in the ayd or comfort of Per∣kin or the Cornish-men, either in the Field or in the Flight.

These Commissioners proceeded with such strictness and severity, as did much obscure the King's mercy in sparing of Blood, with the bleeding of so much Treasure. Perkin was brought unto the King's Court, but not to the King's presence; though the King (to satisfie his Curiosity) saw him sometimes out of a window, or in passage. He was in shew at liberty, but guarded with all care and watch that was possible, and willed to follow the King to London. But from his first appearance upon the Stage, in his new person of a Sycophant or Jugler, instead of his former person of a Prince, all men may think how he was exposed to the derision, not only of the Courtiers, but also of the Common-People who flocked about him as he went along; that one might know a-far-off, where the Owl was by the Flight of Birds. Some mocking, some wondering, some

cursing, some prying and picking matter out of his Countenance and Gesture, to talk of. So that the false Honour and Respects which he had so long enjoyed, was plentifully repayed in Scorn and Con∣tempt. As soon as he was come to London, the King gave also the City the solace of this May-Game. For he was conveyed leisurely on Horse-back (but not in any ignominious fashion) through Cheapside, and Cornwill, to the Tower; and from thence back again unto Westminster, with the Churm of a thousand taunts and re∣proaches. But to amend the Show, there followed a little distance of Perkin, an inward Counsellor of his, one that had been Serjeant∣Farrier to the King. This Fellow when Perkin took Sanctuary, chose rather to take an Holy Habit than an Holy Place, and clad him∣self like an Hermit, and in that weed wandred about the Countrey, till he was discovered, and taken. But this Man was bound hand and foot upon the Horse, and came not back with Perkin, but was left at the Tower, and within few days after Executed. Soon after, now that Perkin could tell better what himself was, he was diligently examined; and after his Confession taken, an Extract was made of such parts of them as were thought fit to be divulged, which was Printed and dispersed abroad. Wherein the King did himself no Right. For as there was a laboured Tale of particulars, of Perkin's Father, and Mother, and Grandsire, and Grandmother, and Uncles, and Cousins, by Names and Sirnames, and from what places he travelled up and down; so there was little or nothing to pur∣pose of any thing concerning his Designs, or any Practices that had been held with him; nor the Duchess of Burgundy her self (that all the World did take knowledge of, as the Person that had put Life and Being into the whole Business) so much as named or pointed at. So that men missing of that they looked for, looked about for they knew not what, and were in more doubt than before. But the King chose rather not to satisfie, than to kindle Coals. At that time also it did not appear by any new Examinations or Commitments, that any other Person of quality was discovered or appeached, though the King's closeness made that a Doubt∣Dormant.

About this time, a great Fire in the night time suddenly began at the King's Palace of Sheyn, near unto the King's own Lodgings, whereby a great part of the building was consumed, with much costly Houshold-stuff; which gave the King occasion of Building from the ground that fine Pile of Richmond, which is now standing.

Somewhat before this time also, there fell out a memorable Accident. There was one Sebastian Gabato, a Venetian, dwelling in Bristow, a man seen and expert in Cosmography and Navigation. This man seeing the success, and emulating perhaps the enter∣prize of Christopherus Columbus in that fortunate discovery towards the South-west, which had been by him made some six years before; conceited with himself, that Lands might likewise be discovered

towards the North-west. And surely it may be he had more firm and pregnant Conjectures of it, than Columbus had of this at the first. For the two great Islands of the Old and New World, being (in the shape and making of them) broad towards the North, and pointed towards the South; it is likely, that the discovery first began where the Lands did nearest meet. And there had been before that time a discovery of some Lands, which they took to be Islands, and were indeed the Continent of America, towards the North-west. And it may be, that some Relation of this nature coming after∣wards to the knowledge of Columbus, and by him suppressed, (desirous rather to make his Enterprize the Child of his Science and Fortune, than the Follower of a former Discovery) did give him better assurance that all was not Sea, from the West of Europe and Africk unto Asia, than either Seneca's Prophesie, or Plato's Anti∣quities, or the Nature of the Tides, and Land-winds, and the like, which were the Conjectures that were given out, whereupon he should have relyed. Though I am not ignorant, that it was likewise laid unto the casual and wind-beaten Discovery (a little before) of a Spanish Pilot, who dyed in the house of Columbus. But this Gabato bearing the King in hand, that he would find out an Island endued with rich Commodities, procured him to man and victual a Ship at Bristow, for the discovery of that Island; With whom ventured also three small Ships of London-Merchants, fraught with some gross and sleight Wares, fit for Commerce with barbarous people. He sayled (as he affirmed at his return, and made a Card thereof) very far Westwards, with a Quarter of the North, on the North-side of Tierra de Labrador, until he came to the Latitude of sixty seven Degrees and an half, finding the Seas still open. It is certain also, that the King's Fortune had a tender of that great Empire of the West-Indies. Neither was it a Refusal on the King's part, but a Delay by accident, that put by so great an Acquest. For Christopherus Columbus refused by the King of Por∣tugal (who would not embrace at once both East and West) em∣ployed his Brother Bartholomaus Columbus unto King Henry, to negotiate for his Discovery. And it so fortuned, that he was taken by Pirates at Sea, by which accidental impediment he was long ere he came to the King. So long, that before he had obtained a Capitulation with the King for his Brother; the Enterprize by him was atchieved, and so the West-Indies by Providence were then reserved for the Crown of Castilia. Yet this sharpened the King so, that not only in this Voyage, but again in the Sixteenth year of his Reign, and likewise in the Eighteenth thereof, he granted forth new Commissions, for the Discovery and investing of unknown Lands.

In this Fourteenth year also (by God's wonderful providence, that boweth things unto his will, and hangeth great Weights upon small Wires) there fell out a trifling and untoward Accident

that drew on great and happy effects. During the Truce with Scot∣land, there were certain Scottish young Gentleman, that came into Nor∣ham Town, and there made merry with some of the English of the Town. And having little to do, went sometimes forth, and would stand looking upon the Castle. Some of the Garrison of the Castle, observing this their doing twice or thrice, and having not their minds purged of the late ill blood of Hostility, either suspected them, or quarrelled them for Spies. Whereupon they fell at ill Words, and from Words to Blows; so that many were wounded of either side, and the Scottish-men (being strangers in the Town) had the worst. In so much as some of them were slain, and the rest made haste home. The matter being complained on, and often debated before the Wardens of the Marches of both sides, and no good order taken, the King of Scotland took it to himself, and being much kindled, sent a Herald to the King to make Prote∣station, That if Reparation were not done, according to the Conditions of the Truce, his King did denounce War. The King (who had often tryed Fortune, and was inclined to Peace) made answer; That what had been done, was utterly against his will, and without his Privity. But if the Garrison-Souldiers had been in fault, he would see them punished, and the Truce in all points to be preserved. But this answer seemed to the Scottish King but a delay, to make the complaint breathe out with time; and there∣fore it did rather exaspetare him, than satisfie him. Bishop Fox, understanding from the King, that the Scottish King was still discontent and impatient, being troubled that the occasion of breaking of the Truce should grow from his men, sent many humble and deprecatory Letters to the Scottish King to appease him. Where∣upon King James, mollified by the Bishop's submiss and eloquent Letters, wrote back unto him; That though he were in part moved by his Letters, yet he should not be fully satisfied, except he spake with him; as well about the compounding of the present diffe∣rences, as about other matters that might concern the good of both Kingdoms. The Bishop advising first with the King, took his Journey for Scotland. The meeting was at Metross, an Abbey of the Cestercians; where the King then abode. The King first roundly uttered unto the Bishop his offence conceived for the insolent Breach of Truce, by his men of Norham Castle. Whereunto Bishop Fox made such an humble and smooth answer, as it was like Oyl into the wound, whereby it began to heal. And this was done in the presence of the King and his Council. After, the King spake with the Bishop apart, and opened himself unto him, saying; That these temporary Truces and Peaces were soon made, and soon broken: But that he desired a straiter Amity with the King of England, discovering his mind; that if the King would give him in Marriage, the Lady Margaret, his eldest Daughter, That indeed might be a Knot indissoluble. That he knew well what Place

and Authority the Bishop deservedly had with his Master. There∣fore, if he would take the business to heart, and deal in it effe∣ctually, he doubted not but it would succeed well. The Bishop answered soberly, that he thought himself rather happy, than worthy, to be an instrument in such a matter; but would do his best endeavour. Wherefore the Bishop returning to the King, and giving account what had passed, and finding the King more than well disposed in it, gave the King advice; first to proceed to a Conclusion of Peace, and then to go on with the Treaty of Marriage, by degrees. Hereupon a Peace was concluded, which was published a little before Christmas in the Fourteenth year of the King's Reign to continue for both the Kings lives, and the over∣liver of them, and a year after. In this Peace there was an Article contained, that no English-man should enter into Scotland, and no Scottish-man into England, without Letters Commendatory from the Kings of either Nation. This at the first sight might seem a means to continue a strangeness between the Nations; but it was done, to lock in the Borderers.

This year there was also born to the King a third Son, who was christned by the name of Edmund, and shortly after dyed. And much about the same time came news of the death of Charles the French King; For whom there were celebrated Solemn and Princely Obsequies.

It was not long, but Perkin (who was made of Quick-silver, which is hard to hold or imprison) began to stir. For deceiving his Keepers, he took him to his heels, and made speed to the Sea∣coasts. But presently all Corners were laid for him, and such diligent pursuit and search made, as he was fain to turn back, and get him to the house of Bethleem, called the Priory of Shyne, (which had the priviledge of a Sanctuary) and put himself into the hands of the Prior of that Monastery. The Prior was thought an Holy Man, and much reverenced in those days. He came to the King, and besought the King for Perkin's life only, leaving him other∣wise to the Kings discretion. Many about the King were again more hot than ever, to have the King take him forth, and hang him. But the King (that had an high stomach, and could not hate any that he despised) bid, Take him forth, and set the Knave in the stocks. And so promising the Prior his life, he caused him to be brought forth. And within two or three days after, upon a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fold, set up in the Palace-Court at Westminster, he was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and set in the Stocks, for the whole day. And the next 〈◊〉〈◊〉 after, the like was done by him at the Cross in Cheapside 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in both places he read his Confession, of which we made 〈◊〉〈◊〉 before; and was from Cheapside conveyed and laid up 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Tower. Not∣withstanding all this, the King was (as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 partly touched before) grown to be such a Partner with 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as no body could tell what Actions the one, and what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 other owned. For it was

believed generally that Perkin was betrayed, and that this Escape was not without the King's privity, who had him all the time of his Flight in a Line; and that the King did this, to pick a Quarrel to him to put him to death, and to be rid of him at once. But this is not probable. For that the same Instruments who ob∣served him in his Flight, might have kept him from getting into Sanctuary.

But it was ordained, that this Winding-Ivy of a Plantagenet, should kill the true Tree it self. For Perkin, after he had been a while in the Tower, began to insinuate himself into the favour and kind∣ness of his Keepers, Servants to the Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir John Digby, being four in number; Strangways, Blewet, Astwood, and Long-Roger. These Varlets, with mountains of promises, he sought to corrupt, to obtain his Escape. But knowing well, that his own Fortunes were made so contemptible, as he could feed no man's Hopes (and by Hopes he must work, for Rewards he had none) he had contrived with himself a vast and tragical Plot, which was, to draw into his Company Edward Plantagenet Earl of War∣wick, then Prisoner in the Tower; whom the weary life of a long Imprisonment, and the often and renewing Fears of being put to Death, had softned to take any impression of counsel for his Li∣berty. This young Prince he thought these Servants would look upon, though not upon himself. And therefore after that by some Message by one or two of them, he had tasted of the Earl's consent; it was agreed that these four should murder their Master the Lieutenant, secretly in the night, and make their best of such Money and portable Goods of his, as they should find ready at hand, and get the Keys of the Tower, and presently let forth Perkin and the Earl. But this Conspiracy was revealed in time, before it could be executed. And in this again the Opinion of the King's great Wisdom did surcharge him with a sinister Fame, that Perkin was but his Bait, to entrap the Earl of Warwick. And in the very instant while this Conspiracy was in working (as if that also had been the King's industry) it was fatal, that there should break forth a counterfeit Earl of Warwick, a Cordwainer's Son, whose name was Ralph Wilford; a young man, taught and set on by an Augustin Frier, called Patrick. They both from the parts of Suffolk, came forwards into Kent, where they did not only privily and under∣hand give out, that this Wilford was the true Earl of Warwick; but also the Frier finding some light Credence in the People, took the boldness in the Pulpit to declare as much, and to incite the People to come in to his ayd. Whereupon they were both pre∣sently 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and the young fellow executed, and the Frier condemned 〈◊〉〈◊〉 perpetual Imprisonment. This also hapning so opportunely, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the danger to the King's Estate, from the Earl of Warwick, and thereby to colour the King's severity that followed, together 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the madness of the Frier, so vainly

and desperately to divulge a Treason, before it had gotten any manner of strength; and the saving of the Frier's life, which never∣theless was (indeed) but the priviledge of his Order; and the Pity in the common People (which if it run in a strong Stream, doth ever cast up Scandal and Envy) made it generally rather talked, than believed, that all was but the King's device. But howsoever it were, hereupon Perkin (that had offended against Grace now the third time) was at the last proceeded with, and by Commissio∣ners of Oyer and Determiner, arraigned at Westminster, upon divers Treasons committed and perpetrated after his coming on land within this Kingdom (for so the Judges advised, for that he was a Poreiner) and condemned, and a few days after executed at Tyburn. Where he did again openly read his Confession, and take it upon his Death to be true. This was the end of this little Cockatrice of a King, that was able to destroy those that did not espy him first. It was one of the longest Plays of that kind, that hath been in memory; and might perhaps have had another end, if he had not met with a King both wise, stout and fortunate.

As for Perkin's three Counsellors, they had registred themselves Sanctuary-men when their Master did. And whether upon Pardon obtained, or continuance within the Priviledge, they came not to be proceeded with.

There was executed with Perkin the Mayor of Cork, and his Son, who had been principal Abettors of his Treasons. And soon after were likewise condemned eight other Persons, about the Tower∣Conspiracy, whereof four were the Lieutenant's men. But of those eight but two were executed. And immediately after was ar∣raigned before the Earl of Oxford (then for the time High-Steward of England) the poor Prince the Earl of Warwick; not for the Attempt to escape simply (for that was not acted; And besides, the Imprisonment not being for Treason, the Escape by Law could not be Treason) but for conspiring with Perkin to raise sedition, and to destroy the King. And the Earl confessing the Indictment had Judgment, and was shortly after beheaded on Tower-hill.

This was also the end not only of this Noble and Commiserable person Edward the Earl of Warwick, eldest Son to the Duke of Clarence, but likewise of the Line-Male of the Plantagenets, which had flourished in great Royalty and Renown, from the time of the famous King of England King Henry the Second. Howbeit it was a Race often dipped in their own Blood. It hath remained since only transplanted into other Names, as well of the Imperial-Line, as of other Noble Houses. But it was neither guilt of Crime, nor reason of Estate, that could quench the Envy that was upon the King for this Execution. So that he thought good to export it out of the Land, and to lay it upon his new 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ferdinando King of Spain. For these two Kings understanding one another at half a word, so it was, that there were Letters shewed out of Spain,

whereby in the passages concerning the Treaty of the Marriage, Ferdinando had written to the King in plain terms, that he saw no assurance of his Succession, as long as the Earl of Warwick lived; and that he was loth to send his Daughter to Troubles and Dangers. But hereby, as the King did in some part remove the Envy from himself; so he did not observe, that he did withal bring a kind of Malediction and Infausting upon the Marriage, as an ill Pro∣gnostick. Which in event so far proved true, as both Prince Arthur enjoyed a very small time after the Marriage, and the Lady Kathe∣rine, her self (a sad and a religious woman) long after, when King Henry the Eighth his resolution of a Divorce from her was first made known to her, used some words; That she had not offended: but it was a Judgment of God, for that her former Marriage was made in blood; meaning that of the Earl of Warwick.

This Fifteenth year of the King there was a great Plague, both in London, and in divers parts of the Kingdom. Wherefore the King after often change of Places (whether to avoid the danger of the Sickness, or to give occasion of an Enterview with the Arch∣Duke, or both) sayled over with his Queen to Calice. Upon his coming thither, the Arch-Duke sent an honourable Ambassage unto him, as well to welcom him into those parts, as to let him know, that (if it pleased him) he would come and do him reve∣rence. But it was said withal; That the King might be pleased to appoint some place, that were out of any Walled Town or Fortress, for that he had denied the same upon like occasion to the French King. And though he said, he made a great difference between the two Kings, yet he would be loth to give a President, that might make it after to be expected at his hands, by another whom he trusted less. The King accepted of the Courtesie, and ad∣mitted of his Excuse, and appointed the place to be at St. Peter's Church without Calice. But withal he did visit the Arch-Duke with Ambassadors sent from himself, which were the Lord Saint∣John, and the Secretary; unto whom the Arch-Duke did the honour, as (going to Mass at St. Omers) to set the Lord Saint-John on his right hand, and the Secretary on his left, and so to ride between them to Church. The day appointed for the Enterview, the King went on Horse-back some distance from St. Peter's Church, to receive the Arch-Duke. And upon their approaching, the Arch∣Duke made hast to light, and offered to hold the King's Stirrop at his alighting; which the King would not permit, but de∣scending from Horse-back, they embraced with great affection, and withdrawing into the Church to a place prepared, they had long Conference, not only upon the Confirmation of former Treaties, and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Commerce, but upon Cross Marriages, to be had between the Duke of York the King's second Son, and the Arch-Duke's Daughter, And again between Charles the Arch∣Dukes Son and Heir, and Mary the King's second Daughter. But

these Blossoms of unripe Marriages, were but friendly wishes, and the Airs of loving Entertainment; though one of them came afterwards to Conclusion in Treaty, though not in Effect. But during the time that the two Princes conversed and commoned together in the Suburbs of Calice, the Demonstrations on both sides were passing hearty and affectionate, especially on the part of the Arch-Duke. Who (besides that he was a Prince of an excellent good nature) being conscious to himself, how drily the King had been used by his Council in the matter of Perkin, did strive by all means to recover it in the King's affection. And having also his ears continually beaten with the Counsels of his Father and Father∣in-law, who (in respect of their jealous hatred against the French King) did always advise the Arch-Duke to anchor himself upon the Amity of King Henry of England; was glad upon this occasion, to put in ure and practice their precepts, calling the King Patron, and Father, and Protector, (these very words the King repeats; when he certified of the loving behaviour of the Arch-Duke to the City) and what else he could devise, to express his love and observance to the King. There came also to the King the Go∣vernour of Picardy, and the Bailiff of Amiens, sent from Lewis the French King to do him honour, and to give him knowledge of his victory and winning of the Duchy of Millan. It seemeth the King was well pleased with the honours he received from those parts, while he was at Calice. For he did himself certifie all the News and Occurrents of them in every particular, from Calice, to the Mayor and Aldermen of London, which (no doubt) made no small talk in the City. For the King, though he could not enter∣tain the good will of the Citizens, as Edward the Fourth did; yet by affability and other Princely Graces, did ever make very much of them, and apply himself to them.

This year also dyed John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury, Chancellor of England, and Cardinal. He was a wise man, and an eloquent, but in his nature harsh, and haughty; much accepted by the King, but envied by the Nobility, and hated of the People. Neither was his name left out of Perkin's Proclamation for any good will, but they would not bring him in amongst the King's Casting-Counters, because he had the Image and Superscription upon him of the Pope, in his Honour of Cardinal. He wan the King with Secrecy and Diligence, but chiefly because he was his old Ser∣vant in his less Fortunes: And also for that (in his affections) he was not without an inveterate malice against the House of York, under whom he had been in trouble. He was willing also to take Envy from the King, more than the King was willing to put upon him. For the King cared not for Subterfuges, but would stand Envy, and appear in any thing that was to his mind; which made Envy still grow upon him more universal, but less daring. But in the matter of Exactions, time did after shew, that the Bishop in

feeding the King's humour, did rather temper it. He had been by Richard the Third committed (as in custody) to the Duke of Buckingham, whom he did secretly incite to revolt from King Ri∣chard. But after the Duke was engaged, and thought the Bishop should have been his chief Pilot in the Tempest, the Bishop was gotten into the Cock-boat, and fled over beyond Seas. But whatso∣ever else was in the Man, he deserveth a most happy Memory, in that he was the principal Mean of joyning the two Roses. He dyed of great years, but of strong health and Powers.

The next year, which was the Sixteenth year of the King, and the year of our Lord One thousand five hundred, was the year of Jubile at Rome. But Pope Alexander, to save the Hazard and Charges of mens Journeys to Rome, thought good to make over those Graces by exchange, to such as would pay a convenient Rate, seeing they could not come to fetch them. For which purpose was sent into England Jasper Pons, a Spaniard, the Pope's Commissio∣ner, better chosen than were the Commissioners of Pope Leo, after∣wards employed for Germany; for he carried the Business with great wisdom, and semblance of Holiness. In so much as he levied great summs of Money within this Land to the Pope's use, with little or no Scandal. It was thought the King shared in the Money. But it appeareth by a Letter which Cardinal Adrian, the King's Pen∣sioner, wrote to the King from Rome some few years after, that this was not so. For this Cardinal, being to perswade Pope Julius on the King's behalf, to expedite the Bull of Dispensation for the Mar∣riage between Prince Henry and the Lady Katherine, finding the Pope difficil in granting thereof, doth use it as a principal Ar∣gument concerning the King's merit toward that See, that he had touched none of those Deniers, which had been levied by Pons in England. But that it might the better appear (for the satisfaction of the Common people) that this was Consecrate Money, the same Nuncio brought unto the King a Brief from the Pope, wherein the King was exhorted and summoned to come in Person against the Turk. For that the Pope (out of the care of an Universal Father) seeing almost under his eyes the Successes and Progresses of that great Enemy of the Faith, had had in the Conclave, and with the Assistance of the Ambassadors of forein Princes, divers Consultations about an Holy War, and a General Expedition of Christian Princes against the Turk. Wherein it was agreed, and thought fit, that the Hungarians, Polonians, and Bobemians should make a War upon Thracia; the French and Spaniards upon Gracia; and that the Pope (willing to sacrifice himself in so good a Cause) in Person and in Company of the King of England, the Venetians, and such other States as were great in maritim Power, would sail with a puissant Navy through the Mediterrane unto Constantinople. And that to this end, his Holiness had sent Nuncio's to all Christian Princes; As well for a Cessation of all Quarrels and Differences

amongst themselves, as for speedy Preparations and Contributions of Forces and Treasure for this Sacred Enterprize.

To this the King, (who understood well the Court of Rome) made an Answer rather Solemn, than Serious: Signifying;

THat no Prince on Earth should be more forward and obedient, both by his Person, and by all his possible Forces, and Fortunes, to enter into this Sacred War, than himself. But that the distance of Place was such, as no Forces that he should raise for the Seas, could be levied or prepared, but with double the charge, and double the time (at the least) that they might be from the other Princes, that had their Territories nearer adjoyning. Besides, that neither the manner of his Ships (having no Galleys) nor the Experience of his Pilots and Mariners could be so apt for those Seas, as theirs. And therefore that his Holiness might do well, to move one of those other Kings, who lay fitter for the purpose, to accompany him by Sea. Whereby both all things would be sooner put in readiness, and with less Charge, and the Emu∣lation and Division of Command, which might grow between those Kings of France and Spain, if they should both joyn in the War by Land upon Grecia, might be wisely avoided. And that for his part, he would not be wanting in Ayds and Contribution. Yet notwith∣standing, if both these Kings should refuse, rather than his Holiness should go alone, he would wait upon him, as soon as he could be ready. Always provided, that he might first see all Differences of the Christian Princes amongst themselves, fully laid down and appeased (as for his own part he was in none.) And that he might have some good Towns upon the Coast in Italy put into his hands, for the Retrait and safeguard of his Men.

With this Answer Jasper Pons returned, nothing at all discon∣tented. And yet this Declaration of the King (as superficial as it was) gave him that Reputation abroad, as he was not long after elected by the Knights of the Rhodes, Protector of their Order; All things multiplying to Honour in a Prince, that had gotten such high Estimation for his Wisdom and Sufficiency.

There were these two last years some proceedings against He∣reticks, which was rare in this King's Reign, and rather by Penances, than by Fire. The King had (though he were no good School-man) the Honour to convert one of them by Dispute at Canterbury.

This year also, though the King were no more haunted with Sprites, for that by the sprinkling, partly of Blood, and partly of Water, he had chased them away; yet nevertheless he had certain Apparitions that troubled him, still shewing themselves from one Region, which was the House of-York. It came so to pass, that the Earl of Suffolk, Son to Elizabeth, eldest Sister to King Edward the Fourth, by John Duke of Suffolk, her second Husband, and

Brother to John Earl of Lincoln, that was slain at Stockfield, being of an hasty and Cholerick disposition, had killed a man in his fury; whereupon the King gave him his Pardon. But either willing to leave a Cloud upon him, or the better to make him feel his Grace, produced him openly to plead his Pardon. This wrought in the Earl, as in a haughty stomack it useth to do; for the Ignominy printed deeper than the Grace. Wherefore he being dis∣content, fled secretly into Flanders, unto his Aunt the Duchess of Burgundy. The King startled at it. But being taught by Trou∣bles, to use fair and timely Remedies, wrought so with him by Messages, (the Lady Margaret also growing by often failing in her Alchymy, weary of her Experiments, and partly being a little sweetned, for that the King had not touched her name in the Confession of Perkin) that he came over again upon good terms, and was reconciled to the King.

In the beginning of the next year, being the Seventeenth of the King, the Lady Katherine fourth Daughter of Ferdinando and Isabella, King and Queen of Spain, arrived in England, at Plimouth, the second of October, and was married to Prince Arthur in Pauls the fourteenth of November following. The Prince being then about fifteen years of age, and the Lady about eighteen. The manner of her Receiving, the manner of her Entry into London, and the Celebrity of the Marriage were performed with great and true Magnificence, in regard of Cost, Shew, and Order. The chief man that took the care was Bishop Fox; who was not only a grave Counsellor for War or Peace, but also a good Surveyor of Works, and a good Master of Ceremonies, and any thing else that was fit for the Active part, belonging to the service of Court, or State of a great King. This Marriage was almost seven years in Treaty; which was in part caused by the tender years of the Marriage-couple, especially of the Prince. But the true reason was, that these two Princes, being Princes of great Policy and profound Judgment, stood a great time looking one upon another's Fortunes, how they would go, knowing well that in the mean time, the very Treaty it self gave abroad in the World a Reputation of a strait Conjunction and Amity between them; which served on both sides to many purposes, that their several Affairs required, and yet they continued still free. But in the end, when the For∣tunes of both the Princes did grow every day more and more pro∣sperous and assured, and that looking all about them they saw no better Conditions, they shut it up.

The Marriage-Money the Princess brought (which was turned over to the King by Act of Renunciation) was two hundred thou∣sand Ducats. Whereof one hundred thousand were payable ten days after the Solemnization, and the other hundred thousand at two payments Annual; but part of it to be in Jewels and Plate, and a due course set down to have them justly and indifferently

prized. The Joynture or Advancement of the Lady, was the third part of the Principality of Wales, and of the Dukedom of Cornwal, and of the Earldom of Chester, to be after set forth in severalty. And in case she came to be Queen of England, her Advancement was left indefinite, but thus; That it should be as great, as ever any former Queen of England had.

In all the Devices and Conceits of the Triumphs of this Marriage, there was a great deal of Astronomy. The Lady being resembled to Hesperus, and the Prince to Arcturus, and the old King Alphonsus (that was the greatest Astronomer of Kings, and was Ancestor to the Lady) was brought in to be the Fortune-celler of the Match. And whosoever had those Toys in Compiling, they were not altogether Pedantical. But you may be sure that King Arthur, the Briton, and the descent of the Lady Katherine from the House of Lancaster, was in no wise forgotten. But (as it should seem) it is not good to fetch Fortunes from the Stars. For this young Prince (that drew upon him at that time, not only the Hopes and Affections of his Countrey, but the Eyes and Expectation of Foreiners) after a few Months, in the beginning of April, deceased at Ludlow-Castle, where he was sent to keep his Resiance and Court, as Prince of Wales. Of this Prince, in respect he dyed so young, and by reason of his Father's manner of Education, that did cast no great Lustre upon his Children, there is little particular Memory. Only thus much remaineth, that he was very studious and learned, beyond his years, and beyond the Custom of great Princes.

There was a doubt ripped up in the times following, when the Divorce of King Henry the Eighth from the Lady Katherine did so much busie the world, whether Arthur was bedded with his Lady or no, whereby that matter in fact (of Carnal Knowledge) might be part of the Case. And it is true, that the Lady her self denyed it, or at least her Council stood upon it, and would not blanch that Advantage, although the plenitude of the Pope's power of Dis∣pensing was the main Question. And this Doubt was kept long open, in respect of the two Queens that succeeded, Mary and Elizabeth, whose Legitimations were incompatible one with ano∣ther, though their Succession was setled by Act of Parliament. And the Times that favoured Queen Maries Legitimation, would have it believed, that there was no Carnal Knowledge between Arthur and Katherine. Not that they would seem to derogate from the Pope's absolute power, to dispense even in that Case; but only in point of Honour, and to make the Case more favourable and smooth. And the Times that favoured Queen Elizabeths Legiti∣mation (which were the longer, and the later) maintained the contrary. So much there remaineth in Memory, that it was half a years time between the Creation of Henry Prince of Wales, and Prince Arthur's death; which was construed to be, for to expect a full time, whereby it might appear, whether the Lady Katherine

were with Child by Prince Arthur, or no. Again, the Lady her self procured a Bull, for the better Corroboration of the Marriage, with a Clause of (vel forsan cognitam) which was not in the first Bull. There was given in Evidence also, when the cause of the Divorce was handled, a pleasant passage, which was; That in a Morning Prince Arthur, upon his up-rising from Bed with her, called for drink, which he was not accustomed to do, and finding the Gentleman of his Chamber that brought him the drink to smile at it and to note it, he said merrily to him, That he had been in the midst of Spain, which was an hot Region, and his Journey had made him dry, and that if the other had been in so hot a Clime, he would have been dryer than he. Besides, the Prince was upon the point of Sixteen years of Age when he dyed, and forward, and able in Body.

The February following, Henry Duke of York was created Prince of Wales, and Earl of Chester and Flint. For the Dukedom of Cornwal devolved to him by Statute. The King also being fast∣handed, and loth to part with a second Dowry, but chiefly being affectionate both by his Nature, and out of Politick Considerations to continue the Alliance with Spain, prevailed with the Prince (though not without some Reluctation, such as could be in those years, for he was not twelve years of Age) to be contracted with the Princess Katherine. The secret Providence of God or∣daining that Marriage, to be the Occasion of great Events and Changes.

The same year were the Espousals of James King of Scotland, with the Lady Margaret, the King's eldest Daughter, which was done by Proxy, and published at Paul's Cross, the five and twen∣tieth of January, and Te Deum solemnly sung. But certain it is, that the Joy of the City thereupon shewed, by Ringing of Bells, and Bon-fires, and such other Incense of the People, was more than could be expected, in a Case of so great and fresh Enmity between the Nations; especially in London, which was far enough off from feeling any of the former calamities of the War. And therefore might be truly attributed to a Secret Instinct and Inspiring (which many times runneth not only in the Hearts of Princes, but in the Pulse and Veins of People) touching the happiness thereby to ensue in time to come. This Marriage was in August following con∣summate at Edenburgh. The King bringing his Daughter as far as Colly-Weston on the way, and then consigning her to the Attendance of the Earl of Northumberland; who with a great Troop of Lords and Ladies of Honour, brought her into Scotland, to the King her Husband.

This Marriage had been in Treaty by the space of almost three years, from the time that the King of Scotland did first open his mind to Bishop Fox. The Summ given in Marriage by the King, was ten thousand Pounds. And the Joynture and Advancement

assured by the King of Scotland, was two thousand Pounds a year, after King James his Death, and one thousand Pounds a year in present, for the Ladys Allowance or Maintenance. This to be set forth in Lands, of the best and most certain Revenue. During the Treaty, it is reported, that the King remitted the matter to his Council; And that some of the Table in the Freedom of Counsellors (the King being present) did put the Case; that if God should take the King's two Sons without Issue, that then the Kingdom of England would fall to the King of Scotland, which might pre∣judice the Monarchy of England. Whereunto the King himself replied; That if that should be, Scotland would be but an Ac∣cession to England, and not England to Scotland, for that the greater would draw the less: And that it was a safer Union for England, than that of France. This passed as an Oracle, and silenced those that moved the Question.

The same year was fatal, as well for Deaths, as Marriages, and that with equal temper. For the Joys and Feasts of the two Mar∣riages, were compensed with the Mournings, and Funerals of Prince Arthur (of whom we have spoken) and of Queen Elizabeth, who dyed in Child-bed in the Tower, and the Child lived not long after. There dyed also that year Sir Reginold Bray, who was noted to have had with the King the greatest Freedom of any Counsellor; but it was but a Freedom, the better to set off Flattery. Yet he bare more than his just part of Envy, for the Exactions.

At this time the King's Estate was very prosperous, secured by the Amity of Scotland, strengthned by that of Spain, cherished by that of Burgundy, all Domestick Troubles quenched, and all Noise of War (like a Thunder a-far-off) going upon Italy. Where∣fore Nuture, which many times is happily contained, and re∣frained by some Bands of Fortune, began to take place in the King; carrying (as with a strong Tide) his Affections and Thoughts unto the gathering and heaping up of Treasure. And as Kings do more easily find Instruments for their Will and Humour, than for their Service and Honour; He had gotten for his purpose, or beyond his purpose, two Instruments, Empson and Dudley, (whom the people esteemed as his Horse-Leeches and Shearers) bold men, and careless of Fame, and that took Toll of their Master's Grist. Dudley was of a good Family, Eloquent, and one that could put Hateful Business into good Language. But Empson, that was the Son of a Sieve-maker, triumphed always upon the Deed done, putting off all other re∣spects whatsoever. These two Persons being Lawyers in Science, and Privy Counsellors in Authority (as the corruption of the best things is the worst) turned Law and Justice into Wormwood and Rapine. For first, their manner was to cause divers Subjects to be indicted of sundry Crimes, and so far forth to proceed in form of Law; But when the Bills were found, then presently to commit them. And nevertheless not to produce them to any reasonable time to their

Answer, but to suffer them to languish long in Prison; and by sundry artificial Devices and Terrours, to extort from them great Fines and Ransoms, which they termed Compositions and Mitigations.

Neither did they (towards the end) observe so much as the Half∣face of Justice, in proceeding by Indictment; but sent forth their Precepts to attach men, and convent them before themselves and some others, at their private Houses, in a Court of Commission, and there used to shuffle up a Summary Proceeding, by Examination, without tryal of Jury; assuming to themselves there, to deal both in Pleas of the Crown, and Controversies Civil.

Then did they also use to enthral and charge the Subjects Lands with Tenures in Capite, by finding False Offices, and thereby to work upon them for Wardships, Liveries, Primier Seisins, and Alienations, (being the fruits of those Tenures) refusing upon divers Pretexts and Delays, to admit men to traverse those False Offices, according to the Law. Nay, the King's Wards after they had accomplished their full Age, could not be suffered to have Livery of their Lands, without paying excessive Fines, far exceeding all reasonable Rates. They did also vex men with Informations of Intrusion upon scarce colourable Titles.

When men were Out-lawed in Personal Actions they would not permit them to purchase their Charters of Pardon, except they paid great and intolerable, summs; standing upon the strict Point of Law, which upon Out-lawries giveth Forfeiture of Goods. Nay, contrary to all Law and Colour, they maintained, the King ought to have the half of mens Lands and Rents, during the space of full two years, for a Pain in Case of Out-lawry. They would also ruffle with Jurors, and enforce them to find as they would direct, and (if they did not) Convent them, Imprison them, and Fine them.

These and many other Courses, fitter to be buried than re∣peated, they had of Preying upon the People; both like Tame Hawks for their Master, and like Wild Hawks for themselves; in so much as they grew to great Riches and Substance. But their principal working was upon Penal Laws, wherein they spared none, great nor small; nor considered whether the Law were possible, or im∣possible, in Use or Obsolete. But raked over all old and new Sta∣tutes, though many of them were made with intention rather of Terrour, than of Rigour; having ever a Rabble of Promoters, Quest∣mongers, and leading Jurors at their Command, so as they could have any thing found either for Fact, or Valuation.

There remaineth to this day a Report, that the King was on a time entertained by the Earl of Oxford (that was his principal Servant, both for War and Peace) nobly and sumptuously, at his Castle at Henningham. And at the King's going away, the Earl's Servants stood (in a seemly manner) in their Livery-Coats, with Cognisances, ranged on both sides, and made the King a 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The

King called the Earl to him, and said; My Lord, I have heard much of your Hospitality, but I see it is greater than the speech. These handsom Gentlemen and Yeomen, which I see on both sides of me, are sure your Menial Servants. The Earl smiled, and said, It may please your Grace, that were not for mine ease. They are most of them my Retainers, they are come to do me service at such a time as this, and chiefly to see your Grace. The King started a little, and said; By my faith (my Lord) I thank you for my good Cheer, but I may not en∣dure to have my Laws broken in my sight. My Attorney must speak with you. And it is part of the Report, that the Earl compounded for no less than fifteen thousand Marks. And to shew further the Kings extreme Diligence; I do remember to have seen long since a Book of Accompt of Empson's, that had the King's hand almost to every Leaf, by way of Signing, and was in some places Postilled in the Margin, with the King's hand likewise, where was this Remembrance:

Item, Received of such a one, five Marks for the Pardon to be procured; and if the Pardon do not pass, the Money to be re-paid, except the party be some other-ways satisfied.

And over against this Memorandum (of the King's own hand) Otherwise satisfied.

Which I do the rather mention, because it shews in the King a Nearness, but yet with a kind of Justness. So these little Sands and Grains of Gold and Silver (as it seemeth) helped not a little to make up the great Heap and Bank.

But mean while (to keep the King awake) the Earl of Suffolk having been too gay at Prince Arthur's Marriage, and sunk him∣self deep in Debt, had yet once more a mind to be a Knight-Errant; and to seek Adventures in Forein parts. And taking his Brother with him, fled again into Flanders. That (no doubt) which gave him Confidence, was the great Murmur of the People against the King's Government. And being a Man of a light and rash Spirit, he thought every Vapour would be a Tempest. Neither wanted he some Party within the Kingdom. For the Murmur of People awakes the Discontents of Nobles; and again, that calleth up commonly some Head of Sedition. The King resorting to his wonted and tryed Arts, caused Sir Robert Curson, Captain of the Castle at Hammes (being at that time beyond Sea, and therefore less likely to be wrought upon by the King) to flie from his Charge, and to feign himself a servant of the Earl's. This Knight, having insinuated himself into the Secrets of the Earl, and finding by him upon whom chiefly he had either Hope or Hold, advertised the King thereof in great secrecy. But nevertheless maintained his own Credit and inward trust with the Earl. Upon whose Advertise∣ments,

the King attached William Courtney, Earl of Devonshire, his Brother-in-Law, married to the Lady Katherine, Daughter to King Edward the Fourth; William de la Pole, Brother to the Earl of Suffolk; Sir James Tirrel, and Sir John Windham, and some other meaner Persons, and committed them to Custody. George, Lord Abergaveny, and Sir Thomas Green, were at the same time appre∣hended; but as upon less Suspition, so in a freer Restraint, and were soon after delivered. The Earl of Devonshire, being interessed in the blood of York, that was rather Feared than Nocent; yet as One, that might be the Object of others Plots and Designs, remained Prisoner in the Tower, during the King's life. William de la Pole, was also long restrained, though not so straitly. But for Sir James Tirrel (against whom the Blood of the Innocent Princes, Edward the Fifth, and his Brother did still cry from under the Altar) and Sir John Windham, and the other meaner ones, they were attainted and executed; the two Knights beheaded. Nevertheless, to confirm the Credit of Curson (who belike had not yet done all his Feats of Activity) there was published at Paul's Cross, about the time of the said Executions, the Pope's Bull of Excommunication and Curse, against the Earl of Suffolk, and Sir Robert Curson, and some others by name, and likewise in general against all the Abettors of the said Earl. Wherein it must be confessed, that Heaven was made too much to bow to Earth, and Religion to Policy. But soon after, Curson (when he saw time) returned into England, and withal into wonted Favour with the King, but worse Fame with the People. Upon whose return the Earl was much dismayed, and seeing himself destitute of hopes (the Lady Margaret also by tract of Time, and bad Success, being now be∣com cool in those attempts) after some wandering in France, and Germany, and certain little Projects, no better than Squibs of an Exiled man, being tired out, retired again into the Protection of the Arch-Duke Philip in Flanders, who by the death of Isabella was at that time King of Castile, in the right of Joan his Wife.

This year (being the Nineteenth of his Reign) the King called his Parliament. Wherein a man may easily guess, how absolute the King took himself to be with his Parliament, when Dudley that was so hateful, was made Speaker of the House of Commons. In this Parliament, there were not made any Statutes memorable, touching publick Government. But those that were, had still the Stamp of the King's Wisdom and Policy.

There was a Statute made for the disannulling of all Patents of Lease, or Grant, to such as came not upon lawful Summons, to serve the King in his Wars, against the Enemies or Rebels, or that should depart without the King's licence; With an exception of certain Persons of the Long-robe. Providing nevertheless, That they should have the King's Wages, from their House, till their return home again. There had been the like made before for Offices, and by

this Statute it was extended to Lands. But a man may easily see by many Statutes made in this King's time, that the King thought it safest, to assist Martial Law by Law of Parliament.

Another Statute was made, prohibiting the bringing in of Ma∣nufactures of Silk wrought by it self, or mixt with any other Thred. But it was not of Stuffs of whole piece (for that the Realm had of them no Manufacture in use at that time) but of Knit-Silk, or Texture of Silk; as Ribands, Laces, Cawls, Points, and Girdles, &c. which the people of England could then well skill to make. This Law pointed at a true Principle; That where forein materials are but Superfluities, forein Manufactures should be prohibited. For that will either banish the Superfluity, or gain the Manufacture.

There was a Law also of Resumption of Patents of Gaols, and the Reannexing of them to the Sherifwicks; Priviledged Officers being no less an Interruption of Justice, than Priviledged Places.

There was likewise a Law to restrain the By-laws or Ordinances of Corporations, which many times were against the Prerogative of the King, the Common-law of the Realm, and the Liberty of the Subject, being Fraternities in Evil. It was therefore Provided, that they should not be put in Execution, without the Allowance of the Chancellor, Treasurer, and the two Chief-Justices, or three of them, or of the two Justices of Circuit where the Corporation was.

Another Law was (in effect) to bring in the Silver of the Realm to the Mint, in making all clipped, minished, or impaired Coins of Silver, not to be currant in payments, without giving any Re∣medy of weight, but with an exception only of a reasonable wearing, which was as nothing in respect of the incertainty; and so (upon the matter) to set the Mint on work, and give way to New Coins of Silver, which should be then minted.

There likewise was a long Statute against Vagabonds, wherein two things may be noted; The one, the Dislike the Parliament had of Gaoling of them, as that which was chargeable, pesterous, and of no open Example. The other, that in the Statutes of this King's time, (for this of the Nineteenth year is not the only Statute of that kind) there are ever coupled, the punishment of Vagabonds, and the forbidding of Dice, and Cards, and unlawful Games unto Servants and mean people, and the putting down and suppressing of Ale-houses, as Strings of one Root together, and as if the One were unprofitable, without the Other.

As for Riot and Retainers, there passed scarce any Parliament in this time without a Law against them, the King ever having an Eye to Might, and Multitude.

There was granted also that Parliament a Subsidy, both for the Temporalty and the Clergy. And yet nevertheless, ere the year expired, there went out Commissions for a general Benevolence, though there were no Wars, no Fears. The same year the City gave five thousand Marks, for Confirmation of their Liberties; A thing fitter for the

Beginnings of King's Reigns, than the latter Ends. Neither was it a small matter, that the Mint gained upon the late Statute, by the Recoinage of Groats, and Half-Groats, now Twelve-pences and Six∣pences. As for Empson and Dudley's Mills, they did grind more than ever. So that it was a strange thing, to see what Golden Showrs poured down upon the King's Treasury at once. The last pay∣ments of the Marriage-Money from Spain; The Subsidy; The Benevolence; The Recoinage; The Redemption of the Cities Liberties; The Casualties. And this is the more to be marvelled at, because the King had then no Occasions at all of Wars or Troubles. He had now but one Son and one Daughter unbestowed. He was Wise; He was of an High Mind; He needed not to make Riches his Glory. He did excel in so many things else; save that certainly Avarice doth ever find in it self matter of Ambition. Belike he thought to leave his Son such a Kingdom, and such a Mass of Treasure; as he might choose his Greatness where he would.

This year was also kept the Serjeants 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which was the second Call in this Kings Days.

About this time Isabella, Queen of Castile, deceased; a right Noble Lady, and an Honour to her Sex, and Times, and the Corner-stone of the Greatness of Spain, that hath followed. This Accident the King took not for News at large, but thought it had a great Relation to his own Affairs; especially in two points: The one for Example; the other for Consequence. First, he conceived that the Case of Ferdinando of Arragon, after the death of Queen Isabella, was his own Case, after the death of his own Queen: and the Case of Joan the Heir unto Castile, was the Case of his own Son Prince Henry. For if both of the Kings had their King∣doms in the right of their Wives, they descended to the Heirs, and did not accrew to the Husbands. And although his own Case had both Steel and Parchment, more than the other (that is to say, a Conquest in the Field, and an Act of Parliament) yet, notwith∣standing, that Natural Title of Descent in Blood, did (in the imagination even of a wise man) breed a Doubt, that the other two were not safe nor sufficient. Wherefore he was wonderful diligent to enquire and observe what became of the King of Arra∣gon, in holding and continuing the Kingdom of Castile. And whether he did hold it in his own Right, or as Administrator to his Daughter; and whether he were like to hold it in Fast, or to be put out by his Son-in-Law. Secondly, he did revolve in his mind, that the State of Christendom might by this late Accident have a turn. For whereas before-time himself, with the Conjunction of Ar∣ragon and Castile (which then was one) and the Amity of Maxi∣milian and Philip his Son the Arch-Duke, was far too strong a Party for France; he began to fear, that now the French King (who had great Interest in the Affections of Philip the young King of Castile) and Philip himself, now King of Castile, (who was in

ill terms with his Father-in-Law about the present Government of Castile.) And thirdly Maximilian, Philip's Father (who was ever variable, and upon whom the surest Aim that could be taken, was that he would not be long, as he had been last before) would, all three being potent Princes, enter into some strait League and Con∣federation amongst themselves. Whereby though he should not be endangered, yet he should be left to the poor Amity of Arragon. And whereas he had been heretofore a kind of Arbiter of Europe, he should now go less, and be over-topped by so great a Conjunction. He had also (as it seems) an inclination to marry, and bethought himself of some fit Conditions abroad. And amongst others he had heard of the Beauty and virtuous Behaviour of the young Queen of Naples, the Widow of Ferdinando the younger, being then of Matronal years of seven and twenty. By whose Marriage he thought that the Kingdom of Naples (having been a Goal for a time, be∣tween the King of Arragon, and the French King, and being but newly setled) might in some part be deposited in his hands, who was so able to keep the Stakes. Therefore he sent in Ambassage or Message three confident Persons; Francis Marsin, James Braybrook, and John Stile, upon two several Inquisitions rather than Negotia∣tions. The One, touching the Person and Condition of the young Queen of Naples; the Other, touching all particulars of Estate, that concerned the Fortunes and Intentions of Ferdinando. And because they may observe best, who themselves are observed least, he sent them under Colourable Pretexts; giving them Letters of Kindness and Compliment from Katharine the Princess, to her Aunt, and Niece, the Old and Young Queen of Naples, and delivering to them also a Book of new Articles of Peace; which notwithstanding it had been delivered unto Doctor De Putbla, the Leigier Ambassador of Spain here in England, to be sent, yet for that the King had been long without hearing from Spain, he thought good those Messengers, when they had been with the two Queens, should likewise pass on to the Court of Ferdinando, and take a Copy of the Book with them. The Instructions touching the Queen of Naples were so curious and exquisite, being as Ar∣ticles whereby to direct a Survey, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Particular of her Person, for Complexion, Favour, Feature, Stature, Health, Age, Customs, Behaviour, Conditions, and Estate, as if the King had been young, a man would have judged him to be Amorous; but being ancient, it ought to be interpreted, that sure he was very Chast, for that he meant to find all things in one Woman, and so to settle his Affections, without ranging. But in this March he was soon cooled, when he heard from his Ambassadors, that this young Queen had had a goodly Joynture in the Realm of Naples, well answered during the time of her Uncle Frederick, yea, and during the time of Lewis the French King, in whose Division her Revenue fell; but since the time that the Kingdom

was in Ferdinando's hands, all was assigned to the Army, and Garrisons there, and she received only a Pension or Exhibition out of his Coffers.

The other part of the Inquiry had a grave and diligent Return, informing the King at full of the present State of King Ferdinando. By this Report it appeared to the King, that Ferdinando did continue the Government of Castile as Administrator unto his Daughter Joan, by the Title of Queen Isabella's Will, and partly by the Custom of the Kingdom, as he pretended. And that all Man∣dates and Grants were expedited in the name of Joan his Daughter, and himself as Administrator, without mention of Philip, her Husband. And that King Ferdinando, howsoever he did dismiss himself of the name of King of Castile, yet meant to hold the King∣dom, without Accompt; and in absolute Command.

It appeareth also, that he flattered himself with hopes, that King Philip would permit unto him the Goverment of Castile during his life; which he had laid his Plot to work him unto, both by some Counsellors of his about him, which Ferdinando had at his devotion, and chiefly by promise, that in case Philip gave not way unto it, he would marry some young Lady, whereby to put him by the Succession of Arragon and Granada, in case he should have a Son. And lastly by representing unto him that the Government of the Burgundians, till Philip were by continuance in Spain made as Natural of Spain, would not be endured by the Spaniards. But in all those things (though wisely laid down and considered) Ferdinando failed; But that Pluto was better to him than Pallas.

In the same Report also, the Ambassadors being mean men, and therefore the more free, did strike upon a string which was some∣what dangerous. For they declared plainly, that the People of Spain, both Nobles and Commons, were better affected unto the part of Philip (so he brought his Wife with him) than to Ferdi∣nando; and expressed the reason to be, because he had imposed upon them many Taxes; and Tallages, which was the King's own Case between him and his Son.

There was also in this Report a Declaration of an Overture of of Marriage, which Amason the Secretary of Ferdinando had made unto the Ambassadors in great secret, between Charles Prince of Castile and Mary the King's second Daughter; assuring the King, that the Treaty of Marriage then on foot, for the said Prince and the Daughter of France, would break, and that she the said Daughter of France should be married to Angolesme, that was the Heir Apparant of France.

There was a touch also of a speech of Marriage between Ferdi∣nando and Madam De Fois, a Lady of the Blood of France, which afterwards indeed succeeded. But this was reported as learned in France, and silenced in Spain.

The King by the return of this Ambassage, which gave great light unto his Affairs, was well instructed, and prepared how to carry himself between Ferdinando King of Arragon, and Philip his Son-in-law, King of Castile; resolving with himself, to do all that in him lay to keep them at one within themselves; But howsoever that succeeded, by a moderate Carriage and bearing the Person of a Common-friend, to lose neither of their Friendships; but yet to run a Course more entire with the King of Arragon, but more laboured and officious with the King of Castile. But he was much taken with the Overture of Marriage with his Daughter Mary; Both because it was the greatest Marriage of Christendom, and for that it took hold of both Allies.

But to corroborate his Alliance with Philip, the Winds gave him an Enterview. For Philip choosing the Winter-season, the better to surprise the King of Arragon, set forth with a great Navy out of Planders for Spain in the Month of January, the One and Twentieth year of the King's Reign. But himself was sur∣prised with a cruel Tempest, that scattered his Ships upon the several Coasts of England. And the Ship wherein King and Queen were (with two other small Barques only) torn, and in great peril to escape the fury of the weather, thrust into Weymouth. King Philip himself, having not been used (as it seems) to Sea, all wearied and extreme sick, would needs land to refresh his Spirits, though it was against the Opinion of his Council, doubting it might breed Delay, his Occasions requiring Celerity.

The Rumour of the Arrival of a puissant Navy upon the Coast, made the Countrey Arm. And Sir Thomas Trenchard with Forces suddenly raised, not knowing what the matter might be, came to Weymouth. Where understanding the Accident, he did in all Humbleness and Humanity invite the King and Queen to his House; and forthwith dispatched Posts to the Court. Soon after came Sir John Caroe likewise, with a great troop of Men well armed; using the like Humbleness and Respect towards the King, when he knew the Case. King Philip doubting that they, being but Subjects, durst not let him pass away again, without the King's Notice and Leave, yielded to their Entreaties, to stay till they heard from the Court. The King as soon as he heard the News, commanded presently the Earl of Arundel, to go to visit the King of Castile, and let him understand; That as he was very sorry for his Mishap, so he was glad that he had escaped the Danger of the Seas, and likewise of the Occasion himself had to do him Honour; and desiring him, to think himself as in his own Land; and that the King made all haste possible to come and embrace him. The Earl came to him in great Magnificence, with a brave Troop of three hundred Horse; and (for more State) came by Torch-light. After he had done the King's Message, King Philip seeing how the world went, the sooner to get away,

went upon speed to the King at Windsor, and his Queen followed by easie journeys. The two Kings at their meeting used all the Caresses, and loving Demonstrations, that were possible. And the King of Castile said presently to the King; That he was now punished, for that he would not come within his walled Town of Calice, when they met last. But the King answered, That Walls and Seas were nothing, where Hearts were open, and that he was here no other∣wise, but to be served. After a day or two's refreshing, the Kings entred into speech of renewing the Treaty; the King saying, That though King Philip's Person were the same, yet his Fortunes and State were raised. In which Case a Renovation of Treaty was used amongst Princes. But while these things were in handling, the King choosing a fit time, and drawing the King of Castile into a Room, where they two only were private, and laying his hand civilly upon his arm, and changing his Countenance a little from a Countenance of Entertainment, said to him; Sir, you have been saved upon my Coast, I hope you will not suffer me to wrack upon yours. The King of Castile asked him, What he meant by that speech? I mean it (saith the King) by that same Hare-brain wild Fellow, my Subject, the Earl of Suffolk, who is protected in your Countrey, and begins to play the Fool, when all others are weary of it. The King of Castile answered; I had thought (Sir) your Felicity had been above those thoughts. But if it trouble you, I will banish him, The King replied; Those Hornets were best in their Nests, and worst when they did flie abroad, that his desire was, to have him delivered to him. The King of Castile herewith a little confused, and in a study, said; That can I not do with my honour, and less with yours; for you will be thought to have used me as a Prisoner. The King presently said; Then the matter is at an end. For I will take that dishonour upon me, and so your honour is saved. The King of Castile, who had the King in great Estimation, and besides remembred where he was, and knew not what use he might have of the King's Amity, for that himself was new in his Estate of Spain, and unsetled, both with his Father-in-Law, and with his People, composing his Counte∣nance, said; Sir, you give Law to me; but so will I to you. You shall have him, but (upon your honour) you shall not take his life. The King embracing him, said; Agreed. Saith the King of Castile, Neither shall it dislike you, if I send to him in such a fashion, as he may partly come with his own good will. The King said; It was well thought of; and if it pleased him, he would joyn with him, in sending to the Earl a Message to that purpose. They both sent severally, and mean while they continued Feasting and Pastimes. The King being (on his part) willing to have the Earl sure before the King of Castile went; and the King of Castile being as willing to seem to be en∣forced. The King also with many wise and excellent Perswasions, did advise the King of Castile, to be ruled by the counsel of his Father-in-Law Ferdinando; a Prince so prudent, so experienced,

so fortunate. The King of Castile (who was in no very good terms with his said Father-in-Law) answered; That if his Father-in∣Law would suffer him to govern his Kingdoms, he should govern him.

There were immediately Messengers sent from both Kings to recall the Earl of Suffolk: Who upon gentle words used to him was soon charmed, and willing enough to return; assured of his Life, and hoping of his Liberty. He was brought through Flanders to Calice, and thence landed at Dover, and with sufficient Guard delivered and received at the Tower of London. Mean while King Henry (to draw out the time) continued his Feastings and Entertain∣ments, and after he had received the King of Castile into the Fra∣ternity of the Garter, and for a Reciprocal had his Son the Prince admitted to the Order of the Golden-fleece, he accompanied King Philip and his Queen to the City of London; where they were entertained with the greatest Magnificence and Triumph, that could be upon no greater warning. And as soon as the Earl of Suffolk had been conveyed to the Tower (which was the serious part) the Jollities had an end, and the Kings took leave. Nevertheless during their being here, they in substance concluded that Treaty, which the Flemings term Intercursus malus, and bears Date at Windsor; for that there be some things in it, more to the Advantage of the English, than of them; especially, for that the Free-fishing of the Dutch upon the Coasts and Seas of England, granted in the Treaty of Undecimo, was not by this Treaty confirmed. All Articles that confirm former Treaties being precisely and warily limited and confirmed to matter of Commerce only, and not otherwise.

It was observed, that the great Tempest which drave Philip into England, blew down the Golden Eagle, from the Spire of Pauls, and in the fall it fell upon a Sign of the Black Eagle, which was in Pauls Church-yard, in the place where the School-House now standeth, and battered it, and brake it down. Which was a strange stooping of a Hawk upon a Fowl. This the People in∣terpreted to be an Ominous Prognostick upon the Imperial House, which was (by Interpretation also) fulfilled upon Philip the Em∣peror's Son, not only in the Present Disaster of the Tempest, but in that that followed. For Philip arriving into Spain, and at∣taining the Possession of the Kingdom of Castile without resistance, (insomuch as Ferdinando, who had spoke so great before, was with difficulty admitted to the speech of his Son-in-Law) sickned soon after, and deceased. Yet after such time as there was an Observation by the wisest of that Court, That if he had lived, his Father would have gained upon him in that sort, as he would have governed his Counsels and Designs, if not his Affections. By this all Spain returned into the power of Ferdinando in state as it was before; the rather, in regard of the infirmity of Joan his Daughter, who loving her Husband (by whom she had many Children) dearly well, and no less beloved of him) howsoever

her Father, to make Philip ill beloved of the People of Spain, gave out that Philip used her not well) was unable in strength of mind to bear the Grief of his Decease, and fell distracted of her Wits. Of which Malady her Father was thought no ways to endeavour the Cure, the better to hold his Regal Power in Castile. So that as the Felicity of Charles the Eighth was said to be a Dream; so the Ad∣versity of Ferdinando was said likewise to be a Dream, it passed over so soon.

About this time the King was desirous to bring into the House of Lancaster Celestial Honour, and became Suitor to Pope Julius, to Canonize King Henry the Sixt for a Saint; the rather, in respect of that his famous Prediction of the King's own Assumption to the Crown. Julius referred the matter (as the manner is) to certain Cardinals, to take the verification of his Holy Acts and Miracles. But it dyed under the Reference. The general Opinion was, that Pope Julius was too dear, and that the King would not come to his Rates. But it is more probable, That that Pope (who was extremely jealous of the Dignity of the See of Rome, and of the Acts thereof) knowing that King Henry the Sixt was reputed in the World abroad but for a Simple Man, was afraid it would but diminish the Estimation of that kind of Honour, if there were not a distance kept between Innocents and Saints.

The same year likewise there proceeded a Treaty of Marriage between the King and the Lady Margaret Duchess Dowager of Savoy, only Daughter to Maximilian, and Sister to the King of Ca∣stile; a Lady wise, and of great good Fame. This Matter had been in speech between the two Kings at their meeting, but was soon after resumed; and therein was employed for his first piece the King's then Chaplain, and after the great Prelate Thomas Wolsey. It was in the end concluded, with great and ample Conditions for the King, but with promise De Futuro only. It may be the King was the rather induced unto it, for that he heard more and more of the Marriage to go on between his great Friend and Allie Ferdi∣nando of Arragon, and Madam De Fois, whereby that King began to piece with the French King, from whom he had been always before severed. So fatal a thing it is, for the greatest and straitest Amities of Kings, at one time or other to have a little of the Wheel. Nay there is a further Tradition (in Spain, though not with us) That the King of Arragon, after he knew that the Marriage between Charles, the young Prince of Castile, and Mary the King's second Daughter went roundly on (which though it was first moved by the King of Arragon, yet it was afterwards wholly advanced and brought to perfection by Maximilian, and the Friends on that side) entred into jealousie, that the King did aspire to the Government of Castilia, as Administrator during the Minority of his Son-in∣Law; as if there should have been a Competition of Three for that Government; Ferdinando, Grand-father on the Mothers side;

Maximilian, Grand-father on the Father's side; and King Henry, Father-in-Law to the young Prince. Certainly, it is not unlike, but the King's Government (carrying the young Prince with him) would have been perhaps more welcom to the Spaniards, than that of the other Two. For the Nobility of Castilia, that so lately put out the King of Arragon, in favour of King Philip, and had disco∣vered themselves so far, could not but be in a secret Distrust and Distast of that King. And as for Maximilian, upon Twenty re∣spects he could not have been the Man. But this purpose of the King's seemeth to me (considering the King's safe Courses, never found to be enterprizing or adventurous) not greatly probable, except he should have had a Desire to breathe warmer, because he had ill Lungs. This Marriage with Margaret was protracted from time to time, in respect of the Infirmity of the King, who now in the Two and Twentieth year of his Reign began to be troubled with the Gout. But the Defluxion taking also into his Breast, wasted his Lungs, so that thrice in a Year (in a kind of Return, and espe∣cially in the Spring,) he had great Fitts and Labours of the Tissick. Nevertheless he continued to intend Business with as great dili∣gence, as before in his Heath. Yet so, as upon this warning, he did likewise now more seriously think of the World to come, and of making himself a Saint, as well as King Henry the Sixth, by Treasure better employed, than to be given to Pope Julius. For this Year he gave greater Alms than accustomed, and discharged all Prisoners about the City, that lay for Fees or Debts, under forty Shillings. He did also make haste with Religious Foundations; and in the Year following (which was the Three and Twentieth) finished that of the Savoy. And hearing also of the bitter Cries of his People against the Oppressions of Dudley and Empson, and their Complices; partly by Devout Persons about him, and partly by publick Sermons (the Preachers doing their Duty therein) he was touched with great Remorse for the same. Nevertheless, Empson and Dudley, though they could not but hear of these Scruples in the King's Conscience; yet as if the King's Soul and his Money were in several Offices, that the One was not to intermeddle with the Other, went on with as great rage as ever. For the same Three and Twentieth Year was there a sharp Prosecution against Sir Wil∣liam Capel now the second time; and this was for matters of Mis∣government in his Maioralty. The great Matter being, that in some Payments he had taken knowledge of False Moneys, and did not his diligence to examine, and beat it out, who were the Offendors. For this and some other things laid to his Charge, he was condemned to pay two thousand Pounds; and being a Man of stomach, and hardened by his former Troubles, refused to pay a Mite; and be-like used some untoward Speeches of the Pro∣ceedings, for which he was sent to the Tower, and there remained till the King's Death. Knesworth likewise, that had been lately

Mayor of London, and both his Sheriffs, were, for Abuses in their Offices, questioned, and imprisoned, and delivered, upon one thousand four hundred Pounds paid. Hawis, an Alderman of London, was put in Trouble, and dyed with Thought and Anguish, before his Business came to an end. Sir Lawrence Ail∣mer, who had likewise been Mayor of London, and his two Sheriffs, were put to the Fine of one thousand Pounds. And Sir Law∣rence, for refusing to make payment, was committed to Pri∣son, where he stay'd till Empson himself was committed in his place.

It is no marvel (if the Faults were so light, and the Rates so heavy) that the King's Treasure of Store, that he left at his death, most of it in secret places, under his own key and keeping, at Richmond, amounted (as by Tradition it is reported to have done) unto the Summ of near eighteen hundred thousand Pounds Sterling; a huge Mass of Money, even for these times.

The last Act of State that concluded this King's Temporal Felicity, was the Conclusion of a Glorious Match between his Daughter Mary, and Charles Prince of Castile, afterwards the great Emperor, both being of tender years; which Treaty was perfected by Bishop Fox, and other his Commissioners at Calice, the year before the King's Death. In which Alliance, it seemeth he himself took so high Contentment, as in a Letter which he wrote thereupon to the City of London, (Commanding all possi∣ble Demonstrations of Joy to be made for the same) he expresseth himself, as if he thought he had built a Wall of Brass about his Kingdom. When he had for his Sons-in-Law a King of Scotland, and a Prince of Castile and Burgundy. So as now there was no∣thing to be added to this great King's Felicity, being at the top of all worldly Bliss, (in regard of the high Marriages of his Chil∣dren, his great Renown throughout Europe, and his scarce credible Riches, and the perpetual Constancy of his prosperous Successes) but an opportune Death, to withdraw him from any future blow of Fortune. Which certainly (in regard of the great Hatred of his People and the Title of his Son, being then come to Eighteen years of Age, and being a bold Prince and liberal, and that gained upon the People by his very Aspect and Presence) had not been impossible to have come upon him.

To crown also the last year of his Reign, as well as his first, he did an Act of Piety, rare, and worthy to be taken into Imi∣tation. For he granted forth a General Pardon, as expecting a second Coronation in a better Kingdom. He did also declare in his Will, that his mind was, that Restitution should be made of those Summs, which had been unjustly taken by his Officers.

And thus this Solomon of England (for Solomon also was too heavy upon his People in Exactions) having lived Two and Fifty Years, and thereof Reigned Three and Twenty Years and Eight

Months, being in perfect Memory, and in a most Blessed Mind, in a great Calm of a Consuming Sickness passed to a better World, the Two and Twentieth of April, 1508. at his Palace of Richmond, which himself had Built.

THis King (to speak of him in Terms equal to his Deserving) was one of the best sort of Wonders; a Wonder for Wise-men. He had parts (both in his Virtues, and his Fortune) not so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for a Common-place, as for Observation. Certainly he was Religious, both in his Affection and Observance. But as he could see clear (for those times) through Superstition, so he would be blinded (now and than) by Humane Policy. He advanced Church-men, he was tender in the Priviledge of Sanctuaries, though they wrought him much Mis∣chief. He built and endowed many Religious Foundations, besides his Memorable Hospital of the Savoy. And yet was he a great Alms∣giver in secret; which shewed, that his Works in publick were de∣dicated rather to God's glory, than his own. He professed always to love and seek Peace; and it was his usual Preface in his Treaties; That when Christ came into the World, Peace was sung; and when He went out of the World, Peace was bequeathed. And this Virtue could not proceed out of Fear, or Softness; for he was Valiant and Active, and therefore (no doubt) it was truly Christian and Moral. Yet he knew the way to Peace, was not to seem to be desirous to avoid Wars. Therefore would be make Offers, and Fames of Wars, till he had mended the Conditions of Peace. It was also much, that one that was so great a Lover of Peace, should be so happy in War. For his Arms (either in Forein or Civil Wars) were never Infortunate, neither did he know what a Disaster meant. The War of his Coming in, and the Rebellions of the Earl of Lincoln, and the Lord Awdley were ended by Victory. The Wars of France and Scotland, by Peaces sought at his hands. That of Britain, by accident of the Duke's death. The Insurrection of the Lord Lovel, and that of Perkin at Exceter, and in Kent, by flight of the Rebels, before they came to Blows. So that his Fortune of Arms was still Inviolate. The rather sure, for that in the quenching of the Commotions of his Subjects, he ever went in Person. Sometimes reserving himself to back and second his Lieu∣tenants, but ever in Action; and yet that was not meerly Forward∣ness, but partly Distrust of others.

He did much maintain and countenance his Laws, which (neverthe∣less) was no Impediment to him to work his Will. For it was so handled, that neither Prerogative, nor Profit went to Diminution. And yet as he would sometimes strain up his Laws to his Prerogative, so would he also let down his Prerogative to his Parliament. For Mint, and Wars, and Martial Discipline, (things of absolute Power) he would nevertheless bring to Parliament. Justice was well administred in his

time, save where the King was Party: Save also, that the Council∣Table intermedled too much with Meum and Tuum. For it was a very Court of Justice during his time, especially in the Beginning. But in that part both of Justice and Policy, which is the Durable Part, and cut (as it were) in Brass or Marble (which is The making of good Laws) he did excell. And with his Justice, he was also a Merciful Prince, as in whose time, there were but three of the Nobility that suffered; the Earl of Warwick, the Lord Chamberlain, and the Lord Awdley. Though the first two were instead of Numbers, in the Dislike and Obloquie of the People. But there were never so great Rebellions, expiated with so little Blood, drawn by the hand of Justice, as the two Rebellions of Black-heath and Exceter. As for the Severity used upon those which were taken in Kent, it was but upon a Scum of People. His Pardons went ever both before, and after his Sword. But then he had withal a strange kind of Interchanging of large and inexpected Pardons, with severe Executions. Which (his Wisdom considered) could not be imputed to any Inconstancy, or Inequality; but either to some Reason which we do not now know, or to a Principle he had set unto himself, That he would vary, and try both ways in turn. But the less Blood he drew, the more he took of Treasure. And (as some construed it) he was the more sparing in the One, that he might be the more pressing in the Other; for both would have been intolerable. Of Na∣ture assuredly he coveted to accumulate Treasure, and was a little Poor in admiring Riches. The People (into whom there is infused, for the preservation of Monarchies, a natural Desire to discharge their Princes, though it be with the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 charge of their Counsellors and Ministers) did impute this unto Cardinal Morton, and Sir Reginold Bray; who (as it after appeared) as Counsellors of ancient Authority with him, did so second his Humours, as nevertheless they did temper them. Whereas Empson, and Dudley that followed, being Persons that had no Reputation with him (otherwise than by the servile fol∣lowing of his Bent) did not give way only (as the first did) but shape him way to those Extremities, for which himself was touched with remorse at his Death, and which his Successor renounced, and sought to purge. This Excess of his, had at that time many Glosses and Interpretations. Some thought the continual Rebellions wherewith he had been vexed, had made him grow to hate his People. Some thought it was done to pull down their Stomachs, and to keep them low. Some, for that he would leave his Son a Golden-fleece. Some suspected he had some high Design upon Forein parts. But those perhaps shall come nearest the truth, that fetch not their reasons so far off; but rather impute it to Nature, Age, Peace, and a Mind fixed upon no other. Ambition or Pursuit. Whereunto I should add, that having every day Occasion to take notice of the Ne∣cessities and Shifts for Money of other great Princes abroad, it did the better (by Comparison) set off to him the Felicity of full Coffers. As to his expending of Treasure, he never spared Charge which his Affairs required; and in his Buildings was Magnificent, but his Rewards

were very limited. So that his Liberality was rather upon his own State and Memory, than upon the Deserts of others.

He was of an High Mind, and loved his own Will, and his own Way; as One that revered himself, and would Reign indeed. Had he been a Private-man, he would have been termed Proud. But in a wise Prince, it was but keeping of Distance, which indeed he did towards all; not admitting any near or full Approach, neither to his Power or to his Secrets. For he was governed by none. His Queen notwithstanding she had presented him with divers Children, and with a Crown also, (though he would not acknowledge it) could do no∣thing with him. His Mother he reverenced much, heard little. For any Person agreeable to him for Society (such as was Hastings to King Edward the Fourth, or Charles Brandon after to King Henry the Eighth) he had none: Except we should account for such Persons, Fox, and Bray, and Empson, because they were so much with him. But it was but as the Instrument is much with the Work-man. He had nothing in him of Vain-glory, but yet kept State and Majesty to the height; Being sensible, That Majesty maketh the People bow, but Vain-glory boweth to them.

To his Confederates abroad he was Constant and Just, but not Open. But rather such was his Inquiry, and such his Closeness, as they stood in the Light towards him, and he stood in the Dark to them. Yet without Strangeness, but with a semblance of mutual Communi∣cation of Affairs. As for little Envies or Emulations upon Forein Princes (which are frequent with many Kings) he had never any; but went substantially to his own Business. Certain it is, that though his Repu∣tation was great at home, yet it was greater abroad. For Foreiners that could not see the Passages of Affairs, but made their Judgments upon the Issues of them, noted that he was ever in Strife, and ever A-loft. It grew also from the Airs, which the Princes and States abroad re∣ceived from their Ambassadors and Agents here; which were attend∣ing the Court in great number. Whom he did not only content with Courtesie, Reward, and Privateness; but (upon such Conferences as passed with them) put them in Admiration, to find his Universal Insight into the Affairs of the World. Which though he did suck chiefly from themselves; yet that which he had gathered from them all, seemed Admirable to every one: So that they did write ever to their Supe∣riours in high terms, concerning his Wisdom and Art of Rule. Nay, when they were returned, they did commonly maintain Intelligence with him. Such a Dexterity he had to impropriate to himself all Fo∣rein Instruments.

He was careful and liberal to obtain good Intelligence from all parts abroad. Wherein he did not only use his Interest in the Liegers here, and his Pensioners which he had both in the Court of Rome, and other the Courts of Christendom; but the Industry and Vigilancy of his own Ambassadors in Forein parts. For which purpose, his Instructions were ever Extreme, Curious, and Articulate; and in them more

Articles touching Inquisition, than touching Negotiation. Requiring likewise from his Ambassadors an Answer, in particular distinct Articles, respectively to his Questions.

As for his secret Spials, which he did employ both at home and abroad, by them to discover what Practices and Conspiracies were against him, surely his Case required it: He had such Moles perpetually working and casting to undermine him. Neither can it be reprehended. For if Spials be lawful against lawful Enemies, much more against Conspi∣rators and Traytors. But indeed to give them Credence by Oaths or Curses, that cannot be well maintained; for those are too holy Vestments for a Disguise. Yet surely there was this further Good in his employing of these Flies and Familiars; That as the use of them was cause that many Conspiracies were revealed, so the Fame and Suspition of them kept (no doubt) many Conspiracies from being at∣tempted.

Towards his Queen he was nothing Uxorious, nor scarce Indulgent; but Companiable, and Respective, and without Jealousie. Towards his Children he was full of Paternal Affection, Careful of their Education, aspiring to their High Advancement, regular to see that they should not want of any due Honour and Respect, but not greatly willing to cast any Popular Lustre upon them.

To his Council he did refer much, and sate oft in Person; knowing it to be the Way to assist his Power, and inform his Judgment. In which respect also he was fairly patient of Liberty, both of Advice, and of Vote, till himself were declared. He kept a strait hand on his Nobility, and chose rather to advance Clergy-men and Lawyers, which were more Obsequious to him, but had less Interest in the People; which made for his Absoluteness, but not for his Safety. In so much as (I am perswaded) it was one of the Causes of his Troublesom Reign; for that his Nobles, though they were Loyal and Obedient, yet did not Co-operate with him, but let every man go his own Way. He was not afraid of an Able Man, as Lewis the Eleventh was. But contra∣riwise, he was served by the Ablest Men that were to be found; without which his Affairs could not have prospered as they did. For War, Bedford, Oxford, Surrey, Dawbeney, Brook, Poynings. For other Affairs, Morton, Fox, Bray, the Prior of Lanthony, War∣ham, Urswick, Hussey, Frowick, and others. Neither did he care how Cunning they were, that he did employ; For he thought him∣self to have the Master-Reach. And as he chose well, so he held them up well. For it is a strange thing, that though he were a Dark Prince, and infinitely Suspitious, and his Times full of Secret Con∣spiracies and Troubles; yet in Twenty-four Years Reign, he never put down, or discomposed Counsellor, or near Servant, save only Stan∣ley, the Lord Chamberlain. As for the Disposition of his Subjects in General towards him, it stood thus with him; That of the Three Affections, which naturally tye the Hearts of the Subjects to their Sovereigns, Love, Fear, and Reverence; he had the last in height,

the second in good measure, and so little of the first, as he was be∣holding to the other Two.

He was a Prince, Sad, Serious, and full of Thoughts, and secret Observations, and full of Notes and Memorials of his own hand, espe∣cially touching Persons. As whom to Employ, whom to Reward, whom to Enquire of, whom to Beware of, what were the Dependencies, what were the Factions, and the like; keeping (as it were) a Journal of his Thoughts. There is to this day a merry Tale; That his Monkey (set on as it was thought by one of his Chamber) tore his Principal Note∣Book all to pieces, when by chance it lay forth. Whereat the Court (which liked not those Pensive Accompts) was almost tickled with sport.

He was indeed full of Apprehensions and Suspitions. But as he did easily take them, so he did easily check them, and master them: whereby they were not dangerous, but troubled himself more than others. It is true; his Thoughts were so many, as they could not well always stand together; but that which did good one way, did hurt another. Neither did he at some times weigh them aright in their proportions. Certainly, that Rumour which did him so much mischief (That the Duke of York should be saved, and alive) was (at the first) of his own nourishing; because he would have more Reason not to reign in the Right of his Wife. He was Affable, and both Well and Fair-spoken, and would use strange Sweetness and Blandishments of Words, where he de∣sired to effect or perswade any thing that he took to heart. He was rather Studious than Learned; reading most Books that were of any worth, in the French Tongue. Yet he understood the Latin, as appeareth in that Cardinal Hadriah, and others, who could very well have written French; did usu to write to him in Latin.

For his Pleasures, there is no News of them. And yet by his In∣structions to Marsin and Stile, touching the Queen of Naples, it seemeth he could Interrogate well touching Beauty. He did by Pleasures, as great Princes do by Banquets, come and look a little upon them, and turn away. For never Prince was more wholly given to his Affairs, nor in them more of himself. In so much, as in Triumphs of Justs and Tourneys, and Balls, and Masques (which they then called Disguises) he was rather a Princely and Gentle Spectator, than seemed much to be delighted.

No doubt, in bine as in all men (and most of all in Kings) his Fortune wrought upon his Nature, and his Nature upon his Fortune. He at∣tained to the Crown, not only from a private Fortune, which might endow him with Moderation; but also from the Fortune of an Exi∣led Man, which had quickned in him all Seeds of Observation and Industry. And his Times being rather Prosperous, than Calm, had raised his Confidence by Success, but almost marred his Nature by Troubles. His Wisdom, by often evading from Perils, was turned rather into a Dexterity to deliver himself from Dangers, when they pressed him, than into a Providence to prevent and remove them a far off. And even in Nature, the Sight of his Mind was like some Sights of Eyes; rather strong at hand, than to carry a far off. For his Wit

increased upon the Occasion; and so much the more, if the Occasion were sharpened by Danger. Again, whether it were the shortness of his Foresight, or the strength of his Will, or the dazeling of his Suspitions, or what it was; Certain it is, that the perpetual Troubles of his Fortunes (there being no more matter out of which they grew) could not have been without some great Defects, and main Errours in his Nature, Customs, and Proceedings, which he had enough to do to save and help, with a thousand little Industries and Watches. But those do best appear in the Story it self. Yet take him with all his Defects if a Man should compare him with the Kings his Concurrents, in France, and Spain, he shall find him more Politick than Lewis the Twelfth of France, and more Entire and Sincere than Ferdinando of Spain. But if you shall change Lewis the Twelfth, for Lewis the Eleventh, who lived a little before; then the Consort is more perfect. For that Lewis the Eleventh, Ferdinando, and Henry, may be esteemed for the Tres Magi of Kings of those Ages. To conclude, If this King did no greater matters, it was long of himself; for what he minded, he compassed.

He was a Comely Personage, a little above Just Stature, well and straight limmed, but slender. His Countenance was Reverend, and a little like a Church-man: And as it was not strange or dark, so neither was it Winning or Pleasing, but as the Face of one well disposed. But it was to the Disadvantage of the Painter; for it was best when he spake.

His Worth may bear a Tale or two, that may put upon him some∣what that may seem Divine. When the Lady Margaret his Mother had divers great Suitors for Marriage, she dreamed one Night, That one in the likeness of a Bishop, in Pontificial habit, did tender her Edmund Earl of Richmond (the King's Father) for her Husband. Neither had she ever any Child but the King, though she had three Husbands. One day when King Henry the Sixth, (whose Innocency gave him Holiness) was washing his hands at a great Feast, and cast his Eye upon King Henry, then a young Youth, he said; This is the Lad, that shall possess quietly that that we now strive for. But that that was truly Divine in him, was, that he had the Fortune of a True Christian, as well as of a Great King, in living Exer∣cised, and dying Repentant. So as he had an happy Warfare in both Conflicts, both of Sin, and the Cross.

He was born at Pembrook-Castle, and lyeth buried at Westminster, in one of the Stateliest and Daintiest Monuments of Europe, both for the Chappel, and for the Sepulchre. So that he dwelleth more richly Dead, in the Monument of his Tomb, than he did Alive in Rich∣mond, or any of his Palaces. I could wish he did the like, in this Monument of his Fame.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 10.1

  The Origi∣nal of this Pro∣clamation re∣maineth with Sir Robert 〈◊〉〈◊〉, a worthy Preserver and Treasurer of rare Antiqui∣ties: from whose Manu∣scripts I have had much light for the furnishing of this Work.