A generall rehearsall of warres, called Churchyardes choise wherein is fiue hundred seuerall seruices of land and sea as seiges, battailes, skirmiches, and encounters. A thousande gentle mennes names, of the beste sorte of warriours. A praise and true honour of soldiours. A proofe of perfite nobilitie. A triall and first erection of heraldes. A discourse of calamitie. And ioyned to the same some tragedies & epitaphes, as many as was necessarie for this firste booke. All which workes are dedicated to the hounourable sir Christopher Hatton knight, ... Written by Thomas Churchyard Gent. 1579.

To the right honourable my most assured freend, sir Christopher Hatton Knight vize chamberlaine to the Queenes Maiestie, and one of her highnesse priuie Counsaill: Thomas Churchyarde wisheth as greate good For∣tune and worldly felicitie, as he desi∣reth heauenlie blessyng.

IF the ground yeld not corne, the Tree beare fruite, the flower keepe sent and sauour, we hold them as waste, and in a shorte season forget their former goodnesse: So freendes waxyng faint of memorie, feble in duetie (and negligent of that becomes them) fall at length out of fauour, and lose the blessed benifite of freendshippe. For the penne, hedde, or hande, that hath vsed honeste exercises, once liyng idell, doeth not onely pur∣chace suspition, but also breedeth muche misli∣king, and makes menne forgotten, where moste thei would be remembred. So right honourable, consideryng these causes, I ought to be occupied

in my accustomed maner of writyng, least that tyme and slouth (the corrupter and cankerar of good conditions) weare me cleane out of credite and compell me to forthinke the idelnesse I haue vsed. Yea, albeit the matter be but barraine, I seeke to bryng forthe, yet a duetifull wel willar, ought to bee doyng the beste in his power, that the best maie be taken, and gathered of the good will, that still hath a desire to bryng forth some acceptable fruite. And truely though my sen∣ses are simple, to sift and search out suche mat∣ter, as were meete for the personage, to whom this is offered. Yet I can not want good store and copie of causes to write of in this crooked age, where no one thing is streight and vpright but a noble mynde, that neither stoupes to the mutabilitie of fortune, nor boweth doune to the wickednesse of this waiward worlde: To treate of the whiche (vnder correctiō) I haue a great desire. For the common people haue clapped on sutche newe Natures, and are so finely trans∣formed, from the olde fashion of goodnesse, as a perfite iust man is as hard to finde emong them, as a Phenix out of Arabie. Yet was there ne∣uer more curiositie of woordes, nor lesse con∣stancie

in deedes: for now is he accoumpted no bodie, that can not deceiue a multitude. And the more finelier he can behaue hym self, the more affection is borne hym, so that the plaine meanyng is ouermatched with the connyng cō∣ueiance of muffled mischeef. And the outwarde show of simplicitie, disceiues the inward iudge∣ment so mutche, that the subtell Foxe goes vn∣spied, and the simple Sheepe is led to the slaugh∣ter. For with artificiall courtezie, and double dessembled countenaunce, plaine people are car∣ried from them selues, and made the bonde sla∣ues of those wolues, that priuelie deuoures thē. The little Antes ronnes not so faste out of the Moule hill, as the fauners with flattrie followes their heeles, that thei minde to ouer reache, and wrest to their profite: And who is so diligent as the deceiuer, and so readie to attende & waite, as the wilie worldlyng. VVho first can fishe out mennes maners & inclinations, and after feede their humours, accordyng to their infirmities. And in deede these craftie men pleasars, haue more mynde of Mammon then of God, of va∣nitie then of vertue. For like vices on a stage thei serue in a State, and helpe to fill out a bare

matter with a bad laughter. These are the wie∣ly Spannyels of the worlde, that can not be bea∣ten frō the heles of nobilitie. These are the tur∣ning weather cockes, that seldome standeth stil. And these are the cunnyng Clarkes, who neuer came in vniuersitie, and yet are fine maisters of Art. And who licketh vp the crommes, that falleth from the table of good fortune: but these whinyng whelpes, that priuely can bite and o∣penly can faune. For the dissembler getts more by doublenesse, then by plaine dealyng, & more by good lucke, then by good maners. As some of the Sages affirme, that conning creepes alwaies in fauour. And blinde affection is the onely fa∣ther, that begettes the children of good chance, and brynges the fauoured to prefarment. And all the reste are but bastardes of beggarie, be∣gotten out of season, & borne in haste. VVhich babes for want of blessyng, are become wande∣rars of this worlde, pilgrims of the yearth, and blossomes of a blasted tree. But the graue and wise holde opinion, a man maie as well seeke to clime to the cloudes, as come by commoditie till the cause and ground of all goodnesse, call hym to the doale, and deale hym an almes. For nei∣ther

shifte nor snatchyng will helpe, where por∣tions are deuided (and lotted out) to the plea∣sure of the giuer. In plentie he tombleth that is prefarred to any place or benefite by this cele∣stiall order, and appointment of the almightie. But some shreude serchers of secretes, holde o∣pinion that Sathan is princeps mundi: and the mucke of this moulde vndeseruedly, falles in their lappes, that least is thought worthie of so greate aboundance. And the poore are the per∣sonages, that in the other worlde (for their pa∣cience here) shalbe placed beyonde our common exspectation. It maie be moste likely: For riche's is a readie instrument, and a pleasaunte pipe to make men dance after the deuells Tabber. And pouertie is the perfite pathe to lead men to feli∣citie. Yet there nedes no argument to descipher the one from the other: For in bothe estates a manne maie doe well, but the riche hath better meane to doe good then the poore. If those that are fleetyng in the flood of good fortune, looke backwarde on the little brookes, that feedes the Sea with water, and followes the tides by con∣tinuall recourse, the onely cause of the swellyng of the Seas, and pride of the streames. For, if e∣uery

small spryng were stopte, eche large Riuer kepte in, and all kinde of Fountaines restrained from their course, a seconde Sea would bee seen on the lande, or the fulnesse of the firste would begin to decline. So that the repaire of people to any place, procures vaine glorie, loftie lookes, ambicious myndes, and maintaineth mutche pompe, and sutche as withdrawe them selues frō wilfull seruitude, neither flatter their owne iudgementes to farre, nor filles vp the flood to faste. There is no more to bee saied, but in this worldly Theater, euery man plaies one parte or other, that either is worthie rebuke, or merites commendation. O that menne knewe what gaie garlande, is gotten by the goodnesse of vertue, then the inferior sort would not striue & wra∣stell, to putte on the wretched wreath of vice. For as right renoume is the true reward of well dooyng: So open reproche followes, as a sha∣dowe the bodie, that is readie to doe harme. The good that is dooen emong the thankefull, is not onely redoubled againe with good will: but like wise linketh in a chaine of loue, the hartes of those that receiues it. And thei are priuie rich, that can by bountie purchace many debtars,

deserue many blessynges, and make many peo∣ple be beholdyng vnto them. A number of glo∣syng and glorious worldlinges, that by bragges of boūtie, offer good turnes to saell, with a signe and showe that thei maie be bought for a little or nothyng: but on a sodaine thei rather looke who can doe theim good, then remember to whō thei haue offered the saell, and commmoditie of their marchandice. Sutche fine fellowes and pe∣tie foggars, are the frothe and scome of the sea, that welters with the waues: and not the Ho∣nie and Creame of the yearth, that ought to be preciously made of. And lo for a proofe of praise sutche yonkars can promesse more in an howre, then thei minde to performe all their life tyme, thinking with bare woordes, to winne freendes and followers, where naked woorkes of Nature nourisheth nothyng, but hollownesse of harte. For proofe and example thereof, let the thristie looke for drinke, and finde his hope deceiued (at the well hedde of comforte) he flynges awaie his bottle, beates his breast with repētance, & falles in misliking for euer, or seekes some other faire fountain, to coole and quenche the flaming fur∣naies of the stomacke. An other sorte there are

(but no greate number) whiche without boste, bragge, or businesse, are glad to finde an occasion to pleasure their freende, by woorde, deede, tra∣uaill, or charges: And these are the Salte of the worlde, that seasoneth the life of manne with sweete sauor, and giueth good tast at the death to the soule before God. There is no one man so mightie, so strong, valiaunt, or wise, but needes the aide of an other, and happie are the handes, hedde, and bodie, from whom helpe proceadeth. It breedeth merrie thoughtes, causeth sweete sleepes, shaketh of displeasure, to woorke a com∣mon commoditie, or a priuate benefite, whiche goodnesse and noble Nature, is in some that I knowe. But for feare of fallyng into a kinde of adulation therein (nor in the discourse of the worlde) I goe no farther, confessyng that who soeuer listeth to write, hath coppie and store of matter enough to treate vppon, when willyng mynde leades the penne, and honest iudgement shall skilfully scan the maners of menne, their sondrie inclinations, their quallities and callin∣ges, and the disposition of the worlde. And for that my capacitie reacheth not farre, and dis∣coursyng of greate thynges, maie bryng my

small knowledge out of compasse. I haue bente my studie to treate of cōmon causes, as familiar with the wise & learned in these our daies, as weakest fancies in other seasons hath been with the ignoraunte people embraced. And because many writers haue but sleightly touched (both in Chronicle and otherwise) the affaires of warre, the honour of Soldiours, the cause and beginnyng of Nobilitie, the erection of Haral∣des, the names of Gentlemen that well haue de∣serued: the goodnesse that Calamitie bryngeth, and the fame that noble life attaineth vnto. I haue taken this troublous taske in hande, not onely to woorke truely, for the daiely hire that good report giueth, but to showe plainly my ho∣neste meanyng (in the thynges named) that bothe laboure and long studie hath brought me too. Not thinking but your honourable insight, and acquaintaunce with these matters, needes none of my discourses: but because I promised in the booke of my Chipps (a matter vnfit for your honour to looke on) to presente an other worke, whiche hath been long of commyng out, and I feare is ouer simple with all this greate laisure, to merite thankes. Notwithstandyng,

the paines hath been greate, and desire to dooe well not little: yet the barenesse of the woordes and weakenesse of the matter, I dread will ei∣ther lose my thankes, or driue me in disgrace. And yet I might saie that the matter (nowe presented, though not well written) maie claim a greate consideration, and merites as mutche fauour, as any thyng that euer passed from my penne. The iudgemente whereof, can not escape the compasse of your honorable knowledge, and albeeit that with diuers deuises and bookes de∣dicated, to sondrie good and greate personages, I haue wandered a while) after the fauour of this worlde, and the good Fortune, that dili∣gence might haue brought: yet nowe wearied with ouermutche labour in gaddyng about, for the purchasyng of freendshippe (hardely to bee gotten, and as daungerous to bee kepte) am dri∣uen to retire to my firste Fortresse and holde, where helpe is to bee had, and succour is to bee sought, because my second practise neither pur∣chased prefarment, nor paied for the paines and paper, that I thinke well bestowed. And though verely some thinke, that good turnes comes ra∣ther (in generall cases) by Fortune, affection, or

fauoure, then by diligence, studie, or desarte, I a dresse my laste woorkes, where I truste a no∣ble mynde shalbee iudge of my labours, and so further my happ and fauour in the worlde, that no hatefull Fortune, nor people shall hinder my hope. Thus hopyng the woorkes, by help of your protection presented, shall haue as many fauou∣rers as readers, and no more readers (that mislikes the matter) then liketh to write an other discourse as well meante. I shadowe my self vnder the sheelde of youre honoure, so dwellyng in that saffetie & staiednesse of mynd (whiche is a beautie to hoarie heares) I wishe you what beste can bee imagined, of honoure, wealthe, knowledge, credite, and worldly felici∣tie. Praiyng with all, that the blessed deawe of heauen, multiplie and keepe moiste the manifold graces, of your well desposed mynde. From my lodging the xv. of October. 1579.

Thomas Churchyard in all that he maie, at your hono∣rable commandmente.