A Chronicle of the Kings of England from the Time of the Roman Government
For the better Confirmation of what wa • agreed upon between the two kings, an 〈◊〉 is desired; but before the same is e •• ectua • ed, the French king sends to the Eng •• sh army an hundred Tonne of Gascoigne wine, to be drunk out amongst the priv •• e • ouldiers, and therewithal, free license for Commanders and Gentlemen to recreate themselves in Amye • s, where they were lovingly entertained by the Burgers of the Town, by the kings express command. The place of enterview of these two 〈◊〉 is agreed on to be at Picquency, a Town three miles distant from Am • e • s, seated in • • ottome, through which the river of Some runneth, over which a strong bridge was bu •• t, and in the midst thereof a gra • e made overthwart with • arts, no wider 〈◊〉 than a man might well thrust in his arm; covered with boardes overhead • to avoid the rain • four of the Bed-chamber on both sides, are appointed to search the room • , to prevent traps of instrumen •• of treachery: and being by them certified that • ll as was clear, the kings advance themselves. King Edward being come in sight of the place, made a stand; being told, that the circumstance of coming f • r • t to th • place, was a matter of great disparagement in point of State: but the French king • o • e regarding subst • nce then circumstance, gave the king of England the advan •••• to come at hi • pleasure, and went first to the bar appointed for conference, 〈◊〉 the • e did attend king Edwards leisure. He had in his Company, John Duke of 〈◊〉 , with his brother the Cardinal, and eight hundred m • n at Arms. King Ed •••• h • d with him, his brother the Duke of Clarence, the Earl of Northumberland, • he Lord's Chamberlain and Chancellor, and at his back his whole Army in b • t • e •• . The kings lovingly salute each other, and complements of courtesy re • ipro 〈…〉 which finished, They with their Noblemen there present, take all • heir 〈◊〉 upon the holy Evangelists, in all to their • ower, to observe the Articles o • 〈◊〉 agre • d on. After which, In private the French king impor • u • es king Ed •••• , that the Duke of Britain might be left out of these Articles: but after much 〈◊〉 to that purpose, king Edward gave his resolute answer • that if king Lewis 〈◊〉 the friendship of Engl • nd, he should not molest the Duke of Britain • for • hat he was resolved, at any time to come in person to relieve him • if he were distu • • ed: King Edward pretended the many kindness he had form • lie rec • ived of the Duke of Britain: but it was conceived, that the desire of compassing the Ea • les o • 〈◊〉 and Pembroke, now in the Duke of Britain's Country, were the greatest 〈◊〉 of his standing • o • irmely for him. The money to be paid to king Ed •• rd 〈◊〉 the Articles, is accordingly paid; and thereupon the French Hostages are delivered, and the Englis • Army re •• res to Calais, and from thenc • is transported into 〈◊〉 and then the English Hostages are likewise delivered. This Peace was 〈◊〉 • o be made only by the holy Ghost; because on the day of me • ing, a white Dove came and sat upon the king of England's Tent: though the Dukes of Gloucester and Burgoig • e thought it was made by no good spirit.
King Edward being returned into England, had his mind running still upon the dange • that might grow from the Earl of Richmond: he therefore dispatched D. Stillington and two other his Ambassadors to the Duke of Bri • aine, to send him over to him, under this subtle pretence, that he meant to match him in marriage with the Lady Cicill • his younger daughter; and withal, sent also no small store of Angels to speak for him: which so prevailed with the Duke, that he delivered the Earl o • Richmond to the Ambassadors, who conducted him thence to Saint Malo • , where whilst they stayed for a wind, the young Earl, by the cunning plotting of Peter Landoi • the Dukes Treasurer (more out of scorn that he was not gratified by the English Ambassador to the proportion of his place, than for any love to the Earl) escapes into Sanctuary; from whence neither prayers nor promises could get him cut: Nevertheless, upon Peter Landois his promise he should be safely kept there, the Ambassadors departed, and returned home, acquainted K. Edward with the Duke of B •• goig •• s courtesy in delivering him, and their own negligence in suffering him to escape, only making amends with the promise of Peter Landois ; which might be to K. Edward some contentment, but was no satisfaction.
At Christmas following, being the sixteenth year of his Reign, he created his eldest son Edward, Prince of Wales, Duke of Cor • wall, and Earl of Chester: his second son he made Duke of York ; giving the order of knighthood to the son and heir of the Earl of Li • col • e, and many others. He created also four and twenty knights of the Bath, whereof Brian Chief Justice, and Littleton a Judge of the Common Pleas, were two.
About this time, there were two examples of severity seen; not unworthy the relating, if but only to make us see how dangerous a thing it is Ludere cum sancti • , to speak words that may be taken as reflecting upon the king. The first was of one Walter Walker, a wealthy Citizen, dwelling at the sign of the Crown in Cheapside: This man one day when his child cried, bid him be quiet, and he would make him heir of the Crown: which words being subject to interpretation, he was called in question about them, arraigned, condemned, and put to death. The other was of Thomas Burdet of Arrow in Warwickeshire Esquire: It happened that K. Edward hunted in his Park, he being from home; and there killed a white Buck, whereof Mr. Burde • made special account: so as coming home, and finding that Buck killed, he wished it horns and all in his belly that had counseled the king to kill it: and because none counseled the King to kill it but himself; it was thought those words were not spoken without a malignant reflecting upon the King: and thereupon Burdet was arraigned and condemned, drawn to Tiburne, and there beheaded: though M • rkh •• then Chief Justice, chose rather to lose his place, than assent to the Judgment.
And now began ambition to boil in Richard Duke of Gloucester ; whereof the first heat fell upon his brother the Duke of Clarence, how to rid him out of the way; to which end, he seeks to raise Jealousies in King Edwards head against him, telling him, that some of Clare • ce his followers were Sorcere • s and Necromancers, and had given forth speeches, that one whose name begun with G. should disinherit his Children and get the Crown: and for a color of this suggestion, one of the Duke of Clar •• ce his servants, who came with him out of Ireland, from Dublin, where the Duke was born; is in his Masters absence, by the procurement underhand of the Duke of Gloucester, indicted, • rraigned, condemned and executed at Tyburne for a Conjurer, and all within the space of two days: and the Duke of Gloucester, to make show that he had no hand in this fellows death, set on the Duke of Clarence to complain of it to King Edward ; and in the mean time finds matter, at least color of matter, to make him be committed to the Tower; • nd then again, to make show he had no hand in his imprisonment, bids him be of good cheer, for it should not be long ere he would see him released: and he kept his word; for not long after, by his procurement, he was drowned in a But of Malmesey, (and this was his releasement) and then laid in his bed, to make the people believe that he died of discontent; whose death, King Edward though perhaps consenting to it, so much resented, that afterwards when he was sued unto for any man's Pardon, he would • ighing break out into such words: Oh unfortunate brother • for whose life not one man would open his mouth. Being dead, he was buried at Tewkesbury in Glocestershire, by the body of his Duchess, who great with child, died of Poison a little before.
It was now the two and twentieth year of King Edwards Reign, when James King of Scotland sent Ambassadors to treat of a Marriage between his eldest son James Duke of Rothsay, and Cicely king Edwards second daughter. This overture for a March, was by the king and his Council readily embraced, and a great part of the Portion was delivered to the Scots, with this Proviso, That if the marriage di • not proceed, the Provost and Merchants of Edenbourgh should be bound to rep • y it again. But the Scottish king, who had other fantasies in his head, and would take counsel of none but his own will, and diverted also perhaps by the king of France ; not only dallied the proceeding in the ma • ch, but affronted those of the Nobility th • t persuaded him to it; in so much that his Brother the Duke of Albany was enforced to abandon the Country, and to fly for refuge into England: by whom king Edward being informed of king James his fickle disposition, was so much incensed, that under the conduct of the Duke of Gloucester, accompanied with the Duke of Albany, he sent an Army of twenty thousand against Scotland ; who in their way took in Barwick, and besieged the Castle; which being resolutely defended by the Earl Bothwell, the Duke left the Lord Stanley to continue the siege, whilst he, wi • h the rest of the Army, marched towards Edenbourgh ; where within the Castle of Maydens, king James had immur'd himself. But the Nobility of Scotland, seeing the danger they were in, endeavored by humble submission, to procure a peace, at least a cessation from war; which with much importunity they obtained, upon these Conditions: That full satisfaction should be presently given, for all damages sustained by the late incursions: That the Duke of Albany should be fully restored to grace and place, with an abolition of all discontents between his brother king James and him: That the Castle of Barwicke, (which had been now out of the Possession of the English, one and twenty years) should immediately be surrendered into the Generals hands; and from thence no reduction of that or the Town attempted: That all such sums of money as upon the proposition of the marriage, had been delivered, should be repaid. All which, except the first Article, were accordingly p •• formed.
When this business with Scotland was indifferently accomodated; King Edward receive • s intelligence from his Ambassador-Leidger in France, that the French King not only denied the payment of the annual Tribute of fifty thousand crowns, agreed upon and sworn to upon the ratification of the late concluded Peace; but had also married the Dolphin of France to the Lady Margaret, daughter of Maximill • n Son of the Emperor; which so much incensed K. Edward, that he resolves to revenge it; and by the advise of his Counsel, open war was presently Proclamed against France : but whilst King Edward is making preparation, and intentive to the business, he is attached by the hand of death; and upon the ninth of April, in the year 1483, at Westminster ended this mortal life.
Of his Taxations.
IN his second year, he sent his Privy Seal through England, to move men to give him a certain sum of money towards resisting the Scots, wh • ch was granted and given liberal • y. In his seventh year, in a Parliament at Westminster, were •• sumed all manner of gifts, which the King had given, from the first day he took possession of the Realm, to that time. In his eighth year, at a Parliament, were grant • d two Fifteens and a Demy. In his thirteenth year, a Parliament was holden, wherein, a Sub • idie was granted; and the year following, towards war to be undertaken in France, a new way of raising money is devised, called a Benevolence, by which great sums of money were gotten of the Subject: and it is not unworthy the relating, what an old rich Widow at this time did; whom King Edward, amonstothers having called before him, merrily asked, what she would willingly give him towards his great charges? By my troth (quoth she) for thy lovely countenance, thou shalt have even twenty pounds. The King looking scarce for half that sum, thanked her, and lovingly kist her; which so wrought with the old widow, that she presently swore, he should have twenty pound more; and paid it willingly. No • long before his death, he was by ill Counselors put upon a distasteful course for raising of money; which was, by fining men for delinquencies against Penall Statures by which course some money was gathered; but before it came to full execution, he dying, that also died with him.
Of his Laws and Ordinances.
IN his fourth year, he newly devised the Coyne both of Gold and Silver, as a • this day it is; the Gold, he named Royals and Nobles; the Silver, Groats and 〈◊〉 Groats: the new Groate weighing scantly three pence; and the Noble of six shillings eight pence, appointed to go for eight shillings four pence. In his fifth year, it was Proclamed in England, that the Beakes or Pykes of Shooes and Bootes, should not pass two Inches, upon pain of Cursing by the Clergy, and forfeiting twenty shillings, to be paid one noble to the King, another to the Cordwayners of London, and the third to the Chamber of London ; and for other Countries and Towns the like order was taken. Before this time, and since the year 1382. the Pykes of Shooes and Bootes were of such length, that they were fain to be tied up to the Knees with chains of Silver and gilt, or at least with silken laces.
Affaires of the Church in his time.
IN this Kings time, the Jubile which was before but every fiftieth year, was by Pope Six ••• the fourth, brought to be every five and twenty year. Also, where before this time, the Scottish Bishops had no Metropolitan, but the Bishop of York was Metropolitan and Primate of Scotland ; now in this Kings time, Pope Six ••• appointed the Bishop of Saint Andrew's to be Metropolitan of Scotland, who had twelve Bishops under his obedience.
Of Works of Piety done in his time.
THIS King laid the foundation of the new Chapel at Windso • , and his Queen Elizabeth founded the Queens College in Cambridge, and endowed it with large Possessions. About his fifteenth year, Doctor Woodlarke Provost of Kings College in Cambridge, Founded Katherine-hall there. In his seventeenth year, the Wall of the City of London, from Cripplegate to Bishopsgate, was built at the charges of the Citizens, also Bishopsgate it self was new built by the Merchants 〈◊〉 of the Styliard. Also in this year died Sir John Crosby Knight, late Major of London ; who gave to the repairing of the Parish-Church of St. Helens in Bishopsgatestreet, where he was buried, 500 Marks: to the repairing of the parish Church of He • w • rth in Middlesex, forty pounds: to the repairing of London-wall, an hundred pounds: to the repairing of Rochester-bridge, ten pounds: to the Wardens and Commonalty of the Grocers in London, two large Pots of silver chased half gilt, and other Legacies. About this time also, Richard Rawson one of the Sheriffs of London, caused an house to be built in the Church-yard of St. Mary Hospitalll without Bishopsgate, where the Major and Aldermen use to sit and hear the Sermons in Easterholy-days. In his nineteenth year, William Tailor Major of London, gave to the City certain Tenements; for the which the City is bound to pay forever, at every Fifteene granted to the King, for all such as shall dwell in Cordwainers-street-ward, sessed at twelve-pence apiece, or under. And about the same time, one Thomas 〈◊〉 Sheriff of London, built at his own costs the great Conduit in Che • pside. In his three and twentieth year, Edmund Shaw Goldsmith, who had been Major of London, at his own costs re-edified Cripplegate in London, which gate in old time had been a Prison.
Of Casualties happening in his time.
IN his third year, the Minster of York, and the Steeple of Christ's Church in Norwich were burnt. In his seventeenth year, so great a Pestilence reigned in England, that it swept away more people in four months, than the Wars had done in fifteen years past. Also in his nineteenth year was another Pes •• lence; which beginning in the later end of September, continued till the beginning of November twelve-month following; in which space of time innumerable people died.
Of his wife and issue.
KIng Edward had been contracted to Eleanor daughter of John Talbot Earl of Shrewsbury, married after to Sir Thomas Butler Baron of S • dely : but he married Elizabeth the widow of Sir John Grey, daughter of Richard Woodvile by his wife Iaqueline Duchess of Bedford: she lived his wife eighteen years and eleven months; by whom he had three sons and seven daughters. Edward his eldest son, borne in the Sanctuary at Westminster: Richard his second son, borne at Shrewsbury: George his third son, borne also at Shrewsbury, but died a child. Elizabeth his eldest daughter, promised in marriage to Charles Dolphin of France ; but married afterward to King Henry th • Seventh: Cicely his second daughter, promised in marriage to James Duke of • othsay, Prince of Scotland ; but was married afterward to John Viscount Wells, whom she outlived, and was again re-married, but by neither husband had any issue: she lieth buried at Quarena in the Isle of Wight. Anne his third daughter was married to Thomas Howard Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshall, and High Treasurer of England ; by whom she had two sons, both dying without issue: she lieth buried at Framingham in Norfolk. Bridget his fourth daughter, borne at Eltham in Kent, became a Nun in the Nunnery of Dartford in Kent, which king Edward had founded. Mary his fifth daughter, was promised in marriage to the King of Denmark, but died in the Tower of Greenwich, before it could be solemnized: she lieth buried at Windsor. Margaret his sixth daughter, died an Infant. Katherine his seventh daughter, was married to William Courtney Earl of Devo • shire ; to whom she bare Lord Henry, who by King Henry the eighth was created Marquess of Exeter.
Concubines he had many, but three specially; and would use to say, that he had three Concubines, who in their several properties excelled: One, the merriest; another, the wyliest; the third, the holiest harlot in his Realm; as one whom no man could lightly get out of the Church to any place, unless it were to his bed; The other two were greater personages than are sit to be named: but the merriest was Shores wife; in whom therefore he took special pleasure: This woman was borne in London, worshipfully descended. and well married: but when the King had abused her, anon her husband (as he was an honest man, and did know his good, not presuming to touch a Kings Concubine) left her up to him altogether.
By these he had natural issue; Arthur surnamed Plantagenet, (whose mother, as is supposed, was the Lady Elizabeth Lucy ) created Viscount Lisle, by King Henry the Eight, at Bridewell in London: And Elizabeth, who was married to Sir Thomas Lumley knight; to whom she bare Richard, afterward Lord Lumley, from whom the late Lord Lumley did descend.
Of his Personage and Conditions.
HE was (saith Comines ) the goodliest Personage that ever mine eyes beheld; exceeding tall of statu • e, fair of complexion, and of most Princely presence: and we may truly say, he was of full age before he came to one and twenty; for being but eighteen years old when his Father died, he sued out his livery presently: so as he began the race of his for •• ne just like Augustus Caesar, each of them at the same age succeeding an Ancestour after a violent death; and each of them left to set on a roof, where but only a fo •••• tion was laid before. For his conditions, he was of an erected composure both of body • nd mind, but something sagging on the Fleshes side; and never any man that did marry for Love, did so little love Marriage; for he took as much pleasure in other men's wives as in his own. He was never more confident, than when he was in danger; nor ever more doubtful, than when he was s •• ure. Of the four Cardinal virtues, For •• nde and Prudence were in him naturally; Temperance •• d Justice, but to serve his turn. He was politick even to irreligion; for to compass his ends, he would not stick to swear what he never meant. Yet he was Religious beyond Policy; for before Battailes, he used to make his Prayers to God; after Victories, to give him Thanks. He was far from being proud, yet very ambitious; and could use familiarity, and yet retain Majesty. He was a great Briber; and wha • he could not get by force, he would by Rewards; as much as what he could not get by Battery, he would by Mines. H • was too credulous of Reports, which made him be in error, sometimes to the h • rt of himself, oftentimes of others. He had made the White Rose to flourish as long as Henry the Fourth made the Red, if he had not made it change color with too much blood. He had been fortunate in his children, if he had not been unfortunate in a brother: but he was well enough served, that would think a Wolf could ever be a good Shepherd. He had an excellent art in improving his favors; for he could do as much with a small courtesy, as other men with a great benefit: And that which was more, he could make advantage of disadvantages; for he got the love of the Londoners by owing them money; and the good will of the Citizens by lying with their wives.
Of his Death and Burial.
WHether it began from his mind, being extremely troubled with the injurious dealing of • he King of France ; or from his body, by intemperance of diet, to which he was much given; he fell into a sickness, (some say a Catarche, some a Feaver) but into a sickness whereof he died. In the time of which sickness, & at the very point of his death, Sir Thomas Moore makes him to make a speech to his Lord's; which I might think to be the speech of a sick man, if it were not so sound, and of a weak man, if it were not so long: but it seems, Sir Thomas Moore delivers rather what was fit for him to say, than what he said; the Contents being only, to exhort his Lord's, whom he knew to be at variance, to be in love and concord amongst themselves; for that, the welfare of his children, whom he must now leave to their care, could not otherwise be preserved but by their agreement. And having spoken to this purpose as much as his weakness would suffer him, he found himself sleepy; and turning on one side, he fell into his long sleep, the ninth of April, in the year 1483. when he had lived one and forty years, Reigned two and twenty and one mo • eth; and was buried at Windsor, in the new Chapel, whose foundation himself had laid.
Of men of Note in his time.
MEN of valor in his time were many, but himself the chiefest, the rest may be observed in reading his story. For men of letters, we may have leave at this time to speak of some strangers, having been men of extraordinary fame; as Johannnes de Monte Regi • , Purbachiu • and Bl •• chinu • , all great Astronomers; Ludovicus Pontanus, Paulus Castrensis, and A • thonius Rossellanus, all great Lawyers; Servisanus, Sava • arola, and Barzizius, all great Physicians; Bessarion and Cusanus, both great Cardinals; Argyr • pole, Philelphus, Datus, Leonardus Aretinus, and Poggius, all great men in human lit • rature. And of our own Countrymen; John Harding an E • quire, borne in the North parts, who wrote a Chronicle in English verse, and among o • her special points therein touched, hath gathered all the Submissions and Homages made by the Scottish kings, even from the days of King Athelstan : whereby it may evide ••• y appear, how the Scottish kingdom, even in manner, from the first Establish • ng thereof here in Britain, hath been appertaining unto the kings of England, and holden of them as their chief and superior Lord's. Julian Bemes, a Gentlewoman of excellent gifts, who wrote certain Treatises of Hawking and Hunting; also a book of the L • wes of Arms, and knowledge pertaining to Hera • lds. John For •• scue a Judge, and Chancellor of England, who wrote divers Treatises concerning the Law and Politick Government. Rochus a Charterhouse -Monk born in London, who wrote divers Epigrams. Walter H • nt a Carmelite Friar, who for his excellent learning, was sent from the whole body of the Realm, to the General Counsel h • ld •• fir •• at Ferr • ra, and after at Florence, by Pope E • genius the fourth; where • e am • ngs • others dis • uted with the Greeks i • defense of the Order and Ceremo •• es o • the Latin Church. William Caxton, who wrote a Chronicle called Fructu • Temporum, and an Appendix unto Trevisa besides divers other books and translations. John Milverton, a Carmelit • Frier of Bristow, and provincial of his Order, who because he defended such of his Order as preached against endowments of the Church with Temporal possessions, was committed to prison in the Castle of Saint Angel • in Rome, where he continued three years. David Morgan a Welshman, who wrote of the Antiquities of Wales, and a description of the Country. John Tiptoft, a nobleman born, who wrote divers Treatises, but lost of his head in the year 1471. Robert Huggon born in Norfolk, who wrote certain vain Prophesies. Thomas Norto • born in Bristow, an Alchemist • Scoga •• a learned Gentleman, and a Student for a time in Oxford ; who for his pleasant wit and merry conceits, was called to Court. But most worthy of all to be remembered, Thomas Littleton a reverend Judge of the Common Ple • s, who brought a great part of the Law into a Method, whic • lay before confusedly dispersed; and his book called Littletons Tenures.
THE REIGNE OF KING EDWARD THE FIFTH.
K ING Edward the Fourth being dead, his eldest Son Edw ••• , scarce yet eleven ye •• old, succeeded in the kingdom, but not in the Crown; for he was Proclaimed king, but never Crowned: and indeed it may not so properly be called the Reign of E •••• d • he fifth, as the Tyranny of Richard the Third; for from the time of king Edward • death, though not in Name, yet in effect • he not only ruled as king, but raged as a Tyrant. Prince Edwa •• when his Father died, was at Ludlow in Wales, where he had lived some time before, the better by his presence, to keep the Welsh in awe; He had about him of his Mothers kindred many; but Sir Anthony Woodvile, the Earl Rivers his Uncle, was appointed his chief Counselor and directour. The Duke of Gloucester was at this time in the North, but had word presently sent him, from the Lord Hastings Lord Chamberlain, of his brother king Edwards death; who acquainted him withal, that by his Will, he had committed the young king, his Queen and other children, to his care and government; and thereupon putting him in mind, 〈◊〉 necessary it was for him speed • lie to rep • ir • to London : But the Duke of Gloce •• er needed no spurr to set him forward, who was already in a full cariere; for he had long before projected in his mind, how he might come to attain the Crown; and now he thought the way was made him. For as it is said, the very night in which king Edward died, one Misselbrooke, long ere morning, came in great haste to the house of one Potter dwelling in Red-cross-street without Cripplegate ; where he shown unto Potter, that king Edward was departed: to whom Potter answered, By my troth man, then will my Master the Duke of Gloucester be king: what cause he had so to think, is hard to say; but surely it is not likely he spake it of naught. And now the young king was coming up to London with a strong guard; partly to make a first expression of his greatness, and partly to oppose any disorders that might be offered. But the Duke of Gloucester finding this proceeding like to be a rub in his way, at least not fit for his designs, he presently falls to undermining; writes most loving letters to the Queen, protesting all humble and faithful service to the king and her, but withal persuading her, that this great guard about the king might be presently dismissed; which did but minister matter of suspicion, and would be apt to breed new jealousies in them who were now thoroughly reconciled. The Queen of a nature easy to be wrought upon, gives credit to his glozing letters; and thereupon sends in all haste to her Son, and to her brother the Lord Ri • ers ; requiring them by all means, for some causes to her known, to dismiss their g ••• d, (not • en •• oning by whose advice she writ them; which if she had done, they would never have done) but now upon her letters, they presently did; and came forward with o •• lie a sober company. And now is Glocesters first work 〈◊〉 but he knowing that the work yet behind was too great to be done by himself •• one, gets the D • ke of Buckingham and the Lord Hastings ; two of the greatest men of power at that time in the kingdom, to join with him in opinion, that it was not fit • he 〈◊〉 kindred should be so wholly about the king; and others of better blood and d ••• rt, to be estranged from him; and therefore by all means, fi • • o endeavor to • emove them: to which the Duke of Buckingham is easily wrought, upon a promise to have the Earldom of Hartford conferred upon him: and the Lord Hasting • not hardly, upon a hope by this means to cut off many, whom in king Edwards days 〈…〉 • ustly offended. And now another great work was done; It remains in 〈…〉 place, to put it in execution, which was presently this e • fected: The 〈◊〉 king had been at Northampton, and from thence was gone to Stonystratford, 〈◊〉 the two Dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham a • rived; but pretending the Town to be too little for the entertainment of their Comp • nies, they went back to ••• thampton, and alighted at the same In • e where the Earl Ryver • had taken up h • s lodging for that night, intending the next morning early to overtake the king. Upon this their accidental meeting, great shows of courtesy passed between them; and supper ended, the Dukes pretending weariness, retire to their lodgings, the Earl to his; but the Dukes being entered into their Chambers, enter into consultation 〈◊〉 their private friends, in which they spent a great part of the night, and then secretly get the keys of the Inn gates, suffering none to pass either in or out; whereof the Earl having notice by his Host, though he suspected the worst, yet setting a good countenance upon the matter, and trusting to his own Innocency, he bold • y went to the Duke of Glocesters Chamber, where he found the Duke of Buckingham and the rest closely set in counsel; with whom he expostulates the reason of this co •• se, to imprison him in his Inn against his will? b • t they instead of answer, c • mmand presently to lay hands on him, charging him with many crimes, whereof themselves were only guilty: And then taking order for his safe imprisonment, they speedily took horse, and came to Stonistratford, at such time as the king was taking horse, whom in all reverent manner they saluted: but presently in the kings presence, a quarrel is picked against the Lord Richard Grey, the kings half brother: The Duke of Buckingham making relation to the king, that he and the Marquess his brother, with the Earl Rivers the Queens brother, had endeavored and almost e • fected to draw to themselves the whole managing the affairs of the kingdom • , and to set variance between the Peers of the Realm: and particularly, that the L •• d Marquess without any warrant, had taken out of the Tower of London both Treasure and Armor, to a great quantity; but to what purpose, though they were ignorant, yet there was just cause to suspect it was to no good end: And therefore it was thought expedient by the advise of the Nobility, to attach him at Northamp ••• , to have him forth-coming to make his answer for these and many other his ev •• -b • ld actions; The king unable to sound the depth of these plots, mildly • aid 〈◊〉 him: What my brother Marquess hath done, I cannot say; but for my Uncle 〈◊〉 Brother here, I dare answer, that they are innocent of any unlawful practices 〈◊〉 against me or you. Oh (saith the Duke of Buckingham ) that hath been their 〈◊〉 , to keep their treachery from your • races knowledge: and thereupon • n • an •• y in the kings presence, they arrested the Lord Richard, Sir Thomas Vanghan, Sir Richard Hall, and brought the king and all his company back to Northampton, p ••• ing away a • l his old servants, and placing in their room • creatures of their own, whom they had power to command. At which • ealing, the young king wept, but it 〈◊〉 nothing; and to color the matter, the Duke of Gloucester at dinner, sent a dish from his own table to the Lord Rivers, bidding him • e of good cheer, for all 〈◊〉 should be well: but the Lord Rivers thanking the Duke, prayed the Messenger to carry it to the Lord Richard, with the same message for his comfort, as one to whom such adversity was strange; but as for himself, he had all his days been acquainted with it, and therefore could the better bear it. But for all this comfortable courtesy of the Duke of Gloucester, he sent the Lord Rivers, and the Lord Richard, with Sir Thomas Va • g ••• into the North Country, into divers places to prison, and afterward to Po • fres, where in Conclusion they were all beheaded.
And now the Duke of Gloucester having thus gotten the custody of the King, set forwards toward London, giving out by the way, that the Marquess and the Queens kindred had plotted the destruction of the king, and of all the ancient Nobility of the Realm, and to alter the Government of the Commonwealth; and that they were only imprisoned to be brought to their trial according to Law: and the better to settle these suggestions in the apprehension of the Vulgar, they brought along with them divers Carts laden with Armor, (of their own providing) with Dryfats and great Chests, wherein they reported to be treasure for the payment of soldiers; with which they so possessed the common-people, that all was believed for truth which was thus rumored: But the finest devise of all was, to have five of the Duke of Glocesters instruments manacled and pinioned like Traitors; and these in every place where the King lodged • to be dispersed and given out to be men of great birth, drawn into this vile plot of Treason by the Queens brother; who must seem to be penitent for their offense, and to confess their own guilt: and this devise continued acting till the king came to L • ndon, where their visards were pulled off, and the disguise was soon discovered.
The Queen in the mean time having intelligence of these doleful accidents, and fearing there were worse to follow, with her second Son and five D • ughters takes Sanctuary at Westminster : and the young king hearing of these things, with tears and sighs expressed his grief; but the Dukes making Protestation of their fidelity, and care of his safety, seemed only to marvel why he should be melancholy.
At this time a messenger came from the Lord Chamberlain, to the Archbishop of York Lord Chancellor of England, to signify to him, that there was no fear of anything, for that he assured him all should be well. Well (quoth the Archbishop) be it as well as it will; I assure him, It will never be so well as we have seen it. And thereupon, presently after the messengers departure, he calleth up his servants (being then in the night) and taking the great Seal with him, came before day to the Queen, whom he found sitting alone aloe on the Rushes, all desolate and dismayed; whom he comforted the best he could, a •• uring her that if they Crowned any king but her Son whom they had with them, he would presently after Crown his brother whom she had with her; and therewithal delivering to her the great Seal, departed: but soon after, bethinking himself better, he thought he had done too rashly, to deliver the great Seal to the Queen; and therefore sent for it again, and had it delivered him; yet shortly after reproved for delivering it, by the Counsel Table, he had it taken from him, which was then delivered to Doctor Russell Bishop of Lincoln, the most learned man of that time.
And now th • Duke of Gloucester so respectively carries himself towards the King, with so much show of care and faithfulness, that by a general consent of the Counsel he is appointed and established Protectour of the king and kingdom; and by this means he hath the king in his custody: It remains now how to get his brother the Duke of York, for without having both, he were as good (as to his purpose) have neither: and to effect this, he makes the Effect to become a Cause: for where by his undue dealing • he had made the king Melancholy, he now makes that Melancholy a cause to require his brothers company to make him merry; and therefore wishes some course may be taken, either by persuasion or otherwise, to procure the Queen to send the Duke of York to keep his brother the king company: Here the Archbishop of York the Lord Cardinal, the man thought most fit to be sent in this employment, riseth up and faith, He would do his best endeavor to persuade her; but if he could not, he then thought it was not to be attempted against her will, for that it would turn to the high displeasure of God, if the privilege of that holy place should now be broken, which had so many years inviolably been kept, which 〈◊〉 Kings and Popes so good had granted, so many had confirmed; and which holy ground was more then five hundred years ago, by Saint Peter in his own person, ac • ompani • d with great numbers of Angels, by night so specially hallowed and dedicated to God; and for proof whereof, there is yet in the Abby Saint Peters Cope 〈◊〉 show: that from that time hitherward, there never was so undevo •• a King that durst violate the sacred place, nor so holy a Bishop that durst presume to Consecrate it • and therefore (saith he) God forbid, that any man for any earthly thing, should enterprise to break the immunity and liberty of that sacred Sanctuary; and I trust w •• h God's grace, we shall not need it, at least my endeavors shall not be wanting; if the Moth • rs dread and womanish fear be not the let. Womanish fear, nay womanish frowardness (quoth the Duke of Buckingham ) for I dare take it upon my Soul, she well knoweth there is no need of any fear, either for her son or for herself • and prosecuting his discourse, declareth at large, that as there was no just 〈◊〉 for the Queen to keep her Son, so there was great cause for them to require him; and that for breach of Sanctuary in this case there could be none; for that he had often heard of Sanctuary men, but never heard of Sanctuary children. And to this purpose having spoken much, It was all assented to by the Lord's that were present, and with this Instruction is the Archbishop (upon whom the Queen specially relied) sent unto her; who after humble salutations, acquaints her with his message, earn •• lie persuading her not to oppose the Lord Protectours request, and giving her many reasons, first that she ought not, and then that she could not keep him in Sanctuary: she answered all his reasons, though with great mildness, yet with great earnestness; so as the Archbishop finding little hope to prevail with her by persuasion, turns the tenor of his speech another way; telling her plainly, that if she did not consent to send her Son, he doubted some sharper course would speed • lie be taken. This warning sank so deep into the Queens mind, that after a little pausing, taking her Son by the hand, she said, My Lord Archbishop, here he is, for my own part I will never deliver him; but if you will needs have him, Take him, and at your hands I will require him; and therewith weeping bitterly, Deer child (saith she) let me kiss thee before we part, God knows whether ever we shall meet again; and so the child weeping as fast as she, went along with the Archbishop to the Starchamber, where the Lord Protectour and other Lord's had staid all the while looking for his coming back: and as soon as he was entered the room, the Protectour spying the child, riseth up and embraceth him saying, Deere Nephew, Now welcome with all my heart: next to my Sovereign Lord your brother, nothing gives me so much contentment as your Presence: and we may believe him, he spake as he thought; for now he had the prey which he so much desired. A few days after, pretending to have them lodged in a place of more security, until the distempers of the Commonwealth might better be quieted; he caused them in great pomp and state to be conveyed through London to the Tower, there at pleasure to remain, till the time of Coronation; whereof there was great show of preparation made.
But now the great work is to be done; the Princes are to be made away: and how to have it done, Hoc opus, hic labor est: there must be potent Instruments; and none so potent as the Duke of Buckingham ; and he, by a match to be concluded betwixt their children, and an equal partition of the Treasure of the Realm betwixt them two; not only is drawn to condescend, but is most forward to contrive and plot stratagems to effect it. The first rub in the way was the Lord Hastings ; who being sound so firm to his old Masters King Edwards sons, that nothing could remove him, it was fit to remove him out of the way; which was done in this manner: All the Lord's of the Privy Council, in the Protectors name, are convoked to the Tower; where • itting preparations for the Coronation of the young King are proposed, until the Protectour came in; who taking his chair, very affably saluted them, merrily jesting with some, and more than ordinarily ple • sant with them all: when after a little talk, he said to the Bishop of Eli ; My Lord, I hear you have very good Strawberries at your Garden in Holborne; I pray let us have a mess of them. Most gladly (said the Bishop) and presently sent for some: and then the Protectour rising up, prayed the Lord's to spare his absence a little; and so departed. Within the sp • ce of an hour he returned; but so changed in countenance, and with such inward perturbations, which with sighings and other passionate gestures he expressed so, that it made them all to marvel. After long silence (the better to prepare them to the more attention) he confusedly interrogates • What they deserved that ne • ariously had pr • ctised his destruction? This unexpected interrogation struck such ama • ement amongst the Lord's, that they all sat gazing on one another, and were, as • t were, stricken dumb: At length the Lord Hastings, by Buckinghams instigatio • , as one presuming of his intimacy with the Protector, boldly answered, That they deserved the punishment of Traitors; which all the rest by their silence approved: whereat the Protectour riseth up, and with a stern look upon the Lord Hastings, replied: Why it is the old sorceresse my brothers widow, and her partner that common Strumpet Jane Shore, that have by incantation conspired to be • eave me of my life; and though by God's grace I have escaped the end of their malice, yet see the mischief they have done me; for behold (and then he bared his left arm to the elbow, and shown it) how they have caused this dear limb of mine to wither, an • grow useless; and so should all my body have been served, if they might have had their will a little longer. Those to whom the Queens religious courses were not unknown, a • d who knew his withered arm to have been such from his birth, • at • gazing one upon another, not knowing what to think or say; until the Lord Hastings, thinking thereby to leave all blame upon the Queen, and excuse his Paramour Mistress Shore, (whom ever since the death of King Edward, he had entertained for his bed-fellow, and had but that morning parted from her) with a sober look submissely said, If the Queen have conspired —: which word was no sooner cut of the Lord Hastings mouth, when the Protectour clapping his hand upon the board, and frowningly looking upon him, said: Tellest thou me of If & And? I tell thee, They, and none but they have done it; and thou thyself art partaker of the villainy. Who I my Lord, quoth he? yea Thou traitor, quoth the Protectour; and therewith, upon a watch-word given, those prepared before for that purpose, in the outer Chamber, cried, Treason, Treason! when presently a great number of men in arm • came rushing in as it were to guard the Protectour; one of which with a Pollax struck a main blow at the Lord St • nley and wounded him on the head; and had slain him outright, if he had not avoided the stroke by slipping backward, and falling down to the ground. Forthwith the Protectour arrested the Lord Hastings of high Treason; and wisht him to make haste to be Confessed, for he swore by S. Paul (his usual Oath) that he would not touch bread nor drink till his head were off. It booted no • to ask, why? for he knew the Protectours actions were not to be examined. So he was led forth unto the Green before the Chapel within the Tower, where his head was laid down upon a long logge of Tymber, and there stricken off. His body afterward with his head were interred at Windsor, beside the body of King Edward. In this man's death we may see how inevitable the blows of Destiny are: for the very night before his death, the Lord Stanley sent a secret messenger to him at midnight, in all the haste, to acquaint him with a Dream he had, in which he thought that a Bore with his tusks so gored them both by the heads, that the blood ran about their shoulders: and for-as-much as the Protectour gave the Bore for his Cognisance, this Dream made so fearful an impression in his heart, that he was thoroughly resolved to stay no longer; and had made his horse ready, requiring the Lord Hastings to go with him, and that presently, to be out of danger, before it should be day. But the Lord Hastings answered the messenger: Good Lord! leaneth your Master so much to such trifles, to put such faith in dreams, which either his own fear fanta • ieth, or else do rise in the nights rest, by reason of the days thoughts: Go back therefore to thy Master, and commend me to him, and pray him to be merry, and have no fear; for I assure him, I am as sure of the man he woe • • eth of, as of my own hand. The man he meant, was one Catesby, well learned in the Laws of the Land; who by his favor was grown into good authority in Leicestershire, where the Lord Hastings Estate lay. Of this man he m • de himself so sure, • hat he thought nothing could be plotted against him, which he would not presently reveal unto him. But this man deceived him; and was grown so inward with the Protectour, that being set by the Protectour to draw him to be a party in his designs, and finding he could not do it, was himself the first mover to rid him out of the way. Another warning the Lord Hastings had: the same morning in which he was beheaded, his horse twice or thrice stumbled with him, almost to falling; which though it often happen to such to whom no mischance is toward, yet hath it of old been observed as a token foregoing some great misfortune. Also at the Tower-wharfe, near to the place where his head soon after was stricken off, he met with one Hastings a Pursuivant of his own name; to whom he said: Ah Hastings, dost thou remember I met thee here once with a heavy heart! Yea my Lord, saith he, I remember it well; and God be thanked, that time is past. In faith, man, said the Lord Hastings, I never stood in so great dread of my life, as I did when thou and I met here: and loe how the world is changed! now stand my Enemies in the danger, as thou mayest hap to hear hereafter; (for the Enemies he meant were the Lord Rivers, and other of the Queens kindred, who that very day were beheaded at Pomfret ) and I never so merry, nor in so good surety as now I am. That we may know, there is not a greater Omen or sign of ill fortune, than to presume of good. And indeed, such is the uncertainty of our estate in this life, that we seldom know when we are in a Tempest at Sea, nor when we are in a Calm on shore; thinking ourselves oftentimes most safe, when we are most in danger; and oftentimes to be in danger, when we are most safe: He only is in the true Haven, that can say as Christ teacheth us, Thy will be done in Earth as it is in Heaven.
But this Lord being thus put to death; the Lord Protectour, to color the matter, immediately after dinner, in all haste sent for many substantial Citizens; at whose coming, himself with the Duke of Buckingham stood harnessed in old rusty Brigandines, to make a show they were forced by the sudden danger to take such as they could first come by: and withal, a Herald of Arms is sent with a Proclamation in the Kings name, signifying, that the Lord Hastings with some others had conspired the same day to have slain the Lord Protector and the Duke of Buckingham, as they sat in Counsel; and after to have taken upon them to rule the King a • d Kingdom at their own pleasures. Now was this Proclamation made within two hours after the Lord Hastings was beheaded; and was so curiously indicted, and so so fair written in Parchment, and withal so long, that every child might perceive it was prepared before: which made one that was Schoolmaster of Paul's, standing by when the Proclamation was read, to say, Here is a gay goodly Cast, foul cast away for haste: To whom a Merchant answered, It was written by Prophesy. And now by and by, as it were in revenge of her offense, the Protectour sent the Sheriffs of Lo • do • into the house of Shores wife, and spoiled her of all her goods, above the value of three thousand marks; and then conveying her through London to the Tower, there left her Prisoner: where he laid to her charge, that she went about to bewitch him, and was of counsel with the Lord Hastings to destroy him. In conclusion, she was laid into Ludgate, and by the Bishop of London put to open Penance for incontinency; going before the Cross in Procession, upon a Sunday, with a Taper in her hand: in which, although she were out of all array, save her ki • tle only; yet went she so fair and lovely, and withal so womanly and demurely, that m • ny who hated her course of life, yet pitied her course usage, and were not a little grieved to see her misery. And indeed, this may be said in her behalf: that being in extraordinary favor with King Edward, yet she never used it to the hurt of any, but to the relief of many: and was ever a Mediator, an Oppressor never.
Now it was so contrived by the Protectour, that the very day in which • he Lord Hastings was beheaded at London, and about the very same hour, there were beheaded at Pomfret, the Lord Rivers and the other Lord's and Knights that were taken from the King at Northampton and Stonistratford ; which was done in the presence, and by the order of Sir Richard Ratcliffe knight, whose service the Protectour specially used in that business; who bringing them to the Scaffold, and not suffering them to declare their innocence, lest their words might have inclined men to hate the Protectour, caused them hastily without Judgment or Order of Processe to be beheaded.
When these were thus rid out of the way, then thought the Protectour that now was the time to put himself in possession of the Crown: but all the study was, by what means this matter being so hein • us in it self, might be broken to the people, in such wise, as that it might be well taken: for which purpose, It was thought fit to call to this Counsel Ed ••• d Sh •• knight the then Major of London ; who upon promise of advancement, should frame the people's inclination to it. And because Spiritual men are best hearkened to for matters of Conscience, some of them were used also; amongst whom, choice was made of John Shaw Clerk, brother to the Major; Friar Penker, Provincial of the Order of the Augustine Friars: both great P •• achers, both of more learning then virtue, of more fame then learning. These two were appointed to preach, the one at Paul's Cross, the other at the Spittle, in praise of the Protectour: Penker in his Sermon so lost his voice, that he was saine to leave off and come down in the midst: Shaw by his Sermon lost his reputation, and soon after his life, for he never after durst come abroad, for very shame of the world.
But now was all the labor and study, to find out some convenient pretext, for which the people should be content to have the Prince deposed, and the Protectour be received for King; to which purpose many things were devised; the chief was to allege bastardy either in King Edward himself, or in his children, or in both • To • ay bastardy to King Edward, sounded openly to the reproach of the Protectours own Mother, who was Mother to them both; he would therefore that point should more favourably be handled: but the other point concerning the bastardy of his children, he would have enforced to the uttermost: The ground whereof was, that King Edward had been formerly contracted to the Lady Elizabeth Lucie, by whom he had a child; though the said Lady, having been examined about it, confessed plainly, they were never assured. Yet upon this pretext, Doctor Shaw taking for his Text, Bastard Plants shall take no deep root ; in his Sermon declared, that King Edward was never lawfully married to the Queen, but was before God, husband to the Lady Elizabeth Lucie, and so his children bastards. And besides that, neither King Edward himself, nor the Duke of Clarence were reckoned very sure for the children of the noble Duke Richard, as those that by their favors more resembled other known men; but the Lord Protectour (saith he) is the fathers own figure • his own countenance, the very print of his visage, the plain express likeness of that noble Duke. Now, It was before devised, that just at the speaking of these words, the Protectour should have come, to the end that th • se words meeting with his presence, might be taken among the hearers, as though the Holy Ghost had put them in the Preachers mo • th, and so should move the poeple even then to cry, King Richard, King Richard that it might be after said, he was specially chosen by God, and in a manner by Miracle: but this devise failed; for whither by the Protectours slackness in coming, or the Doctors haste in Preaching, he had passed those words, and was gone to clean another matter, before the Protectour came; so as afterward seeing him come, he was • aine to leave the matter, he had in hand, and out of all order and frame begin to repeat those words again: This is the very noble Prince, the Fathers own figure, his own countenance, the very print of his visage, the plain express likeness of that noble Duke. While these words were in speaking, the Pro • e • tour accompanied with the Duke of Buckingham, passed through the people into the place where the Doctors sit; and there sat to hear the Sermon: but the people were • o far from crying King Richard, that they cried shame on the Preacher, for abusing his sacred function with so shameful a Sermon.
The Tuesday following this Sermon, the Duke of Buckingham with divers Lord's and Knights came to the Guildhall in London ; and there before the Major and whole assembly of Citizens, made a very solemn and long Oration, wherein he recited many grievances of the late King Edwards Government, his many unnecessary Taxations and unjust severities; thereby to bring his children into hatred: and then re • embred them of the late Sermon made at Paul's Cross, by a learned Doctor; who clearly shown the bastardy of King Edwards children; and that Richard Duke of Gloucester was the only rightful and indubitate heir to the Crown of England : which the Lord's of the Kingdom having taken into their consideration, had thereupon agreed to accept him for their King; and now himself was come to acquaint them with it, and to require their consents. Which Oration ended, all men stood wondering at the motion, but no man offered to speak a word. At which the Duke marvelling, as supposing the Major had prepared them before; he asked the Major privately, what this silence meant? who answered, that perhaps they had not heard or understood what it was he said. Whereupon the Duke with a more a • dible voice repeated the same matter again, in a more earnest and plain expression; yet neither did that move them to show any inclination to the motion. Then the Duke whispering with the Major, It was thought, that the Citizens being used to have such motions made them by their Recorder, they would better it from him; and thereupon the Recorder is commanded to move them in it: but the Recorder (called Fitzwilliams ) being an honest man and newly come to his place; repeated only as near as he could the words of the Duke, but added nothing of his own; so as neither did this move the people to break their silence. At last, the Duke seeing their resolved • ullennesse, told them plainly, that all the Nobility and Commons of the Realm were agreed to choose the Protectour for their King, as the true and undoubted heir; so as he needed not to have moved them to it, but only for the great respect they all bare to this honorable City; and therefore required them plainly to speak their minds, whether they would join with them in this choice or no. At this, certain servants of the Dukes, and other of their procuring, standing at the lower end of the Hall, cast up their Caps, and cried aloud, King Richard, King Richard ; whereat, though the whole multitude of Citizens marvelled what they meant; yet the Duke taking advantage of it, as of an unanimous conset: A goodly cry (saith he) and thanked them all for their universal approbation; promising he would acquaint the Protectour with the great love they shown toward him: and then requiring the Major and chief Citizens to meet him the next morning at Baynards Castle, where the Protectour then lay; there to join with him, in Petitioning the Protectour to accept of this their freely proffered subjection; he took his leave and so departed.
The next morning according to appointment, they all meet at Baynards Castle; where the Duke of Buckingham sends up word to the • . Protector, th •• himself with the L. Major & his Brethren, were come to present a Supplication to him, concerning a business of great importance: but the Protectour though (preacquainted with all passages, yet made it strange what their Supplication should be; and answered, that though he suspected nothing which the Duke of Buckingham presented to him; yet he desired at least some some slight in • imation to what it might tend. To this it was answered, that the business they came about was to be made known to himself in Person; and therefore humbly besought him of admission in his presence: Upon this, as if not yet well assured of their well meaning towards him; he appears unto them in an upper Gallery, making semblance as though he would prevent all danger, by standing something aloof and in his Fort: To whom the Duke of Bucking ••• , in behalf of the Major and Nobility there present; in most respective and re • erent manner makes req • est, that his Grace would pardon what he should deliver to him: and much circumstance he used, before he would discover their cause of • omming: but though long first, yet at last, he told it: That in respect of the urgent nec • ss • ties of the Common-wealth, they all humbly entreated him to take upon him the Government of the Kingdom, as in his own Right, to whom they all tendered their Allegiance. At which words, the Protectour starting back, as if he had heard something most unpleasing to him, passionately answered: I little thought, good Cozen, that you of all men would have moved me to a matter which of all things in the world I most decline: Far be it from to accept of that, which without apparent wrong to my dear deceased brothers sweet children, and my own upright Conscience, I cannot well approve of. And then being about to proceed in his premeditated di •• imulation; the Duke in a seeming abrupt passion, kneeling upon his knee, said; Your Grace was pleased to give me free liberty to deliver unto you, in the name of this worthy assembly, the tender of their •• tifull obedience to you: but I must further add, that it is unanimously resolved on, that your late brother King Edwards children, as being generally known to be Illegitimate, shall never be admitted to the Crown of England ; and therefore if your Grace shall neither regard yourself, nor us so much, as to accept it, we are directly determined to confer it upon some other of the House of L •• caster, that will be more sensible of his own and our good. These words wrought so powerfully upon the Protectours passions; that with some change of Countenance, and not without a seeming reluctance, he said; Since I perceive the whole Realm is so resolved, by no mean • to admit my deer Nephews, being but children, to Reign over you; and seeing the Right of succession belongs justly to me, as the indubi • ate Heir of Richard Plantagenet Duke of York, my Illustrious Father: We are contented to condescend to your importunities, and to accept of the Royal Government of the Kingdom, and will to the uttermost of my power endeavor to procure and maintain the welfare thereof. And having so said, he came down from his Gallery, and very formally saluted them all: which so pleased the giddy multitude, that presently they fell to acclamations, Long live King Richard our dread Sovereign Lord • and then every man departed.
THE REIGNE OF KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
I T was now the eighteenth day of June, in the year 1483. when Richard Duke of Gloucester took upon him the Crown: so as the imaginary Rain of Edward the fifth, continued but just ten weeks. The next day, King Richard with a great train went to Westminster-hall, and placed himself in the Court of the Kings Bench, saying, he would take the Crown upon him in that place where the King himself sitteth and ministereth the Law; because he considered that it is the chiefest duty of a King to administer the Laws: And here to get the love of the people by a feigned clemency; he sent for one Fogge out of Sanctuary, who for fear of his displeasure was fled thither; and there in the fight of all the people, caused him to kiss his hand.
After his return home, he took to wife the Lady Anne, youngest daughter of the great Warwick, and the relict of Prince Edward, son of Henry the sixth; though • he could not be ignorant, that he had been the Author both of her husbands and 〈◊〉 death. But women's affections are Eccentrick to common apprehension; whereof the two Poles are Passion and Inconstancy.
Against his Coronation he had sent for five thousand men out of the North; and these being come under the leading of Robin of Riddesdale, upon the fourth of July • together with his new bride, he went from Baynards Castle to the Tower by wa ••• , where he created Edward his Son a child of ten years old, Prince of Wales • 〈◊〉 Lord Howard Duke of Norfolk, his Son Sir Thomas Howard Earl of Surry • 〈◊〉 Lord Berckley Earl of Nottingham, Francis Lord Lovell Viscount Lovell, 〈…〉 Chamberlane, and the Lord Stanley (who had been committed pri • oner to the • ower, in regard his Son the Lord Strange was reported to have levied forces 〈…〉 ) not only that day was released out of prison, but was made Lord 〈◊〉 of his Househould. The Archbishop of York was likewise then delivered; but Morton B • shop of Eli (as one that could not be drawn to the disinheriting of 〈◊〉 Edwards children) was committed to the Duke of Buckingham, who sent him to his Castle of Brecknock in Wales, there to be in custody. The same night were made seventeen knights of the Bath, Edmund the Duke of Suffolkes son, George Gray the Earl of Kents son, Willia • the Lord Zouches son, Henry Aburga •••• Christopher Willoughby, Henry Babington, Thomas Arundell, Thomas Boleigne, Gerv •• Clifton, William • ay, Edmund Bedingfield, William Enderly, Thomas Lewku •• , Th • m •• of Vrmond, John Bromne, and William Berckley. The next day, being the fifth o • July, the King rode through the City of London to Westminster, being accompanied with the Dukes of Norfolk, Buckingham, and Suffolk ; the Earls of Northu • b • rland, Arundell, Kent, Surrey, Will • shire, Huntingdon, Nottingh • m, Warwick, and Lincol •• the Viscounts Liste and Lovell ; the Lord's Stanley, A • dely, D • cres, Pe •• ers of Chartley, Powis, Scroope of • psale, Scroope of Bolton, Gray of Codner, Grey, of Wilton, Sturton, Cobham, Morley, Burgeveny, Zouch, Ferrers of Croby, Wells, Lumley, Matr • verse, Herbert and Beckham, and fourscore Knights. On the morrow, being the sixth of July, the King with Queen An • e his wife, came down out of the White-Hall, into the Great Hall at Westminster, and went directly to the Kings Bench; and from thence, going upon Ray-clothe, bare-footed, went unto St. Edwards shrine, all his Nobility going with him, every Lord in his degree. The Bishop of Rochester bore the Cross before the Cardinal: Then followed the Earl of Huntingdon, be • ng a pair of gilt-spurs, signifying Knighthood: Then followed the Earl of ••• ford, bearing St. Edwards sta • fe, for a Relique: After him came the Earl of ••• thumberland bare-headed, with the pointl • sse sword naked in his hand, signifying Mercy: The Lord Stanley bare the Mace of the Constableship: The Earl of Ken • bare the second sword, on the right hand of the King, naked, with a point; which signified Justice to the Temporalty: The Lord Lovell bore the third sword on the Kings left hand, with a point; which signified Justice to the Clergy: The Duke of Suffolk followed with the Scepter in his hand, which signified Peace: The Earl of Lincoln bore the Ball and Cross, which signified Monarchy: The Earl of S • rry bore the fourth sword before the King, in a rich scabbard; which is called the sw •• d of Estate: Then went three together; in the midst went Gartar king of Arms, in his rich Coat; and on his right hand went the Major of London, • earing a Mace; and on his left hand went the Gentleman-Usher of the Privy Chamber: Then followed the Duke of Norfolk, bearing the kings Crown between his hands: Then followed king Richard in his robes of Purple-velvet, and over his head a Canopy, bor • e by four Barons of the Cinque-Ports; and on each side of the king went a Bishop • on one side, the Bishop of Bath ; on the other, of Durham: Then followed the Duke of Buckingham, bearing the kings train, with a white staff in his hand, signifying the office of High Steward of England. Then followed the Queens train, before whom was borne the Scepter, the Ivory rod, with the Dove, (signifying innocence) and the Crown: herself appareled in robes like the kings, under a rich Canopy, at every corner thereof a bell of gold: On her head she wore a circlet, set full of precious stones, the Countess of Richmond bearing her train; the Dutchesses of Norfolk and Suffolk in their Coronets, attending; with twenty Ladies of Estate most richly attired. In this order they passed the Palace into the Abbey: and going up to the High Altar, there shifted their robes; and having other robes open in divers places from the middle upward, were both of them Anoynted and Crowned: and then after the Sacrament received, (having the host divided betwixt them) they both offered at St. Edwards shrine; where the king left St. Edwards Crown, wherewith he had been Crowned, and put on his own: and this done, in the same order and state as they came, they returned to Westminster-hall, and there held a most Princely feast: at the second course whereof, there came into the Hall Sir Robert Dymock the kings Champion, making Proclamation, that whosoever would say th •• king Richard was not lawful king of England, he was there ready to prove it against him; and thereupon threw down his Gantlet: and then all the Hall cried, king Richard, king Richard. And thus with some other Ceremonies, the Coronation ended; and the king and Queen returned to their lodgings.
Presently after this, king Richard sent a solemn Ambassage to Lewis king of France, to conclude a Leag • e and Amity with him: but the French king so abhorred him and his cruelty, that he would not so much as see, or hear his •• b • ssadors; but sent them away with shame, in disgrace of their Master.
At this t • me, with his Queen, he made a Progress of Gloucester, under color to 〈…〉 of his old Honor; but indeed, to be out of the way, having a special 〈…〉 to be acted: for though he had satisfied his Ambition, by depriving his 〈◊〉 Nephews of their livelihoods; yet it satisfied not his Fear, if he deprived 〈…〉 also of their lives. For effecting whereof, his old friend the Duke of Buck •••••• was no fit instrument; it must be one of a baser metal: and to find out 〈…〉 henceded not go far; For upon inquiry, he was told of two that lay 〈…〉 it Chamber to him; Sir Thomas and Sir James Tyrrell • two brothers, like 〈…〉 , not more near in blood, than different in conditions; of equal 〈…〉 of personage both, but not of equal goodness of mind; Sir Thomas 〈◊〉 of in honest and sober disposition; but Sir James of a turbulent spirit, and one 〈…〉 after preferment, would not stick to make a fortune out of any villainy. 〈◊〉 told of this man, as he was sitting at the close-stool, he presently ro • e and 〈◊〉 to him: where being met, the ma • ch is soon made up between them; for he 〈◊〉 Sir James more ready to undertake the work, than he was himself to set him 〈◊〉 it. It only remained, to procure him free passage to the place where the 〈◊〉 was to be done: for King Richard had formerly sent a trusty Privado of his, 〈◊〉 John Green, to Sir Robert Brackenbury then Lieutenant of the Tower; think 〈…〉 , having been raised by him, would not have refused to do the deed himself, but when he heard how averse he was from it, Good Lord (saith he) whom 〈◊〉 man trust? Once he saw plainly, that whilst he was Lieutenant, there was 〈…〉 to effect it. To remove therefore this Rub, he sends his Letters Man •••• to Br • ckenbury, to deliver presently the keys of the Tower to Sir James 〈◊〉 : who being now Lieutenant for the time, and having the two innocent 〈◊〉 under his custody; gets two other, as very villains as himself; the one 〈…〉 , the other James Dighton his horse-keeper, a big sturdy knave: and 〈…〉 makes his under-agents; who coming into the children's chamber in the 〈◊〉 , (for they were suffered to have none about them, but one Black- Will, or 〈◊〉 •••• ghter, a bloody rascal) they suddenly lapped them up in their clothes, 〈…〉 down by force the featherbed and pillows hard unto their mouths, so 〈…〉 , that their breath failing, they gave up their innocent soul; to God: 〈◊〉 when the mur • herers perceived, first by their struggling with the pains of 〈◊〉 , and then by their long lying still, to be thoroughly dead; they laid their bodies out upon the bed, and then fetched Sir James to see them; who presently caused their bodies to be buried under the stairs, under a heap of stones: from whence they were afterward removed to a place of Christian burial, by a Priest of Sir Robert 〈◊〉 ; who dying within a few days after, and none knowing the place but 〈◊〉 , was cause that it hath not been known to this day; and gave occasion afterward •• the Imposture of Perkin Warbeck, in King Henry the Seventh's Raign. Some 〈◊〉 , that king Richard caused their bodies to be taken up, and closed them in lead, and then to be put in a Cossin full of holes, hooked at the ends with Iron; and so 〈…〉 a place called the Black Deepes, at the Thames mouth, to be sure they should 〈◊〉 rise up, not be seen again. And now see the Divine revenge upon the actors 〈…〉 •• cerable murder: Miles Forest, at St. Martins le Grand, piece-meal rot ••• away: Dighton lived at Calais a long time after; but detested of all men, died 〈◊〉 misery: Sir James Tyrrell was beheaded afterward on the Tower-hill for 〈◊〉 and king Richard himself, after this abhominable fact done, never had 〈◊〉 mind; troubled with fearful dreams, and would sometimes in the night 〈◊〉 of his bed, and run about the Chamber in great fright, as if all the Furies of 〈◊〉 were hanging about him: that it was verified in him, • ltrix Tisiphone vocat 〈◊〉 seva sororum.
Con •• deracies in evil are seldom long-lived, and commonly end in a reciprocal 〈◊〉 : and so was it now with king Richard and the Duke of Buckingham : They had confederated together to the destruction of many; and now their confederacy dissolves in both their ruins: but what the cause was of their dissolving, is not so certain: whether it were that the Duke thought not himself so well rewarded, as his great services had deserved; or whether it were, that King Richard thought not himself absolute King, as long as the Duke, by whose means he came to be King, was in such a height of greatness; or whether it were (as was rather thought) that the Duke being a man ambitious and of an aspiring spirit; though he had himself been the means to bring King Richard to the Crown; yet when the Crown was put upon his head, so envied at it, that he turned his head another way, • s not enduring the sight; and for the same ca • se, was willing not to have been present at the Coronation, pretending sickness in excuse of his absence; but that King Richard sent him a sharp Message, requiring him to come or he would fetch him: whereupon the Duke went, but with so ill a mind, that he bore it in mind ever after. Whatsoever it was, certain it is, that presently after the Coronation, there grew great jealousies between them; and the Duke retired himself to his Castle at Brecknock, where he had the Bishop of Eli in custody. And here we may observe the unsearchable depth of the divine Providence; the bottom whereof, the soundest judgment of Man can never sound, as working effects by contrary causes: for where King Richard had committed the Bishop to the Duke, as to one that would have a most watchful eye over him; This which the King did for the Bishops greater punishment, proved a means afterward of the Bishops greater advancement, and a means at the present of King Richards ruin. For the Duke being retired home, and having his head so full of thoughts, that of necessity it required • ent; for his own recreation, would sometimes fall in talk with the Bishop; with whose discourse (as he was a man of great wit and solid judgment) the Duke was so taken, tha • he grew to delight in nothing more then to be conferring with him. One time it happened, that the Duke had opened his mind something freely to him; and the Bishop following him in his own way, and cunningly working upon that humor of the Duke, which he found most working in the Duke; which he conceived to grow out of envy to king Richard : he said to this purpose; My Lord, you know I followed first the part of king Henry the sixth, and if I could have had my wish, his Son should have had the Crown, and not king Edward : But after that God had ordained king Edward to Reign; I was never so mad, that I would with a dead man strive against the quick. And so was I to king Edward also a faithful Chaplain, and glad would have been that his child had succeeded him: How be it, if the s • cret Judgment of God have otherwise provided; I purpose not to labor to set up that which God pulleth down. And as for the Lord Protectour, and now King • ; and even there he left: saying, he had already meddled too much with the world; and would from that day meddle with his Books and his Beads, and no further. Then longed the Duke exceedingly to hear what he would have said; because he ended with the king, and there suddenly stopped: and thereupon entreated him to be bold to say whatsoever he thought; whereof he faithfully promised there should never come hurt, and peradventure more good then he would think; and withal, that himself intended to use his secret Counsel; which (he said) was the only cause for the which he had procured of the king to have him in his custody. The Bishop humbly thanked him, and said: In good faith my Lord, I love not to talk much of Princes, as a thing not all out of peril, though the word be without fault, for so much as it shall not be taken as the party meant it, but as it pleaseth the Prince to construe it. And ever I think on Aesop's Tale, that when the Lyon had proclaimed on pain of death, that no horned beast should abide in a certain Wood; one that had in his forehead a bunch of flesh, fled away a geart pace: the Fox that saw him run so fast, asked him whither he made all that haste? who answered, in faith I neither wot nor reck, so I were once hence, because of the Proclaimation made of horned beasts: why fool, (quoth the Fox) thou mayest abide well enough, the Lyon meant it not by thee, for it is no horn that is in thy head: No mary (quoth he) that wote I well enough; but what if he call it a horn, where am I then? The Duke laughed at the Tale, and said; My Lord, I warrant you, neither the Lyon not the Bore shall pick any matter at anything here spoken; for it shall never come near their ear. Then said the Bishop, In good faith Sir, if it did, the thing I was about to say, taken as well as a fore God I meant it, could deserve but thank; and yet taken as I ween it would, might happen to turn me to little good, and you to les • e. Then longed the Duke much more, to hear what it was: whereupon the Bishop said, My Lord, as for the late Protectour, since he is now king in Possession, I purpose not to dispute his title; but for the weal of the Realm, I could wish he had in him those excellent virtues which God hath planted in the person of your Grace: and there left again. The Duke somewhat marvelling at his sudden pause, said, My L. I cannot but note your sudden stopping in your speech, so as your words come not to any direct sentence, whereby I may have knowledge, eith • r what your inward intent is now toward the king, or what your affection is toward me: I therefore entreat you to use no more such obscurity, but plainly to disclose your mind unto me, who upon mine honor will be as secret in the case, as the deaf and dumb person is to the singer, or the Tree to the Hunter. The Bp. then upon confidence of the D. promise, said • my Lord, I plainly perceive, the kingdom being in the case as it is, under such a King as now we have, must needs decay and be brought to confusion; but one hope I have, that when I consider and daily behold your noble Personage, your Justice, your ardent love towards your Country, and in like manner the great love of your Country towards you; I must needs think this Realm fortunate, that hath such a Prince in store, meet and apt to be a Governor; in whose person consisteth the very undoubted Image of true honor. And then taxing the present king with many cruelties and oppressions, he concluded, saying: And now my Lord, if either you love God, your Linage, or your native Country, you must yourself take upon you the Crown and Imperial Diadem of this Realm; but if yourself will refuse to take it upon you, I then adjure you, by the faith you owe to God, and by the love you bear to your native Country, to devise some way, how the Realm may by your Princely policy be reduced to some convenient Regiment, under some good governor by you to be appointed: And if you could devise to set up again the Linage of Lanc • ster ; or advance the eldest daughter of King Edward to some puissant Prince: not only the new Crowned king should little enjoy the glory of his dignity, but all Civil War should cease, and Peace and Profit should again flourish. When the Bishop had ended his saying, the Duke sighed, and spake not of a good while; which sore abashed the Bishop, and made him change color: which the Duke perceiving, he said; Be not afraid my Lord, all promises shall be kept: so for that time they parted. The next day, the Duke sent for the Bishop, and having rehearsed unto him the Communication had between them the day before, he went on and said: My Lord of Eli, since I perceive your true heart and sincere affection toward me; I will now discover unto you, all that hath passed my own imaginations. After I had found the dissimulation and falseness of king Richard, and specially after I was informed of the murder of the two young Princes, to which (God be my Judge) I never condescended; I so much abhorred the sight, and much more the company of him, that I could no longer abide in his Court; but feigning a cause to depart, I took my leave of him (he thinking nothing less, then that I was displeased) and so returned to Brecknok to you; but in that returning, whether it were by inspiration, or else • through some melancholic disposition, I had divers imaginations how to deprive this unnatural and bloody Butcher of his Royal seat and dignity. First • I fantasied, that if I list to take upon me the Crown, Now was the time, when this Tyrant was abhorred and detested of all men; and knowing not of any that could pretend Title before me: In this imagination I rested two days at Tewkesbury ; in my journey from thence, I mused and thought, that it was not best nor convenient to take upon me as a Conqueror, for then I was sure that all men and specially the Nobility would oppose me; but at last there sprung up a branch in my head, which I surely thought would have brought forth fair flowers, but they turned indeed to dry weeds: For I suddenly remembered that the Lord Edmund Duke of Somerset, my Grandfather, was with king Henry the • ixth, in two or three degrees of John of Gaunt Duke of Lanc • ster ; so that I thought certainly, my Mother being eldest Daughter to Duke Edmund, that I was next heir to king H • nry the sixth, of the House of Lanc • ster : This Title pleased well such as I made of my Counsel, and much more it eleva • ed my ambitious intent; but while I was in a maze, whether I were best suddenly to set this title open amongst • the Common people, or else keep it secret a while, see what chan • ed: As I • ode between Worcester and Bridgenorth, I met with the Lady Margaret Countess of Richmond, now wife to the Lord Stanley, who is the daughter and sole heir to John Duke of Somers • t my Grandfathers elder brother (which was as clean out of my mind, as if I had never seen her) so that she and her son the Earl of Richmond h • ve both of them Titles before mine, and then I clearly saw how I was deceived: w ••• eupon I determined, utterly to relinquish all such fantastical imaginations concerning the obtaining the Crown myself • and found there could be no better way to settle it in a true establishment, then that the Earl of Richmond, very heir of the house of Lancaster ; should take to wife the Lady Elizabeth, eldest Daughter to king Edward, the very heir of the house of York ; that so the two Roses may be united in one: & now (saith the Duke) I have told you my very mind. When the Duke had said this, the Bishop was not a little glad, for this was the mark he had himself aimed at: and thereupon, after some complements of extolling his device, he said: Since by your Graces incomparable wisdom, this noble conjunction is now moved; It is in the next place necessary to consider, what friends we shall first make privy of this intention. By my truth (quoth the Duke) we will begin with the Countess of Richmond the Earls Mother; who knoweth where he is, either in captivity or at large in Britain. And thus was the foundation laid of a league, by these two great men; by which the death of the two young Princes was fully revenged: and it was not talk • of only, but presently put in execution; for now is Reynold Bray employed by the Bishop, to his Mistress the Duchess of Richmond ; Doctor Lewis the Dutchesses Pysician was employed by her to the Queen Elizabeth; Hugh Conway and Thom •• R • me were employed to the Earl of Richmond ; to acquaint them, but in most secret manner, with the intended plot, and to procure their promises to the propounded marriage; which was no hard matter, to make them all willing to their own wishes. This done, Instruments are employed, to draw in parties to the confederacy; Bray by his credit drew in Sir Giles Danbe • y, Sir John Cheyney, Richard Guildford, Thomas R • me and others; Vrswick likewise drew in Hugh Conway, Thomas Colepepper, Thomas Roper with some others; Doctor Lewis drew in Edward Courtney and his brother Peter Bishop of Exceter. It is memorable, that Thomas Conway being sen • most part by Sea, and Thoma • R • me most part by Land; yet came to the Ea • le of Richmond in Britain, within the space of little more then an hour; upon whose information of the plot, the Earl acquaints the Duke of Britain with it, who, though by Hutton King Richards Ambassador, he had by many great offers been solicited to detain him in prison; yet he both readily promised and really performed both his advice and aid to the Earls proceedings. In this mean time Bishop Morto • , not without asking the Dukes leave, though without obtaining it, secretly in disguise, gets him into his Isle of Eli ; and there having done the Earl good Offices by procuring of friends, he thence passeth into Britain to him; from whence he returned no more, till afterward the Earl being king, sent for him home and made him Archbishop of Canterbury.
But though all these things were carried closely, and Oath taken by all for secrecy, yet came it to King Richards knowledge; who notwithstanding dissembling it, sends for the Duke of Buckingham to come unto him; and he putting off his coming with pretended excuses, is at last peremptorily sent for to come upon his Allegiance: when he returned this resolute answer, that he owed no Allegiance to such a perjured inhumane Butcher of his own Flesh and Blood: and so from that time, preparation for Arms is made on both sides. The Duke had gotten a good power of Welshmen ; and the Marquess Dorset having gotten out of Sanctuary, was laboring in Yorkshire to raise forces; the like did the two • ourtneys in Devonshire and Cornwall, and Guilford and R • me in Kent. King Rich • rd setting forward with 〈◊〉 forces; the Duke of Buckingham doth the like, intending at Gloucester to have 〈◊〉 Severn, and so to have joined with the two Courtneys ; but such abundance o • • aine at that time fell, that the Severn was broken out, and impossible to be passed 〈◊〉 ; which the Welshme • seeing, and taking it for an ill sign, they secretly sl • pt away: so as the Duke le • t well near alone, without either Page or so much as a Footm •• ; repaired to the house of one Humphrey Bannister near to Shre • sbury ; who having been raised by him, and his father before him; he thought himself safe under his roof: But Bannister, upon Proclamation made by king Richard, that whosoever could apprehend the Duke, should have a thousand pound for his labor; like an ungrateful and perfidious wretch, discovered him to John Milton High Sheriff of 〈◊〉 , who took him in a pilled black Cloak, as h • was walking in an Orchard behind the house; and carried him to Shrewsbury, where king Richard then lay; • nd there without Arraignment or Legal proceeding, was in the Market place beheaded. Whether Bannister received the Proclaimed reward from the hand of the King, is uncertain; but certain it is, that he received the reward of a Villaine from the hand of Divine Justice; for himself was afterward hanged for man-slaughter, his eldest daughter was deflowered by one of his Carters, or as some say, stricken with a foul Leprosy; his eldest Son in a desperate Lunacy murdered himself, and was • ound to have done so, by the Coroners inquest; and his younger Son in a small puddle was strangled and drowned.
Upon this disaster of the Duke of Buckingham, his complices shifted for themselves; s • me taking Sanctuary, some keeping themselves in unknown places, but many conveyed themselves into Britain to the Earl of Richmond • of whom the Marquess Dorset, John Lord Wells, the Bishop of Exceter and his brother Sir John • 〈◊〉 , Sir Edward Woodvile brother to Queen Elizabeth, Sir Robert Willoughby • Sir Giles Da • beney, Sir Thomas Arundell, Sir John Cheyney and his two brethren, Sir Willia • B • rckly, Sir William Brandon and his brother Thomas, Sir Richard Edgecombe, Hollowell and Poynings Captains, were the chief. Whilst these things are in doing, king Richard receives intelligence from Hutton his Ambassador leiger in Britain ; that the Duke not only refuseth to restaine the Earl of Richmond, but intendeth also to give him assistance: whereupon the king •• oke present order for preparing his Navy to stop the Earls landing in any Port of England.
Upon the twelveth day o • October in the year 1484. The Earl of Richmond with forty Ships, and five thousand waged Britain tooks, to sea; but that Evening, by tempest of weather, his whole Fleet was dispersed, so as only the Ship wherein the Earl himself was, with one little Bark, was driven upon the Coast of Cornw • ll ; where discovering upon the shore great store of Armed Soldiers to resist his landing; he hoysed sail, and returning toward France, arrived in Normandy ; from whence sending Messengers to Charles the Eighth King of France, he was by him not only kindly invited to come to his Court, but was aided also with good s • mmes of money to bear his charges. After this, the Earl returning into Britt • i • e, received there the news of the Duke of Buckinghams death, and the disp • r • ing of the Confederates forces; with which though he was at first much troubled, yet was he as much comforted afterward, when he saw the Marquess Dorset and those other Lord's and Captains come unto him: soon after whose coming, upon Christ •• sse day before the high Altar in the great Church of Rheims, the Earl of Richmo • d gave Oath, to marry the Lady El • zabeth, as soon as he should be quietly • e • led in the Government of England : and thereupon all the Lord's and Knights there present, did him homage, and in the same place, each to other Religiously Vowed, taking the Sacrament upon it; never to cease prosecuting war against king Richard, till either his Deposition or Destruction.
King Richard being informed of these things, makes diligent enquiry after all such as might be suspected to be favorers of Richmonds association; of whom Sir George Brown, and Sir Roger Clifford with four other Gentlemen are apprehended and ex • cuted at London : Sir Thomas Sentl • ge • , whom m • rried Anne the Duke of Excet • rs widow, this kings own sister, and Thomas Rame Esquire were executed at Exceter. Thomas Marquess Dorset, and all such as were with the Earl of Rich ••• d, were at a Parliament then holden att • inted of Treason, and all their Good • a • d Lands seized on to the kings use: Besides these, a poor Gentleman called C • lli • gbor •• , for making a small ryme of th • ee of his wicked Co • nsellours; the Lord L ••• ll, Sir Robert Ratcliffe, and Sir William Catesby: which ryme was thus framed: 〈◊〉 Cat, the Rat, and •• vell the Dog; rule all Engla •• under a •• og: was put to deat • , • nd his body divided into four quarter • .
At this time, a Truce is concl • ded betwixt England and Sc •• land, for three years • and for a se • ling a firmer Amity between the two kingdoms, a marriage it treated • of between the Duke of Rothsay, eldest Son to the king of Scots ; and the Lady Anne de la Poole, daughter to John Duke of Suffolk, by Anne sister to king Ri • hard, which sister he so much favored, that after the death of his own son, who died some time before; • e caused John Earl of Lincoln, her son and his Nephew, to be proclaimed Heir apparent to the Crown of England.
And now King Richard, to take away the Root of his fear, once again sent Amb ••• adors to the Duke of Britain, with orde • (besides the great gifts they carried with them) to make offer, that king Richard should yearly pay and answer the Duke of all the Revenues and Profits of all lands and possessions • as well belonging to the Earl of Richmond, as of any other Nobleman or Gentleman that were in his company; if he after that time would keep them in continual prison, and restrain the • from liberty. But the Duke of Brit • ine being at that time fallen into such infirmity, that the Ambassadors could have no audience; they addressed themselves to • eter Landois, the Dukes chief Treasurer: and he taken with this golden hook, faithfully promised to satisfy their Request; and had done so indeed, but that B. Morto • , sojourning then in Fl •• ders, had by his friends Intelligence of his purpose, and presently informed the E. thereof. The E. was then at Va •• e • • who, upon the Bps. information, taking with him only five servants, as though he went but to visit some friend; when he was five miles forward on his way, suddenly turned into a Wood adjoining; and there changing apparel with one of his servants, followed after as their attendant; and never rested, till by ways unknown he came to his company abiding at Angi • r • : yet was not his departure so secret nor so sudden, but that Peter Landois had notice of it; who sending Posts after him, was so near overtaking him, that he was scarce entered one hour into Franc • , when the Posts arrived at the Con • ines, and then durst go no further. In the mean time, Sir Edward Woodvile and Captain P • ynings, who with their companies were left behind in Vannes, had been in danger of Peter L • ndis his malice; but that the Duke being informed by the Chancellor of their case, not only protected them, but furnished them with all necessaries for their journey to the Earl: and was so incensed against L •• dost for this action of his, that for this and some other over-bold pre • umptions, he was afterward hanged.
The Earl having passed this danger in Britain, and being arrived in France, addresseth himself to the French king, imploring his aid; and hath it promised and performed: and in this time John Vere Earl of Oxford, who had long time been kept prisoner in the Castle of Hammes, so far prevailed with James Blunt Captain of the Fortress, and Sir John Fortescue Porter of the Town of Calais ; that not only they suffered him to be at liberty, but accompanied him also to the Earl of Richm ••• , to whom Captain Blunt gave assurance that the Fortress remained wholly at his devotion. At this time also there resorted to the Earl, divers young Gentlemen that were Students in the University of Paris, proffering him their service; amongst whom was Richard Fox, at that time famous for his learning; with whom afterward the Earl advised in all his affairs, made him one of his most Privy Counsel, and at last Bishop of Winchester.
But now king Richard having been disappointed of his design in Britain, hath another way in his head, to disapoint the Earl of Richmond of his marriage with the Daughter of Queen Elizabeth : and to this end, he sent to the Queen • (being still in Sanctuary) divers messengers, who should first excuse and purge him of all things formerly attempted and done against her; and then should largely promise promotions innumerable, not only to her self, but also to her son Lord Thomas Marquess D • r • et • by • or • e of which promises, the messengers so prevailed with her, • hat no • only she began • o relent, but 〈…〉 was content to submit her self wholly to th • king • pleasure. And thereupon putting in oblivion the murder of her inno •••• Children, the butchering of her own Brother and Son, the infamy of her • oy • ll Hu •• and, the aspersion of Adulte • y cast upon her self, the imputation of Bastardy laid to her Da •• hter •• forgetting also her Oa • h made to the Earl of Richmonds Moth • r; seduced by fla • tering words, she first delivered into king Richards hands her • ive Daughters, and after sent letters to the Marquess her Son, being then at Pari • wit • the Earl of Richmond ; willing him by any means to leave the Earl, and with all speed to repair into England • where for him were provided great Honors and Promotions: Assuring him further, that all offenses on both parts were forgot • en • nd forgiven; and both he and she incorporated in the kings favor. If we wonder at this credulity in the Queen, we may conceive she was moved with the 〈…〉 motives of Fear and hope; she feared (no doubt) that if she denied the king • request, he would presently take some sharp course both against her and her D ••• ht • rs; and she hoped that if she yielded to his request, he would undoub • e • lie perform his promise, seeing it was as easy for him to keep it as to break it.
But now king Richards purpose being to marry one of his brother king Edwards daughters: there was one impediment which directly hindered it; that he had a wife living; and how to be rid of her, that he might not bring new aspersions upon hi • self, he could not well tell; yet this he resolved, that be rid of her he would by some way or other: but before he would use extremity, he would first try milder ways; and first he abstained both from her bed and company, and complained to divers of her barrenness; which coming to her • are, he hoped might cause her • o die with grief: And when this device failed, he then caused a rumour to be s •••• d among the people, that she was suddenly dead; hoping the very conceit thereof would kill her: when this device also failed, (for the Queen hearing of it, and mistrustring the worst, with a most sorrowful countenance came unto him, demanding what she had done, that he should judge her worthy to die? who answered with fair words, bidding her be of good cheer, for (to his knowledge) she should have no other cause:) he then made sure work; for within few days after, whether by poison or by what other • eans, it is not certainly known, she departed this life; and with all solemnity, not without some formal tears of king Richard, was interred in St. Peters Church at Westminster.
King Richard now by his wives death, having made himself way to marry another; 〈◊〉 all the alluring means he can devise, to win the love of the Lady Elizabeth his 〈◊〉 , but meaning at last to purchase his desire by Rape, if he could not otherwise • and had perhaps done it, but that the storms threatened from beyond the seas, growing every day more strong then other, forced him to prorouge the execution of his desires, and look to the prevention of his present danger. The Lord Stanley is commanded presently to levy forces for the kingsayde, as he will justify his integrity to him; but yet is not permitted to go down into the Country, until he had left George Lord Strange his eldest Son, as a Pledge of his Loyalty, behind him. And now king Richard being informed (though the information was craftily suborned by his Enemies) that the Earl of Richmond was out of hope of any great assistance from France ; dischargeth the ships which he had appointed to guard the seas, •• d likewise all the soldiers; only order is given for diligent watching of the Beacons.
At this time, one Morga • Kidwelly, a Student at the Inns of Court, with great ha •• d of his life, passed over to the Earl; Informing him, that King Richard by all means labored to match himself with the Lady Elizabeth : which so wrought with the Earl, that he saw there was no lingering: and the more, being by him further informed, that Ric • ap Thomas and John Savage, two powerful men in their Coun • r • es, were ready with great forces to assist him: Whereupon not having above two thousand Mercenaries, and but indifferent shipping to convey him over: about the middle of August he put to sea, and by the advice of the said Kidwelly, steered his course for Wales, and on the seventee ••• day after his departure from Harflew, arrived at Milford Haven; and there landing his for • es without trouble or impeachment, from thence m ••• hed peacably 〈◊〉 Hereford, where by the Inhabitants he was joyfully received. Here he receiveth news by Captain Arnold Butler, that the Earl of Pembroke with all hi • reti ••• , was upon the way to join with him; also thither came to him R • chard Griffith and John Morgan, with a band of brave Welsh men; and the same day, Sir Gi • ber • T • lbo • with all the Earl of Shewsbury • s Tenants, (being about two thousand well appointed men) came unto him: with these he marched towards Shrewsbury ; at which time word is brought him, that Sir Robert Herbert and Rice ap Thomas, were ready with a great power to stop his passage: which somewhat troubled him, that his friends so suddenly should revolt: but it was but a trick of R • ce ap Tho ••• to make his bargain the surer: for soon after, Rice ap Thomas meets him, and offers him his service, so as the Earl will pledge his faith to perform his promise formerly made; which was, that having once obtained the Crown, he would make Rice sole Governor of Wales : which was now assented to, and afterward performed • At this time the Lord St •• ley with five thousand men, had taken up his lodging at the Town of Leicester ; but hearing of the Earls march that way, he le • t Leicester and went to Add • t •• , not daring to show himself openly for the Earl; for fear the King should put his Son the Lord Strange to death, whom he had left an Hostage with him.
All this time King Richard lay at Nottigham, and was as it were fatally taken with a spirit of security, hearing that the Earl had but small assistance either from France or in England ; and therefore slighting him as little able to do any great matter: but when he heard that part of his own forces was revolted to him, then he began to look about him, and sends present direction to the Duke of Norfolk, the Earls of Northumberland and Surry, with Sir Thomas Brackenbury Lievetenant of the Tower, with all speed to bring their forces to him at Lutterworth, from whence upon their arrival, hearing that the Earl was encamped at Lichfield : he marcheth thitherward: At which time, Sir Walter Hungerford and some others, withdrew themselves from King Richards part: and Sir John Savage, Sir Bryan Sta • ford, and Sir Simon Digby, with their several Forces, joined with the Earl.
King Richard took the advantage of a large Plain near Bosworth, adjoining to a Hill called Anne Beam ; where he encamped: And observing by his Adversaries manner of approach, that they meant to give him battle; He the next morning put his Forces in order: The Vauntguard was led by the Duke of Norfolk, which consisted of one thousand two hundred Bow-men, flanked with two hundred Cuyrassiers, under the conduct of the Earl of Surrey: The Battle King Richard led himself, which consisted of a thousand Bill-men, empaled with two thousand Pikes: The Reereward was led by Sir Thomas Bracke • bury, consisting of two thousand mingled weapons, with two wings of Horsemen, containing fifteen hundred, all of them cast into square maniples; expecting the Lord Sta • ley 's coming with two thousand, most of them Horsemen: But the Lord Stanley carried himself so warily, that he might neither give cause of suspicion to the King, nor yet cause of disadvan • tage to the Earl: that when, early in the morning, the Earl sent unto him, desiring his prese • t repair; he answered, that he must look for no aid from him, till the Battailes should be joined; and therefore advised him, with all possible speed to give the Onset. This Answer somewhat staggered the Earl, because his number did but little exceed one half of the Kings: Yet to make the best show he could • by the advice of his Counsel of War, he made his Vaward open and thin; of which John Earl of Oxford had the leading: The Earl himself led the Battle: Sir Gilbert Talbot commanding the Right wing, and Sir John Savage the left: whose soldiers being all alike clad in white Coates and hoods of Frize; by the reflection of the Sun upon them, made them appear in the view of their Enemies, double the number. The Reereward was governed by the Earl of Pembroke, which consisted most of • orse, and some Pikes and Black bills. King Richard to encourage his soldiers, made a solemn speech unto them: but alas! what hope co • ld he have to put them in heart, whose hearts he had lost? or to rise alacrity in others, who had none in himself? For now the remembrance of his fore-passed villainies, and specially a fearful dream he had the night before, (wherein it seemed to him he saw divers Images like Devils, which pulled and hailed him, not suffering him to take any rest or quiet) so damped his spirits, that although he set a good face upon the matter, yet he co • ld not choose but have a presaging fear that the date o • hi • days was not far from expiring. The Earl of Richmond on the other side, having a clear conscience in himself, and speaking to men that followed him for love • had the easier means • o give them encouragement: which he did with so cheerful a countenance; as though already he had gotten the victory. After their military exhor • ations ended, King Richard commanded to give the onset. Between both Armies, there was agreat Marsh; which the Earl left on his right-hand, that it might be a defense for his soldiers on that side; and besides by so doing, he had the Sun at his back, and in the faces of the enemy. When king Richard saw that the Earls company wa • pa •• ed this Marish, he commanded with all speed to set upon them. Then were the Arrows let fly on both sides, and those spent, they came to hand-strokes; at which encounter comes in the the Lord Stanley, and joins with the Earl. The Earl of Oxford in the mean time, fearing lest his company should be compassed in with the multitude of his enemies, gave charge in every rank, that no man should go above ten foot from the Standard: whereupon they knit themselves together, and ceased a while from fighting: which the Enemy seeing, and mistrusting some fraud, they also paused and left striking. But then the E • rle of Oxford, having brought all his Band together, set on the Enemy afresh; which the Enemy perceiving, they placed their men slender and thin before, but thick and broad behind; and resolutely again began • he Fight. While these two Va • ntgu • rds were thus contending, King Richard was informed, that the Earl of Richmond with a small ••• ber was not far off: whereupon he presently makes towards him; and being of an invincible courage, whereof he was now to give the last proof, he made so furious an assault, that first with his own hands he slew Sir William Brandon, who bore the Earls Standard; next, he unhorst and overthrew Sir John Cheyny, a strong and stout man at Arms; and then assaulted the Earl of Richmond himself, who ( • hough no man would have thought it, yet) for all the Kings fury, held him off at his Launces point, till Sir William Stanley came in with three thousand freshmen; and then oppressed with multitude, King Richard is there slain. It is said, that when the Battle was at the point to be lost, a swift horse was b • ought unto him, with which he might have saved himself by flight: but out of his undaunted courage he refused it, saying He would that day make an end of all Battells, or else lose his life. In this Battle, He • ry Earl of Northumberland, who led King Richards Reereward, never struck stroke; as likewise many other, who followed King Richard more for Fear than Love: and so King Richard who had deceived many in his time, was at this time deceived by many: which was not unforeseen by some, who caused a Rhyme to be set upon the Duke of Norfolks gate the night before the Battle; which was this:
Of his Taxations.
WEE must not look for Taxations in kind, in this kings reign; for he drew from his Subjects not money so much as blood; and the money he drew was most by blood, which drew on confiscation: whereof, let never any Prince make a president: for where Taxations properly do but Tondere, the • e did Deglu • ere. Yet in his second year, he called a Parliament, wherein besides the great confiscations of those that were then attainted, he imposed upon the people a great Tax, which what it was, is not Recorded.
Of his Laws and Ordinances.
HAving gotten the Crown by Pestilent courses, he sought to Establish i • by wholesome Laws: for in no Kings reign were better Laws made, then in the reign of this man. Amongst other of his Laws, It was enacted, that from thence forth, the Commonalty of the Realm should in no wise be charged by any imposition called a Benevolence, nor any such like charge; and that such exactions called a Benevolence, before this time taken, shall be taken for no example to make any such like charge hereafter; but shall be damned and annulled forever. Many other good Laws were by him made; that we may say, he took the ways of being a good King, if he had come to be King by ways that had been good.
Affaires of the Church in his time.
IN his time, the troubles of the Temporalty kept the Clergy at quiet; and though there were complaing in the streets, there was none in the Church. Only • hores wife might complain, why she should do Penance for offending lightly against only the seventh Commandment; and king Richard do none for offending heavily against all the ten; but that perhaps he had gotten some good fellow to be his Confessor.
Works of Piety done by him.
AS bad as this King was, yet some good works he did: he founded a College at Middleham beyond York ; and a Collegiate Chauntry in London, near unto the Tower, called our Lady of Barking : He endowed the Queens College in Cam •••• ge, with five hundred Marks of yearly revenue; and disforested the great field of Whitchwood, which king Edward his brother had enclosed for Deere.
Of Casualties happening in his time.
IN his second year, at the time when the Duke of Buckingham meant to pass with his Army over Severn; so great an inundation was of wa • er, that men were drowned in their beds, houses were overturned, children were carried about the fields swimming in Cradles, beasts were drowned on hills: which rage of water conti •• ed ten days; and is to this day in the Countries thereabout, called the great water, or the Duke of Buckingham • water.
Of his wife and issue.
HEE married Anne the second Daughter of Richard Nevill the great Earl of Warwick, being the widow of Edward Prince of Wales, the Son of king He •• y the sixth: she lived his Wife to the last year of his reign; and then to make way for another, was brought to her end, and laid a • rest in the Abbey of Westminster : by her he had only one Son, born at Middleham near Richmond in the County of York ; at four years old, created Earl of Salisbury by his Uncle king Edward the fourth; at ten years old, created Prince of Wales by his Father king Richard, but died soon after.
Of his Personage and Conditions.
THere never was in any man a greater uniformity of Body and Mind then was in him; both of them equally deformed. Of Body he was but low, crook-backed, hook-shouldered, splay-footed, and goggle-eyed, his face little and round, his complexion swarsie, his left arm from his birth dry and withered: born a monster in nature, with all his teeth, with hair on his head, and nails on his fingers and toes. And just such were the qua •• ties of his mind: One quality he had in ordinary, which was, to look faw •• ngly when he plotted, sternly when he executed. Those vices which in other men are Passions, in him were Habits: and his cruelty was not upon occasion, but natural. If at any time he shown any virtue, it was but pretence; the truth of his mind was only lying and falsehood. He was full of courage and yet not valiant; valor consisting not only in doing, but as well in suffering, which he could not abide. He was politick and yet not wise, Policy looking but to the middle, wisdom to the end: which he did, and did not. And it was not so much ambition that made him desire the Crown, as cruelty, that it might be in his power to kill at his pleasure: and to say the truth, he was scarce of the number of men who consist of flesh and blood, being nothing but blood. One Miracle we may say he did; which was, that he made the truth of History to exceed the fiction of Poetry, being a greater Harpy than those that were feigned. He would fain have been accounted a good King, but for his life he could not be a good Man; and it is an impossible thing to be one without the other. He left no is • ue behind him: and it had been pity he should, at least in his own Image; One such Monster was enough for many Ages.
Of his Death and Burial.
BEing slain in the Battle at Bosworth, as before is related; his body was left naked and des • oiled to the very skin, not so much as a c • out left about him to cover his privy parts: and taken up, was trussed behind a Pursuivant at Arms, one Bla • ch Senglyer or White-boar ; his head and arms hanging on one side of the horse, and his legs on the other; and all besprinkled with mire and dirt, he was brought to the Gray-Friers Church within the Town of Leicester, and there for some time lay a miserable spectacle; and afterward, with small Funeral-pomp, was there interred. But after this, King He • ry the Seventh caused a Tomb to be made, and set up over the place where he was buried, with a picture of Alablaster representing his person; which at the suppression of that Monastery was utterly defaced: Since when, his Grave overgrown with nettles and weeds, is not to be found; only the Stonechest wherein his Corps lay, is now made a drinking-trough for horses, at a common Inn in Leicester, and retaineth the only memory of this Monarchs greatness. But his body (as is reported) was carried out of the City, and contemptuously bestowed under the end of Bow-bridge, which giveth passage over a branch of Stowre, upon the West side of the Town. Upon this bridge (the like report runneth) stood a stone of some height; against which king Richard, as he passed • owards Bosworth, by chance struck his spurr: and against the same stone, as he was brought back, hanging by the horse side, his head was dashed and broken; as a Wise-woman (forsooth) had fore-told; who before his going to battle, being asked of his success, said, that where his spurr struck, his head should be broken. But these are but Repo ••• He had lived seven and thirty years, Reigned two, and two months.
Of men of Note in his time.
OF men of Note for wickedness and villainy, enough have been mentioned i • the body of the Story: and for men of Valour and Learning, they will fit • be placed in a better Kings Reign.
THE REIGNE OF KING HENRY THE SEVENTH.
H ENRY Earl of Richmond, borne in Pembroke -Castle, son to Edmund Earl of Richmond, by his wife Margaret, sole daughter of John Duke of Somerset, which John was son of John Earl of Somerset, son of John of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, by his third wife Katherine Swinford ; and by this descent, Heir of the House of Lancaster: having won the Battle at Bosworth, against King Richard ; is by public acclamations saluted King of England, on the 22 day of August, in the year 1485. and this was his first Title. And now to take away a Root of danger; before his departure from Leicester, he sent Sir Robert Willoug • by to the Castle of Sheriffehaton in the County of York, for Edward Plantage • et Earl of Warwick, son and heir to George Duke of Clarence, being then of the age of fifteen years, whom King Richard had there kept a prisoner all his time; who was thence conveyed to London, and shut up in the Tower to be kept in safe custody. In the same Castle also, King Richard had left residing the Lady Elizabeth eldest daughter to King Edward the Fourth: and her now King Henry appoints honorably attended to be brought up to London, and to be delivered to the Queen her mother. This done, he took his journey towards London ; where at his approaching near the City, Thomas Hill the Major, Thomas Britain and Richard Chester Sheriffs, with other principal Citizens, met him at Shore-ditch, and in great state brought him to the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, where he offered three Standards: in the one was the Image of St. George ; in another was a red fiery Dragon, beaten upon white and green Sarcenet; in the third was painted a dun Cow, upon yellow Tarterne. After Prayers said, he departed to the Bishops Palace, and there sojourned a season: And in the time of his stay here, he advised with his Council, and appointed a day for solemnizing his marriage with the Lady Elizabeth: before which time notwithstanding, he went by water to Westminster, and was there with great solemnity Anointed and Crowned King of England, by the whole consent as well of the Commons as of the Nobility, by the name of Henry the Seventh, on the thirtieth day of October, in the year 1485: and this was his second Title. And even this was revealed to Cadwalloder last King of the Britain's, seven • u • dred ninety and seven years past; That his offspring should Rain and b • a • e Dominion in this Realm again.
On the seventeenth day of November following, he called his High Court of Parliament; where, at the first sitting, two scruples appea • ed: One concerning t • e Burgesses; for that many had been returned Burgesses and knights of Shires, who by a Parliament in king Richards time, stood Attainted still: and it was thought incong • uous, for men to make Law •• , who were themselves out-lawed: For remedy whereof, an Act was presently passed for their restoring; and then they were admitted to sit in the House. The other concerning the King himself, who had been Attainted by king Richard : but for this, It was resolv • d by all the Judges in the Ch • quer Chamber, that the possession of the Crown takes away all defects; yet for Honors sake, all Records of hi • Attainder were taken off the File. And so these scruples thus removed, the Parliament b • ga • ; wherein were Attainted, first Richard late Duke of Gloucester, calling himself Richard the Third: Then, his Assistants at the Battle of Bosworth: John late Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey, Francis Viscount Lovell, Walter Devereux late Lord Ferrers, John Lord Zouch, Rober • Harington, Richard Cha • leto •• Richar • Rat • life • William Ber • ley of Weley, Robert Middleton, James Haringto •• • obert Br • c • enb •• y, T • omas Pilkington, Wal • er Ho • ton, William Catesby, Roger W • ke, William Sapco • e, Humphrey Stafford, William Clerke of Wenlock, Geoffrey St. German, Richard Watkins, Herald at Arms, Richard Revell, Thomas Pul • er, John Welsh, John Ken • all l • te Secretary to the late king Richard, John Buck, Andrew Rat, and William Brampton of Burford. But notwithstanding this Attainder, divers of the persons aforesaid, were afterwards not only by King Hen • y pardoned, but restored also to their lands and livings. As likewise he caused Proclamation to be made, that whosoever would submit themselves, and take Oath to be true subjects, should have their Pardon: whereupon many came out of Sanctuaries and other places; who submitting themselves, were received to mercy.
And now King Henry con • idering that • aena & Praemio Respublica contine • uy ; after Punishing for Offence • , he proceeds to Rewarding for Service: and first, Jasper Earl of Pembroke his Uncle, he created Duke of Bedford: Thomas Lord Stanley he created Earl of Darb • : the Lord Chendow of Britain, his special friend, he made Earl of Bathe: Sir Giles Dauben • y was made Lord Dawbeney: Sir Robert Willoughby was made Lord Brooke: and Edward Stafford eldest son to Henry late Duke of Buckingham, he restored to his Dignity and Possessions. Besides, in this Parliament, an Act was made, for se •• ing the Crown upon the person of king Henry and the heirs of his Body successively forever. And then with all speed he sent and redeemed the Marquess Dorset, and Sir John Bourchier, whom he had left Hostages in France for money: and called home Morton Bishop of Eli, and Richard Fox ; making Morton Archbishop of Canterbury, and Fox Lord Keeper of the Privy S • ole, and Bishop of Winchester. Besides these, he made also of his Privy Counsel, Jasper Duke of Bedford, John Earl of Oxford, Thomas Stanley Earl of Darby, John Bishop of Eli, Sir William Stanley Lord Chamberlain of his Household; Sir Robert Willoughby Lord Brooke, Lord Steward of his Household; Giles Lord Dawbeny; John Lord Dyn •• m, after made Lord Treasurer of England ; Sir Reginold Bray, Sir John Cheyny, Sir Richard Guildford, Sir Richard Tunstall, Sir Richard Edgecombe, Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Edmund P • ynings, Sir John Risley, with some other.
These things thus done: as well in performance of his Oath, as to make his Crown sit the surer on his head; on the eighteenth day of January, he proceeded to the solemnizing his marriage with the Lady Elizabeth ; which gave him a third title: And indeed this conjunction made a wreath of three so indissoluble, that no age since hath ever questioned it: and it is fixed upon a Tree planted so happily by the waters side, and hath at this day so many flourishing branches, that there is good hope it will continue as long as the world continues.
And now whether King Henry doubted any sudden attempt upon his person, or whether he did it to follow the example of France : in the very beginning of his reign, he ordained a band of tall personable men to be attending upon him, which was called the Kings guard; which no King before, and all Kings since, have always used: But though he provided a guard for defense of his own body; yet for the bod ••• of his people he could provide none; for at this time a sickness (of the symp ••• e called the sweating sickness) seized so violently upon them, that within a •• ort time many thousands perished; particularly in London, two Majors successive • y and six Aldermen within eight days died: and for this: sickness no Physic aff •• ded any cure; till at last, this remedy was found: if a man were taken with the sweat in the day time, that then he should presently lie down in his clothes, and so lie still the whole four and twenty hours: if he were taken in the night, then • e should not rise out of his bed for the space of four and twenty hours; not provoking sweat, nor yet eating or drinking at all, at least but very moderately. In 〈◊〉 sickness there was one good circumstance; that though it were violent, yet it lasted not long: for beginning about the one and twentieth of September, it cleared • p before the end of October following.
And now all things being set in good order in the South parts there ariseth a little s • o • me in the North, but was soon dispersed. For King Henry making a journey in • o the North parts, to show himself there where he had not yet been; and where 〈◊〉 respect to King Richard might have left some opposites: at his coming to Li • colne was certified that the Lord Lovell and Humphrey Stafford were gone out of S • nctuary in Colchester ; but whither, no man knew. The King therefore not much regarding it, went forward to York ; and being come thither, it was then plainly told him, that the Lord Lovell with a strong power was at hand, and would presently invade the City. This made the King in a great straight; for neither had he any Army r •• dy; no • if he had men, had he any weapons or Munition • or them. Yet in this straight, he commanded the Duke of Bedford with three thousand men to • et out ag •• nst him, but so ill armed, that their armors for the most part were but of tanned l •• there; who being come near the Campe of the Rebels, caused Proclamation to be made, that whosoever would submit themselves as loyal Subjects, should have their Pardons, and be received into grace: which Proclamation so prevailed, that i • made the Lord Lovell secretly in the night to fly away; and then the Army left without a head, submitted themselves to the Kings mercy. The Lord Lovell fled into Lancashire ; and there for a time lurked with Sir Thomas Broughton, a man powerful in those parts. Humphrey Stafford took Sanctuary in a village called Culnh • m two miles from Abington: but the Sanctuary being judged by the Justices of the Kings Bench, to be no lawful defense for Traitors; he was taken from thence by force, and conveyed to the Tower, afterward to Tyburne, and there hanged. His brother Thomas was pardo • ed, because it was thought, he was drawn in by his brother Humphrey.
In this year, John Persivall the Major of London 's Carver, waiting at his Table, was chosen one of the Sheriffs of London, only by Sir John Collet's, then Major, drinking to him in a cup of Wine, (as the custom is, to drink to him whom he li • t to name Sheriff) and forthwith the said Persivall sat down at the Majors Table, • nd covered his head, and was afterward Major himself.
At this time a mean instrument attemped a great work; by which we may see, how far imagination may out-go reason: One Richard Symond a Priest, a man of base birth though some learning; had a scholar of baser birth, the Son of a Shoemaker, (some say a Baker) named Lambert Symnell ; but of a pregnant wit, and comely personage: Him he gives out to be Edward Earl of Warwick, lately (as was said) escaped out of prison; Both of them being of like years and stature: with this Scholar of his, he sails into Ireland ; and so sets forth the matter: that not only the Lord Thomas Fitz-Gerard Earl of Kildare, and Deputy of Ireland ; but many other of the Nobilty gave credit to his words; and as those that affected the house of York, were ready to take his part; and even already saluted the young Symnell King. Withall they sent into Flanders to the Lady Margaret, sister to the late King Edward, and widow of • harles Duke of Burgoigne, requiring aid and assistance from her. This Lady being of the house of York, bore an inward grudge ag • inst King Henry, being of the house of Lancaster ; and • herefore though she well understood it was but a coloured matter, yet was willing to take advantage of it: and thereupon promised her assistance. King Henry being advertised of these things, advised with his Counsel; by whom it was agreed, that two things presently should be do • e. First, to grant • Pardon to any that would submit themselves, for any offense whatsoever, though it were for High Treason; the next, that the Earl of Warwick should be openly shown abroad in the City, and other public places; whereby, the report spread abroad of his being in Irel • nd, might appear plainly to be false. Withall, the Queen Elizabeth, widow of King Edward the fourth, and Mother to the present Queen, was adjudged to forfeit all her Lands and Possessions, and to live confined in the Abbey of Bermondsey in Southwarke ; where in grea • pensivenes, within a few years she died. But for what cause this severity was used against this Queen, is not altogether certain: To say, (as was commonly said) that it was for rendering her self and her daughters into the hands of king Rich • rd, were manifest injustice, to punish her for doing a thing out of fear, which else she should have been compelled to do by force: and to say (as some also have said) that it was for giving aide underhand to Perki • , were a manifest unlikelihood, tha • she should aide a Counterfeit against her own Son in Law: we must therefore content ourselves with knowing the bare colorable pretext, and leave the true reason as a secret of State. But this showing abroad of the true Earl of Warwick, though it satisfied some, yet not all: for some gave out that it was but a trick of the King, and not the true Warwick. At least the Earl of Lincoln, son to John de l • Poole Duke of Suffolk, and Elizabeth sister to king Edward the fourth, would not omit to take the advantage, though he knew that Symnell was but a Counterfeit. And thereupon, as soon as • he Parliament was dissolved, he fled secretly into Fl • nders, to his Aunt the Lady Margaret D • tchesse of Burgoigne ; between whom it was concluded, that he and the Lord L • vell should go into Ireland, and there attend upon the Counterfeit Warwick, and honor him as king • and with the power of the Irishmen bring him into England : but it was concluded withal, that if their actions succeeded • then the Counterfei • Warwick should be deposed, and the true be delivered out of prison, and anointed King. And to this purpose, the Earl of Lincol • , by the aide of the Lady Margaret, had gotten together two thousand Almaines, with one Martin Swart a valiant and expert Captain to be their leader. With this power, the Earl sailed into Ireland, and at the City of Dublin, caused young Lambert the Counterfeit Warwick, in most solemn manner, first to be Proclaimed, and after to be Crowned king of E • gland : and then with a great number of beggarly and unarmed Irishmen, under the Conduct of the Lord Thomas Gerardine Earl of Kild • re, they sailed into England, and landed at a place called the Pile of Fowdray, not far from Lancaster ; hoping there by the means of Sir Thomas Broughton, a powerful man in that Country, to have their Army both furnished and increased. King Henry hearing that the Earl of Lincoln was landed at Lancaster, assembled a great Army, Conducted by the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Oxford ; and with these he marched to Nottingham, and there by a little wood called Bowres, he pitched his field; whither there came unto him, the Lord George Talbot Earl of Shrewsbury, • he Lord Strange, Sir John Cheyney, and divers other Knights and Gentlemen. In which mean time, the Earl of Lincoln being entered into Yorkshire, passed quietly on his journey, without doing spoil or hurt unto any; trusting thereby to have won the people to come to his aide: but when he perceived few or none to resort unto him, he then determined to venture a battle with the Army he had already; and thereupon took his way from York to Newark upon Trent. King Henry understanding which way he took, came the night before the battle to Newark ; and going three miles further, near to a little Village called Stoke, there waited the approach of the Earl of Lincoln ; So the next day they joined battle; where after a long fight, of at the least three hours; though the Almaines, and specially their Captain Martin Swart behaved themselves most valiantly; yet their Ir • sh, being in a manner but naked men, were at last overthrown, four thousand slain, and the rest put • o fl • ght; but not one of their Cap • aines; for the Earl of Lincoln, the Lord L • vell, Sir Thomas Broughton, Martin Swart, and the Lord Gerardine were all found dead in the very place where they had stood fighting; that though they lost the battle, yet they won the reputation of hardy and stout soldiers. Only of the Lord Lovell, some report, that attempting to save himself by flight; in passing over the river of Trent, was drowned. On the kings part, though some were slain, yet not any m • n of note. This battle was fought on a Saturday (observed as always fortunate to king Henry ) being the sixteenth of June, in the second year of king Henries reign. The young Lambert, and his Master Simond the Priest, were both taken; and both had their lives saved: Lambert, because but a Child; S • mond, bec • use a Priest: yet Symo • d was kept in prison, Lambert was taken into the kings kitchen, to turn the spit in the turn of his fortune, and at last made one of the kings Fau • kners.
In the beginning of his third year, king Henry having been in Yorkshire, to settle the m • ndes of that people: about the midst of August, came to Newcastle upon Tine, and from thence sent Ambassadors into Scotland, Richard Fox lately before made Bishop of Exceter, and Sir Richard Edgecombe Comptroller of his House, to conclude a Peace or Truce with James king of Scots: A Peace, by reason of the people's backwardness, could not be obtained: but a Truce was concluded for the term of seven years; with a promise from the king, that it should be renewed before the first seven years should be expired.
At this time, Ambassadors came from the king of France • to king Henry ; who declared, that their Master king Charles was now at war with Francis Duke of Britai • e, for that he succoured the Duke of Orleans and other Rebels against the Realm of France ; and therefore requested, that for the old familiarity that had been between them, he would either a •• ist him, or not assist the Duke, but stand Ne • ter. King He • ry answered, that having received court • ies from them both, he would do his uttermost endeavor to make them friends: and to that end, as soon as the French Ambassadors were departed, he sent Christopher Vrswick his Chaplain over into France ; who should first go to the French king, and after to the Duke of Britain, to mediate a Peace between them.
In the time of Vrswicks Ambassage, king Henry caused his Wife the Lady Elizabeth to be Crowned Queen, on Sai • t Katherines day in November, with all solemnity; and at the same time delivered the Lord Thomas Marquess Dorset out of the Tower, and received him again into his former favor.
Vrswick travelled between the two Princes, to procure a Peace; but they, though making a show to incline to Peace, yet prepared for war, and offers on neither side would be accepted. In which time, Edward Lord Wood • ile Uncle to the Queen, made suite to the king, for leave to go over with a power of men, in aide of the Duke of Britain ; which su • e, though the king denied, yet the Lord Woodvile would venture it; and with a power of • our hundred able men, got secretly over, and joined with the Britain's against the French. This the French king took ill at king Henries hand; but being informed that it was against the kings will, he seemed sati • fied: and a Peace was concluded between Fr ••• e and England, to endure for twelve months. But in conclusion, king Henry finding that the French king dealt not r • ally with him, but only held him on with pretences • he called his high Court of Parliamen • , requiring their advice what was fit to be done: where it was con •• uded, that the Duke of Britain should be aided; and to that end great • ummes of money were by Parliament granted. This Determination of the Parliament, king Henry signifies to the French king, hoping, it would have wrought him to some terms of Peace • But the king of France little regarding it, proceeded on in his violent cour • es against the Britain's ; so as at last, on • he eight and twentieth day of July, the Britain's gave battle to the French, near to a Town called 〈◊〉 ; having appareled seventeen hundred of the Britai •• , in Co •• with • ed • rosse • after the English fashion, to make the Frenchmen believe • hey were all English, although in • eed they had no more English than the four hundred of the Lord Woodvile. But no • withstanding this device, the Victory fell to the French ; so that all the Englishmen almost were slain, with the Lord Woodvile himself; besides six thousand Britain's • The Duke of Orleans and the Prince of Orange, who were there on the Britain • s part, were taken Prisoners. The French lost twelve hundred men; and amongst other • that valiant Italian Captain James G • le • t.
This news being brought into England, caused king H ••• y to make haste to send forth his Army: and thereupon, the Lord Brooke, with Sir John Cheyny, Sir John Middleton, Sir Ralph Hilton, Sir Richard Corbet, Sir Thomas Leighton, Sir Richard Lacon, & Sir Edmund Cor •• all, are sent over with all speed into Britain ; having with them eight thousand men, to aide the Duke of Britain against the French. But while this war was thus set forward, the Duke of Britain died; leaving in effect, one only Daughter, the Lady A •• e (for the other being the younger, died soon after) and then the chief Rulers of Britain falling at dissention amongst themselves, little regarded the defense of the Country: whereupon the English returned home, within five months after their setting forth: and the French king getting the upper hand of the Britain's, and marrying the Lady Anne sole daughter of the Duke of Britain, incorporated that Duchy to the Crown of France.
In the last Parliament, a Subsidy was granted, for the furnishing out an Army into Britain ; and it was agreed, that every man should be taxed after the rate of his substance, to pay the tenth penny of his goods: which Tax the most part of Yorkshire and the Bishopric of Durh •• refused to pay: whereof the Collectours complained to He • ry E. of Northumberland, President of the North parts. The E. signifies it to the King; and the K. commands him to levy the same, by distress or otherwise (without sparing of any) as he should think most meet. The rude multitude, hearing of this Command from the King, with great violence set upon the Earl, by the exciting of a simple fellow named John a Chamber ; and alleging all the fault to be in the Earl, as chief author of the Tax; they cruelly murdered both him and divers of his household servants. And to make good their seditious fact, they assembled a great number, and made one Sir John Egremond their Captain: Declaring, that in defense of their liberties, they would bid the King battle. In this bravery they stood, as long as none opposed them: but when Thomas Earl of Surry appeared with an Army, though they skirmished a while, yet they were soon discomfited, and their Ring-leader John a Chamber was taken, and at York on a Gibbet set upon a square pair of Gallows, like an arch Traytour was hanged, and many of his Complices on a lower Gallows; the innocent people for the most part Pardoned. But Sir John Egremond fled into Flanders, to the Lady Margaret Duchess of Burgundy ; the common and sure refuge for all Rebels against King Henry. After this, the king appointed Sir Richard Tu • st • ll to gather the Subsidy, and would not spare the payment of a penny. This year, notwithstanding this Tax, the king borrowed of every Alderman of London two hundred pounds, and of the Chamber nine thousand eighty two pounds seventeen shillings and four pence, which was paid again at the time with great thankfulness; which he did at a time he needed no • , to the end perhaps he might do it another time, when he needed.
At this time, James the third, king of Scotland, having by some errors of Government incurred the hatred of his Nobility and people; labored with king Henry, as also with the Pope, and the king of France, to make an Accord between him and his people, who had compelled Prince James his Son, to be the Titular head of those Arms which they assumed against him. The kings accordingly interposed their mediations by Ambassadors; but could receive no other but this outrageous answer, That there was no talking of Peace, unless he would resign his Crown. Which answer the kings protested against, declaring by their Ambassadors, that they thought it a common injury done to themselves, and that the Example was not sufferable, for Subjects to lift their hands against their Sovereign. Hereupon it came to a Battle, at B • nnocks-borne by Strivelin: where king James, rashly beginning the fight, before his whole Forces were come, was (notwithstanding the contrary commandment of the Prince his son) slain in the Mill of that field, whither he fled, after the Battle ended.
About this time, a Difference fell out which grew to a War, between the Emperor Frederick, and some Towns of his in Flanders, especially Gaunt and Bruges: In this war, the Lord Ravenstein a principal person about Maximilian, not only forsook the Emperor and his son Maximilian his Lord, (corrupted as was thought from France ) but made himself head of the popular party, seizing upon the Towns of Ipre and Sluce: and not this only, but forthwith sent to the Lord de Cords Governor for the French king in Picardie, to aid him against some Towns in Flanders: To which the Lord de Cords, willing of any occasion to set foot in Flanders, was easily drawn. But king Henry not liking to have the French so near his English pale, sent over the Lord Morley with a thousand men, who should join with the L. Dawbeney then Deputy of Calais, to resist them. Amongst other acts by them performed, this was chief; That the Lord Dawbeney, with the Lord Morley, Sir James Tyrrell Captain of Guisn • s, Sir Henry Willoughby, Sir Gilbert Talbot, and Sir Humphrey Talbot Marshall of Calais, and others to the number of two thousand, issued secretly one night out of Calais, and came to Newport, and from thence to Dix •• e ; where the Lord Dawbeney commanded all men to send back their hors • s: wh • ch the Lord Morley only refusing to do, was cause that he only of all the Captains was sl • ine with a Gun: for the rest, after their arrows discharged, fell prostrate to the ground; by which means the Enemies Ordnance overshot them, k • lling only the Lord Morley that was on horse-back. Here they slew of the Enemy, to the number of eight thousand; of the English part was slain the Lord Morley, and not above a hundred more. This Victory so enriched the English, that they who went forth in clothe, came home in silk; and they who went out on foot, returned back on horse-back. Upon this Defeat, the Lord de Cords lying at Ypre with twenty thousand men, and thinking to be revenged, besieged the Town of Newport ; and so strongly assaulted it, that one day his men entered, and set up his Banner upon a Tower of the Town: when suddenly a Bark arriving with only fourscore • resh English archers, so terrified them, thinking their number to be far greater, that the French were glad to leave their Banner behind them, and give over the assault; and the night following, the Lord de Cords (who so much longed for Calais, that he would commonly say, he could be content to lie seven years in Hell, so that Calais were in the poss • ssion of the French) brake up his siege, and returned to Helding with as much shame, as the English to Calais with honor.
A little before this t • me, Francis Duke of Britain dying, left only one daughter, the Lady Anne, affianced to Maximilian King of the Romans; and in so solemn a manner, that she taking upon her to be the Bride, and being laid in her bed, was contented to permit Maximilians Deputy, in presence of many Noble witnesses, as well men as women, to put his leg, stripped naked to the knee, between the spousall sheets; accounting that Ceremony to amount to a Consummation. The King of France likewise had been contracted to the Lady Margaret daughter to the foresaid Maximilian, and had received her to that end: Yet all this notwithstanding, out of a violent desire to join the Duchy of Britain to the Crown of Fr •• ce, he disanulled and made void both the Contracts. But to the end he might do it without opposition of the King of England, he sent Ambassadors, the Lord Francis of L •• zemburg, Charles Marignane, and Robert Gaguine, to King Henry ; partly to conclude a Peace, but chiefly to procure king He • ries good will to make void the foresaid contracts: to which though king Henry was not willing to give consent, yet he consented willingly to have a Treaty for Peace: and to that end, sent over Tho • as Earl of Ormond, and Thomas Goldenston Prior of Christ's Church in Canterbury, to the French King about it. But during this Treaty, and before conditions of Peace could be agreed on, the French King had gotten into his poss • ssion the Lady Anne of Britain, and solemnly married her. Which under-hand dealing so incensed King Henry, that he presently called his High Court of Parliament, and there declared the just cause he had of War with France, desiring their Benevolence towards the charge thereof; which was as readily granted as desired, and great sums of money were soon collected.
In the year 1491, being the sixth year of the Kings Reign, on the sixth of April, the Nobility of the Realm assembled in the Cathedral Church of St. Paul in London ; where also was the Major and Aldermen, and principal Citizens in their liveries: to whom D. Morton Lord Chancellor made an Oration; declaring from his own letters, that the King of Spain had won the great and rich City and Country of Granado from the Moors, which had been in their possession above seven hundred years: and having in places of their superstition, built Churches to the honor of Christ, was thereupon entitled the Catholic King. For joy whereof, Te De • m was sung with great solemnity.
In the month of May was holden a solemn Justing, at the kings Palace of She • e, now called Richmond, which continued the space of a month; sometimes within the Palace, and sometimes without, upon the green before the gate; in which Justs, Sir James Parker running against a Gentleman named Hugh Vaughan, by reason of a faulty Helmet, was stricken into the mouth at the first course; so that his tongue was borne to the hinder part of his head, in such sort that he died presently upon the place.
And now Maximilian having received back his daughter from the king of France, was so displeased, that he presently sent an Ambassador, one James Contibald to king Henry, requiring him to take his part in a war against the French king; towards which he promised to provide ten thousand men, with pay for two years: king Henry consented to it; and having p • ovided himself of a puissant Army, on the sixth day of October, sailed to Calais ; but sending his Almoner Christopher • rswi • ke, and Sir John Resley to Maximilian, requiring his promised forces; they found him altogether unprovided of either men or money: which brought king Henry into a great straight what he should do: To proceed in the war with his own forces alone, would be • ull of hazard; To return home without doing anything, would bring an imputation upon him amongst his Subjects; as though he had used the pretence of war, but as a trick to get money: at last, he resolved to do something; and thereupon, went and besieged Boloigne, having in his Army of chief Lord's, Jasper Duke of Bedford, his Lieutenant General, Thomas Marquess Dorset, the Earls of Arundell, Oxford, Suffolk, Shrewsbury, Darby, Ke • t, Devonshire and Ormond, sundry Barons, as D • wbeney, Aburgayny, De la Ware, Zouch, Hastings, Cobham and others. During his siege of Boloigne, (in which there were but few slain, and no man of note, but Sir John Savage, who riding to take view at what place the town might best be assaulted, was set upon by certain French men, and by them slain) King Henry was secretly dealt with by the Lord Cords Governor of Heynault, on the king of France 's behalf, to accept of certain conditions of Peace. Who thereupon sent Richard Fox Bishop of Exceter, and Giles Lord Dawbeney to conclude them; which amongst other Articles were, That king Henry without quitting his claim to France, should for a Peace to continue during the two kings lives, receive in present of Charles king of France, for his charges in that war, seven hundred forty and five thousand Dockets, which in English money amounts to one hundred eighty six thousand two hundred and fifty pounds; and five and twenty thousand crowns yearly, towards the expenses he had been at before in aiding the Britain's ; which (by the English, called Tribute) was duly paid, during all the Kings Reign, and also to king Henry his Son afterward, longer then it could continue upon any computation of charges. There were also assigned by the French king unto all king Henries principal Counselors, great pensions, besides rich gifts for the present. Which whether the king did permit, to save his own purse from Rewards, or to communicate the envy of a business that was displeasing to his people, was diversely interpreted: for certainly, the King had no great fancy to own this Peace; and therefore a little before it was concluded, he had underhand 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, that he might have it show for justifying himself, and to give some allay to the discontentments of many, who had sold and engaged their Estates, upon the hopes of the war. After the Peace thus concluded, he went to Calais,