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Hen: Do: Cary Baro de Leppington Comes Monmouthensis, et Hon mi Ord: Baln iae Eques.
DEO CARI NIHILO CARENT

Guil: Faithorne fe:

CAROLVS D.G. MAGNAE BRITANNIAE FRAN: ET HIB: REX
MARIA D.G. MAG: BRITANNIAE FRANCIAE ET HIBER REGINA

AN HISTORY of the Ciuill Warres of ENGLAND betweene the two howses of Lancaster and Yorke

The originall where of is set downe in the life of Richard y e second; theire proceedings in y e lives of Henry y e 4 th Henry y e 5 th and 6 th Edward y e 4 th and 5 th Richard y e 3 d and Henry y e 7 th in whose dayes they had a happy period.

Englished by y e Right Hon ble Henry Earle of Monmouth in two Volumes

Imprinted at London for Iohn Benson & are to be sould at his shop in S t Dū ­stans churchyard 1641

AN HISTORY OF THE Civill VVarres OF ENGLAND, Betweene the two Houses of Lancaster and Yorke.

The originall whereof is set downe in the life of Richard the second; their proceedings, in the lives of Henry the fourth, the fifth, and sixth, Edward the fourth and fifth, Richard the third, and Henry the seventh, in whose dayes they had a happy period.

Written in Italian in three Volumes, by Sir Francis Biondi, Knight, Gentleman of the Privie Chamber to his Majesty of Great Britaine.

Englished by the Right Honourable HENRY Earle of MOUNMOUTH, in two Volumes.

THE FIRST VOLUME.

Imprinted at London by T. H. and I. D. for Iohn Benson, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dustans Churchyard, 1641.

THE TRANSLATORS EPISTLE TO THE REA­DERS HIS COUNTRIMEN.

THat Translations are at the best but like the wrong side of Hang­ings, is granted. Yet he who can­not get to see the right side, may by the other guesse at the Story therein represented. This of mine may yet seeme to be of a worse condition; as onely the reducing back to our owne Language that which hath beene collected from our home Stories, and published in a forreigne Tongue; so as it may almost be termed the turning into English what was turned out of English. But the Authour hath had his end: the making the valour and honour of our Kingdome knowne to his owne Countreymen; for which we owe him a Nationall thankes. I have chosen this way to pay mine, by affording you all a means how to acknowledge yours, and thus I have part of my end likewise. The remainder being my observance of his desires, and the shunning of spending my time worse The Italian saith, Chi non puo quel che voule, quel che puo voglia. If I could coine anie thing out of my owne Braine, worthy of my Countrey­men, they should have it: since not, let them accept of this Piece of Gold changed into Silver, and therein of the good will of their

Compatriot MOUNMOUTH.

THE AVTHORS EPISTLE DEDICATORY, To the High and mighty Monarch, CHARLES, King of great BRITAINE, FRANCE and IRELAND.

I Was of opinion, Sir, that the eminent condition of Princes did require from such as serve them, actions answerable to the greatnesse of their thoughts, and that otherwise they would prove con­trary to the dignity of the one, and duty of the other. But upon better advice, I found that Princes make use of men as they do of mettals, which though not all of a like worth, yet are they all adapted to proper uses; so as iron and lead, (though of meane esteeme) are not to be slighted in things where gold and silver are of no use. I, Sir, that am the meanest of all your Majesties metalls, having undertaken to write the story of the Civill warres of England, was in some dispute with my selfe touching the Dedication. And though in all reason I was to dedicate it to your Majesty (as I most humbly doe) yet the thread of my discourse wanting the mentioned pro­portion, I have laboured to perswade my selfe to offend rather against it then against my duty; not that I ever imagined my lead could be any ways servicable unto your Ma tie, but that I faine would hope your Majesty through Royal clemency wil [Page] be pleased to approve of my resolution occasioned by the lea­sure times your Majesties liberality causeth me to enjoy.

The reason, Sir, why I write it not from its beginning, is my not being sure to finish it. To make therefore an entire story, I have chosen that part thereof which is to be handled under one title and object. And I have written it in this lan­guage, for that Italy, though rich in science and history, is but meanely furnished with this story, having had no light at all thereof save by Polidore Virgill, who by writing it in Latine, hath made only for the learned, and by making it so succinct, hath afforded me field room to make it for all men, and to adde many things to the much, which perhaps (for lacke of time) was by him omitted.

I know not Sir, whether the freedome I take in giving my opinion upon the passages herein, be to please all men, but a bare story seemed to me to be like a naked body, which ex­posed to the injury of ayre, groweth infirme, and being seene by others is ashamed. Some are of opinion that all things ought to be represented in their originall purity, that so the li­berty of giving judgement might be left unto the reader; yet the best both of ancient and moderne writers have done o­therwise. But a whole peece of cloath being presented to the Readers view, he cannot judge whether all the threads bee of equall goodnesse, unlesse the weaver, who knowes from whence he had them give him a true information; not ther­by taking from him the liberty of giving his judgement, but rather affording him a double freedome therein, for to the examination of the story he adds the power of examining the historians opinion: I prayse goodnesse, and blame vice, but in the second Volumne I doe not praise the soft unsinnowy goodnesse of Henry the sixth. Xenophon decyfering a perfect Prince in the person of Cyrus, amongst exercises prescribes him hunting; not that by the custome of seeing blood shed hee should become cruell, but that by not commiserating de­linquents, he might become just; and not abhorring the sight of dead beasts, warlike; otherwise contaminated with a wo­manish pitty, he would at the same time have made him inca­pable both of scepter and sword. Goodnesse though feminine [Page] by name is of masculine effects; and fixing its undazled eies upon God its primary end, ought to become void of folly, scruples and feares.

I am sorry, Sir, I was so late in undertaking this affaire, since I am too late aware that contemplative sciences do in their uni­versall objects produce particular ends, bring delight and glo­ry to the understanding, no profit; that truth may sow the seeds, but opinion reape the harvest, that we are not wise, save when we know, we know nothing, which is that learned ig­norance so ingeniously handled by the Cardinall of Cusa; I place not here divine knowledge [...] she hath two reall foun­dations to be esteemed such; prophesies, miracles, and histo­ries take from this number. But since we are taught to know no more then is behoovefull, and that with sobriety, and ac­cording to the gift we are endowed with all, I see not that we are necessitated to busie our selves therin, unlesse there be a lawfull vocation, whilst we ought to content our selves with the know­ledge of God, by the generall way of the worlds harmony and order, and by the particular way of faith.

The true cause then, Sir, which hath moved me to this undertaking, is the having considered that the end of civil life, being to live well and happily, and that there is no happinesse without knowledge, nor knowledge without science, since those of contemplation doe not, it must be the morall sciences which doe produce it: the which appeareth manifest unto me, for that nature hath imprinted in us the principalls there­of, to make it the more easie unto us, to the end that without contemplation or learning, the learned and unlearned may be equally capable therof, agevolated by their object, the which is either familiar in us, as are affections, or hath dependency upon us, as have actions. As soone as we are borne, by the traditions of our parents, and such as have the care of our bringing us up, we learne to love vertue, and hate vice; being become men, to governe our family; growne more mature, to rule the weale publique: and if we meet not with so much of facility in the last, as in the other two, it happeneth for that morall and Oeconomicall vertues are but the Columnes, whereas the practice of States, the knowledge of Princes, and [Page] how to manage people, are the true structure of this edifice, up­on the modell though of past events. For as wits though never so excellent expresse no other conceits then what have formerly been expressed (sine they cannot exceed the bounds wherewith knowledge in generall is limited) so adventures, though casuall, happen not but by way of Analogy to what hath already happened; depending upon the constant causes of former orders, the which though diverse in time, are, not­withstanding at all times like unto themselves, if not equall. So as since we are wanting in the practice of present affaires, the knowledge of what is past is necessary, the which not be­ing to be had but by history, it followeth that history be the safest way to this happinesse, worthy to be with all diligence frequented, not by me alone, but by the very best. This, Sir, is the occasion of my present labours; which I consecrate unto your Majesty not so much for that they appertaine un­to you (containing the Acts of your most glorious pre­decessours) as that your Majesty possessing all such di­scipline as does become a great King, will together with the worke accept the devoted good will of the workeman, who boasts himselfe of nothing more then of the honour he hath to be

Your Majesties most hmble and faithfull servant Giovanni Francisco Biondi.

THE GENEALOGY OF EDWARD THE THIRD, Who had Five Daughters, and seven Sons.

  • 1. IZabella, who married Ingheran Lord of Cousi, by whom shee had two daughters,
    • 1. Mary, married to Henry of Bar.
    • 2. Philippa, married to Robert Vere, Duke of Ireland, afterwards repudiated.
  • 2. Ioane, married to Alfonso 11. King of Castile and Leon.
  • 3. Blanch, who dyed young.
  • 4. Mary, married to Iohn Montford, Duke of Britany.
  • 5. Margaret, married to Iohn Hastings, Earle of Pembroke, who dyed without issue.
  • 1. Edward Prince of Wales, who married Ioane daughter of Edmund Earle of Kent, brother by the fathers side to Edward the second, by whom he had Richard the se­cond, who succeeded his Grandfather in the Kingdome, and dyed a violent death without issue.
  • 2. William of Staifield.
  • 3. Lionel, Duke of Clarence.
  • 4. Iohn of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster.
  • 5. Edmund of Langley, Duke of Yorke.
  • 6. William of Windsor.
  • 7. Thomas of Woodstocke, Duke of Glocester.
  • The two Williams both dyed young without issue.
  • The Genealogies of the foure other are hereafter set downe.

The Genealogy of Lionel Duke of Clarence, third Sonne of Edward the third.

Lionel duke of Clarence married Eli­zab. daugh­ter of Will. Burgh earle of Vister. by whō he had
Philippa, who married Edmund Mortimer, Earle of March, and had by him
  • Roger, Earle of March. declared by Richard the second successour to the Kingdome the yeare 1387 who married Elizabeth, sister to Thomas Holland Duke of Surrey, and had issues
    • Edmund Earle of March, who died in Ireland without issue, the third yeare of Henry 6.
    • Roger, who died young.
    • Anne, who married Richard Earle of Cambridge, sonne to Ed­ward Duke of Yorke; she after­wards laid pretence unto the crown.
    • Eleanor, who dyed without issue.
  • Edmund.
  • Iohn, beheaded in the third yeare of Henry the sixt.
  • Elizabeth, married to the Lord Pearcy, sur­named Hot­spurre.
    Henry, the second Earle of Northumberland, who was staine in the first bat­tell at S t Albans, who by Eleanor daughter of Ralph Nevil, first Duke of Westmerland, had
    Henry, the third Earle of Northum­berland, who was slain siding with Henry the sixt, against Edward the fourth.
  • Philippa, who had three husbands, but no issue.

The Genealogy of Iohn Duke of Lancaster, fourth son of Edward the third, from whom came 4. Kings, viz. Henry the 4. 5. 6. 7. Of 3. wives he had 8. children, what Sonnes, what Daughters.

By Blanch, daughter to Henry Duke of Lancaster, grandchild to Henry Earle of Lancaster, & great grand­child to Ed­mund, second sonne to Hen­ry the 3.
  • Henry the 4. married to Mary daughter to Hum­frey of Bohun, Earle of Hertfora Essex, and Not­tingham, Con­stable of England, by whom he had
    • Henry the 5. marriea to Ca­therine of France; by whom he had
      Henry the 6. who married Margerit, daugh­ter to Regnald Duke of A [...]ou, King of Si [...]ily from whom came
      Edward, Prince of Wales slaine by Ed­ward the 4.
    • who all died without issue.
      • Thomas, duke[?] of Clarence,
      • Iohn, [...]uke of Bedford.
      • Humfrey, duke of Gloster.
    • Blanch, married to the Elector Palatine.
    • Philippa, married to the King of Denmarke.
  • Philippa, married to Iohn King of Portugal, from whom came the suc­cessors of that Crowne.
  • Elizabeth, mar­ried to Iohn Hol­land, Duke of Exeter, behea­ded at Chester.
    • Richard Holland, who dyed young. Iohn, Duke of Exeter, who had two wives, viz.
    • Anne, daughter of the Earle of Stafford, by whom
      Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter, dis-inhe [...]ited by Act of Parliament the first yeare of Edward the fourth, and found [...]ad the thirteenth yeare betweene Dover and Caleis.
    • Anne, daughter to Ioh. Montacute earl of Salisbury, by whom
      Anne, married to Thomas Nevil, brother to the se­cond Earle of Westmerland.
      Ralph Nevil, 3. Earle of West­merland
    • Edward, who died without issue.
By Constance, daughter to Peter, King of Castile,
Catherine, married to Henry, son and heyre to Iohn King of Castile and Leon, from whom descended the heires of those Kingdomes.
By Cathe­rine Roët, daughter to a King of Armes, by whom hee had before he married her, and who were after made legiti­mate by the Popes au­thority and Act of Par­liament,
  • Iohn Beaufort, Marquis of Sommerset and Dorset, who married Margerit, daugh­ter to Thomas Holland, Earle of Kent.
    • Henry, who dyed young. Iohn, first Duke of Sommerset, who maried Mar­gerite daughter to Sr. Iohn Beau­champ.
      Margerite, married to Ed­ward Adham earl of Richmond.
      Henry the 7. who married Elizabeth daughter to Henry the 4.
    • Edmund, Duke of Sommerset, slaine in the [...]at­tell at S. Albans, who married Ele­nor, daughter of Richard Beau­champ, Earle of Warwicke.
      • Henry, Duke of Sommerset, be­headed, an. 1462.
        Charls Sommerset Earle of Worcester, bastard.
      • Edmund, Duke of Sommerset, behea­ded, Anno 1471. dying without heyrs.
      • Iohn, slaine at the battell of Teuks­bury.
    • Thomas.
    • Ioane, married to Iames the first, King of Scotland.
    • Margerite, married to Thomas Courtney Earle of Devonshire.
      • Thomas, E. of Devonsh. beheaded.
      • Henry, beheaded.
      • Iohn, slaine at Teuksbury.
  • Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, Cardinall of St. Eusebius, and Chan­cellor of England
  • Thomas Beaufort, Earle of Dorset, Duke of Exeter, and Chancellor of England.
  • Ioane Beaufort, for whose issue looke the next lease.
Iane Beaufort, married to Ralph Nevill, Earle of Westmerland.
Richard Nevil, Earle of Salisbu­ry, beheaded, who married Elenor, daughter to Tho­mas Montigue, Earle of Salis­bury. William, Lord of Faulkenbridge Edward, Earle of Abergaveny. George, Lord Latimer. Robert, Bishop of Durham. Cuthbert. Henry. Thomas.
Richard Nevil, Earle of Salisbu­ry and Warwicke, surnamed, The great, he married Anne, daughter of Richard Beau­champ, Earle of Warwicke.
Isabel, wife of George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence, brother to Ed­ward the fourth, drow­ned in a But of Malm [...]y.
  • Edward, Earl of War­wicke, last heyre male of the Plantagenet, he was beheaded.
  • Margerite, Countesse of Salisbury, wife to Richard Poole, be­headed the 13. yeare of Henry the 8. she was mother to Cardinall Poole.
Anne, wife to Edward, Prince of Wales son to Henry 6. he was slaine by the Duke of Glocester, who after married the said Anne.
Edward Prince of Wales, who died before his Father.
Iohn, Marquis Montigue, who maried the daugh­ter of S r Edward Engelthorpe. George, Arch­bishop of York, and Chancellour of England.
  • George Nevil, Duke of Bedford, degraded to­gether with his father, for not having left suffici­ent meanes to maintaine their honour.
  • Luce, first married to Sir Thomas Fitz-Williams, then to Sir Antho­ny Browne, by whom
    • William, Earle of Southam­pton.
    • S t Anthony Browne.
Iane, married to Will. Fitz-Allen, Earle of Arundel.
Thomas Fitz-Allen, Earle of Arundel.
William Earle of A­rundel.
Elenor, wife to Thomas Stanley Earle of Darby.
  • George, Baron Strange
    Thomas, Earle of Darby.
  • Edward, Lord Mounteagle.
  • Iames, Bishop of Ely.
Catherine, wife to Iohn Mou­bray, second duke of Norfolke.
Iohn, duke of Nor­folk married to Ele­nor, daughter of the Lord Bourchier.
Iohn, duke of Norfolk married to Elizabeth, daughter to Geo. Tal­bot, 1. earle of Shrewsb.
Anne, wife to Ri­chard, Duke of York second son of Edward the fourth.
Elenor, wife to Henry Pearcy, second Earle of Northumberland slaine in the ser­vice of Henry 6. in the first battell at Saint Albans.
Henry, the third earle of Northum­berland, slaine in the like service, who married E­lenor, daughter to Richard, Lord Poinings.
Henry, the fourth Earle of Northumber­land, slaine by the peo­ple, for leavying a taxe imposed by Henry the seventh, and the Parlia­ment, he married Maud­lin, daughter to the earle of Pembrocke.
  • Henry, the fifth earle of Northumberland.
  • William.
  • Allen, a Bishop.
  • Iocelin.
  • Elenor, married to Edward Stafford, duke of Buckingham.
  • Anne, wife to Willi­am Fitz-Allen, Earle of Arundel.
Anne, wife to Humfrey Staf­fo [...]d, first Duke of Buckingham, slaine in the first battel at North­hampton.
Humfrey, Earle of Stafford, slaine in the first battell of S t Albans; he married Margerite, si­ster to Edward Beaufort Duke of Sommerset.
Henry, second Duke of Sommerset▪ beheaded by Richard 3. he married Catherine, sister to Ri­chard Woodville, Earle Rivers.
  • Edward, Duke of Buckingham.
  • Henry of Wilt­shire, both behea­ded by Henry the 8.
Iohn Stafford, Earle of Wiltshire, married to Constance, daughter to Sir Henry Greene.
Edward Stafford, Earle of Wiltshire.
Catherine, wife to George Talbot, Earle of Shrews­bury.
George, E. of Shrews­bury, married to Anne, daughter to the Lord Hastings.
  • Francis, Earle of Shrewsbury.
  • Margerite, married to Henry Clifford, Earle of Cumberland.
Sicely, of whose issue see the next leafe.
Sicely, married to Richard Plantage­net, Duke of Yorke, who waged warre with Henry the 6. as lawfull pre­tender to the Crowne, hee was slaine in the battell of Wakefield.
King Edward the 4. who married Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Woodville, Earle Ri­vers.
King Edward the 5. Richard, duke of York.
Both slaine in the Towe [...] by their uncle Richard 3
Elizabeth, married to Henry the 7.
Arthur, prince of Wales. Henry the 8.
Catherine, married to William Courtney, earle of Devonshire.
Henry, Earle of De­vonshire, and Marquis of Exeter, beheaded by Henry the 8.
Edmund, who died in the battell with his Father.
George, Duke of Cla­rence, drowned in a But of Malmsey in the To­wer, he married Isabel, daughter to Richard Nevil, Earle of War­wicke.
  • Edward, Earle of Warwicke, beheaded under Hen­ry the 7.
  • Margerite, Countesse of Salisbury, married to S r Richard Poole, behea­ded under Henry the 8.
    • Henry, Lord Monti­gue, beheaded under Henry the 8.
    • Reginald Poole, Car­dinall.
    • Vrsula, married to Hen­ry Lord Stafford, sonne and heyre to Edward, last Duke of Bucking­ham.
Richard, Duke of Glocester, by tyrannicall usurpation, called afterward Richard the 3. who married Anne, daughter to Ri­chard Nevil, Earle of Salisbury and Warwicke.
Edward, Prince of Wales, who died during his fathers life.

THE INTRODVCTION.

MY intention is to write the story of England, for as much as concernes the C [...]vill Wars of that King­dome, from their first rise, to their happy period. Events, which the lesse they be known forth of those Climats, the more worthy are they of others knowledge. Civill knowledge accounts not him wise who applies himselfe only to what concernes his owne Country, but who enlargeth his understanding to the universall knowledge of all Nations. Such as are unexperienced and too passionatly g [...]ven to the love of their owne Country doe▪ vsually misprise for­raine occurrences; whilst alteration in governments doth vary those vertues in them by which they acquired a name above o­thers. The Assyrians, Medes, and Persians, the Macedonians Greeks, and Romans, doe witnesse this unto us; people ought not to boast of what they were, but (if there be any occasion of ostentation) of what they for the present are. Barbarisme is not so generall in the now present times, as in times past: of as many Nations as are, there is not any one who at this day can vaunt her selfe to be the law­giver unto others. What is wanting in some one is peeced up by the advantages which some others have not. This discipline of warre, learning, the liberall sciences, arts mechanicall, and civill comport­ment are so diffused, as those who last embraced them, are like to cisternes, which doe more abound with water then doe the house tops and gutters, from which they did at first fall. There was a time when the Grecians had presumption enough to repute the Ro­mans barbarous; their condition shewes us how much they were deceived. The Vandalls, Lombards and Gothes were civilized at the cost of the Roman Empire. Where luxury and vice increase, their dominion decreaseth, and together with the rigor of the mind, civility it selfe; which is not defined by ceremoniall complements, but by the strong effect of a judicious understanding. England, then Albion, and now Britaine, a Country not fully knowne before Cae [...]ars time: from the entry of the Romans fell to be one of the [Page] most noted, and most glorious Monarcnies of the world. She did not send multitudes of people abroad: for abounding in whatsoever is requisite to nature (and that in some perfection) she haa no need of other Colonies, nay her owne abundance and fertility was such, as invited her being oppugned; whilst divided, and under the command of many, she remayned a prey to them that did assaile her. I intend not to speake of her beginning; so long a work sutes not with so short a life as is mine. I will take my rise from her Civill warres, which will shew unto us what evill effects states divided within themselves doe produce; and how that nature to render this peo­ple valiant, tooke from them the apprehension of death, the onely thing which makes men base and cowards; not that an inclination to peace bee not to bee numbred amongst the greatest hapinesses of man­kind, but for that the world being what it then was, and what it will be to the end, humblenesse and meeknesse ought only to be accounted amongst individuall vertues: So as if people be not of themselves fierce, they shall alwaies be subject to the neglect and injuries of such as esteeme a pleasing behaviour no vertue, but a weaknesse of na­ture. The praise of mansuetude in one or a few, is not incompati­ble with valour, but in a whole nation it is as much to be blamed as it is the occasion of harme. For vertue or vice are not judged by Morall or Theologicall termes, but by the good or bad effects which from thence may ensue. The Brittans were not subject to such de­fects; and though they made triall of many, ebbes of fortune being miserably inforced (if we may beleeve Gilda) to invoke the Ro­man assistance, it was for that they were divided in their forces and inclinations. But being brought under one absolute King, they appeared to bee all members of one solide body, of force not to bee conquered, and of minde alternatly disposed, either to preserve their reputations or dye. They have obtained famous victories, though fewer in number by two thirds. The battell of Cressi and Poictiers witnes this unto us; but more particularly those that we are to meet withall in this our story: their minds were at first wholy set upon liberty, so as free from forraine feare, they oftentimes would boggle at their own kings, who though they were absolute, bad not withstan­ding their Monarchy so well upheld by the Lawes, that they could hardly fall from regall power to oppression. And though the jealousie of this libertyhath sometimes been very great in these people, even [Page] to the making of them headstrong and seditious, yet inconvenien­ces which doe incidently happen, ought not to be of power enough to take from the substance of that government, the title of a well go­verned Commonwealth. And though it be not voide of faults (hea­ven being the onely perfect Monarchy) yet not such as are cause of mischiefe. They are not taxed or oppressed; without grievance or new impositions. And whereas the Country people in other parts walke bare foot and bare legged, with tattered cloathes, and leane lookes: beere well cloathed and well liking, they in substance are, and in apparell seeme to be honorable and wealthy Citizens. But it is plainely seene by them that men are weary of well doing. For ignorant of other mens miseries, when they want their wonted warres, and triumphes, they thinke themseves miserable, whilst in comparison of as many as I know, they are the happiest nation in the world. Nor is the authority of their kings lessened by this liberty: when they are vertuous and frugall, or else esteemed of for their victories and Trophees; they have done with their people even what they pleased. The two Henries the 5. and the 7 in this our story (not to make use of any out of it) are examples of this. Nor do their meane revenues in comparison of those excessive ones of other Kings make them lesse rich; for free from the extortion of great men, from main­taining of Citadell, Garisons, borse, confines: not troubled with Switzers, dependences, correspondencies, spies (all necessary ex­pences, be it for the preservation of ones owne, or the pretending to what is anothers) they need not have any more. They are secure at home, having no dependency but on the King: for abroad, the Sea is their ditch, their Citadell, thier Bul-warke; and their ships though their chiefest charge, yet ordinarily are of no vast expence. Besides, upon any extraordinary occurrence, their treasure is locked up in their subjects purses, from whence it is drawen by the usuall way of Parliament, without oppression or injury to any one: and what by this meanes is raysed, doth not (as in many other states) remaine a continuall revenue to the Prince. By the testimony of Philip de Comines, the revenue of France in Charles the sevenths time, did not exceed one hundred and fourescore thousand pound sterling. Vnder Lewis the leventh, they came to foure hundred and seventy thousand pounds sterling; the yeare 1608. under Henry the fourth, three millions one hundred thousand pound sterling. [Page] and at this present time under Lewis the thirteenth (if the relati­on be not false) it amounts to foure millions and five hundred thou­sand pounds Sterling, or more. Hence I inferre that the Kings of England walke in the eclyptique line of their government, ruled by two just counterpoises, regall authority, which makes them be o­beyed; and the Lawes, a just weight, equally fitted to shape forth a well constituted Aristodemocraticall government The people enjoy their liberty provided for by the Lawes: The Nobility such Honours and Offices as become their quality: and the King his will in making warre or peace: All confiscations and power of pardo­ning, the Lawes not having debarred him of anything which ap­pertaineth to an absolutely juridicall Prince. I thought good to touch upon these few things, for that necessary foreknowledge which may bee needfull to this our History: And if they may appeare strange to such as are borne under Princes who know no other Law then their owne will, they ought not to thinke it strange, that go­vernments to be good, ought (as all other sublunary things) to bee composed of more elements then one; and that their contrariety produeeth the unity which nature requires. The Gentiles did not without some great mystery faine their Gods to bee bound by fate, and by their swearing by the Stygian waters. For Princes are these Gods, their oathes by the Stygian waters, the oathes which at their Coronation they take for the good of the people: which would not be necessary for good Princes (for goodnesse is a Law unto it selfe) but as necessary for those who may happen not to be such, as are the soule and sense to a living body: nor ought they for this to thinke themselves ere a whit the lesse firmly rooted: for as God is the more potent for the impotency he hath to sinne, so their potency is more solide, whilst incorporated into the Lawes it becomes impeccable: otherwise if they stood onely upon their owne legges, hatred and feare, their naturall enemies, were borne coetaneans with them, to insnare them. These my prayses of this Nation may perchance ap­peare not to be true to him who shall consider the beginning of our story, since that passing over the relation of so many glorious Kings, I take myrise from the unfortunate reigne of Richard the second, who comming to the Crowne at eleven yeares of age, doth prove the miserable condition of such States as are governed by an in­tant King. But vertue and vice change together with the times; a [Page] necessary vicissitude in governments, not in a proper respect, but in respect of the generall; for if it were otherwise, people endowed with equall generosity, would either reciprocally destroy themselves, or else they would all fall under the command of some one who were more eminent in vertue then all the rest. Man hath his age pre­fixt, so have Kingdomes: to die of decrepite age is not usuall, of disorders usuall: Kingdomes perish more by disorders then by decrepit age: so as the people members of the King their [...]ead, can­not but languish when he languisheth. I conclude, that the end of these my slight endeavours are, to represent as in a looking glasse, to Princes moderation, to subjects obedience; for that violent changes draw after them slaughter, misery and destruction.

Errata. In the life of R. 2. of H. 4 and H. 5.

Page. 1. Line 10. Reade Cressy. ibid. 25. This. 3. 4. Leon. ibid. 36. attestate. 10. 38. Dukes. ibid. Flanckers. 18. 2. keyes. Ibid. 28. seize. 20. 2. to much wisedome. 31 6. not the nearnesse. 38. 9. Berkely 41. 14. incapable. 44. 1. the. 50. 21. who. 52. 26. Cor [...]eri. 53. 27. unprovided. 45. 22. lands. 55. 32. fell'd. 58. 2. King Richard had concluded for 30. yeares. ibid. if it had beene. ibid. 46. ille­gall. 59. 6. a tree water'd. ibid. 32. but under. ibid. 48. heire to Richard. Glendour, using. 69. 22. the oare. 70. 43. who. 74. 47. covering. 76. 45. Corbeil. 77. 6. might have been; if of. ibid. 18. Bourges. 79. 29. Mowb [...]ay. ibid. 26. bolder resolves: revenge being. 82. 1. intending. ibid. 39. and, in another. 89. 10. contumacy. ibid. 35. Angoulesme. 90. 24. Suburbs St. Ma [...]ceau. 91. 12. was onely. 101. 9 that the injury. 105. 7. a Carthusian. ibid. 13. Du Main. ibid. 20. examine whether the late. 106. 19 Meroveus were the son of Clodian. 107. 1. Clotharius. 110. 42. Malcolme. 111. 12. more peace nor lesse trouble. 113. 14. undertaken. ibid. 41. rewarder. 114. 3. Richard the third. 115. 19 Seine. ibid. 37. resolved. 116. 44. Eu. 118. 22. puft up. 119. 48 the arrowes. 120. 31. Bornonville. ibid. ead. Hembert d'Agincourt. ibid. 39. little lesse. 126. 37. Valentiana. 127. 48. Touque. 130. 34. to. 131 3 streets were (to. ibid. 5. Burgondy. ibid. 13. others sex for. 132. 9. Archery. ibid. 35. many. 143. 25. by the Duke. 145. 44. Montague. 146. 21. bloudy hands and Crocodiles teares. 148. 11. Bride. ibid. 15. Charenten. 149. 19. Villa nova. ibid. 27. rather to hinder the enemies. ibid. 47. mine. 152. 35. leaving. ibid. 37. that. ibid. 47. passion, which in. 154. 24. beset with jewels. 155. 37. Sw [...]ton. 157. 4. i [...] is he that. ibid. 8. any. ibid. 14. price. ibid. 17. Earle of Mortaigne. ibid. 24. Thiam. 158. 16 Marne invironing. ibid. 41. besiegers. 159. 35. Montague. ibid. 42. went to her. 160. 23. Senlis. 162. 18. armes, his.

Errata, in the life of Henry 6.

Page 7. Line 24. Reade, Iohn the fift. 10. 31. (being arm'd and in march). 11. 24. fortune. 15. 4. Iaqueline. 18. 8. Gough. 24. 6. Touraine. 29. 47. Amadeus. 30. 21. not to loose. ibid. 42. Ioyeuse. 38. 23. Argentres. Hall. 39. 42. a Dukedome. 42. 33. overburdened. 43. 35. This is worthy. 48. 21 yet are. ibid. 32. once. 56. 21. Hubbub. 57. 33. to the second. 67. 33. maugre those. 68. 18. Huts. 69. 29. Ioane. 72. 11. mission. 79. 13. river Soame, confining. 92. 29. Eugenius the 4. 104. 30. together all. 105. 41. Bruges. 106. 20. might serve. 107. 29. not but. ibid. 36. Roxborough. 112. 13. Iaquelina. 113. 18. haven. 114. 24. cultivated. ibid. 39. Henry. At the same time Longueville. ibid. 42. Charles his o­bedience; playing. 115. 17. Tholouse. ibid. 46. when. 117. 34. unto him his. 119. 18. Duchies. ibid. 31. enmity. 120. 21. Lewis. 121. 11. not able. 122. 1. Towne. ibid. 26 whomsoever. ibid 30. England. These were. 123. 33. environed with enemies. ib. in marg. 1443. 124. 26. a separation. 125. 43. not acknowledge God. 128. 12. humble, devout. ibid. 43. men and together with them the Queen, per­ceiving. 129. 20. a lover of his. 130. 48. Fougeres. 131. 9. did not approve. ibid. 29. would not faile. ibid. 35. Louviers. 132. 14. emborsed by them. ibid. 42. The Count of Dunois. 133. 22. by Charles to the. [...]bid. 36. of the same Castle. ibid. 43. Argenion. 134. 26. Fresnoy. ibid. 42. towres. ibid. 46. slaughter was greater of. 136. 48. the 8 of December. 137. 22. whence. ibid. 25. Bresse Lord high Marshall of Normandy, and. 138. 10. Guenne went handsomely forwards, though. ibid. 11. fast as. ibid. 12. Guis [...]in. ibid. 17. [...]. 138. 23. 60. ibid. 44. Fresnoy. 139. 7. Sir Matthew Gough, &c. up. ibid. 10. Formigni. ibid. 16. among which were T [...]el Mowbray and Sir Thomas Dr [...]w: Vere and Gough, with the. ibid. 23. that they. ibid. 41. Castres. 140. 48. Cheriburg. Bricquebec, Valonges. 141. 11. was very strong. ibid. 13. conceale. ibid. 42. that the. 142. 6. Falaise. 145. 28. They. ibid. 42. the. 148. 2. kinsman. ibid. 24. retire. 149. 31. with. ibid. 35. of some who shund. 150. 14. Eeden. 151. 35. 10000. 152. 15. found. 153. 42. he. 154. 19. sects, the one doth not beleeve the o­ther. 155. 9. State. ibid. 14 but. 156. 16. get. 161. 12. forbare not. ibid. 26. esteemed; so much the lesse to be. ibid. 48. Sudley. 162. 33. not notwithstanding. 166. 11. this. ib. 22. bestead. 169. 1. in­hibit. ib. 7. he. 170 49. but to restore. 172. 39. he should. 176. 45. were upon. 177. 4. cruelty.

The Reader may doe himselfe a pleasure, and me a courtesie, if, with his pen, he will correct these Errata before he reade the Book; which if it take so well as may give encouragement for a second Impression, I will take care the like shall not be committed.

THE CIVILL VVARRES OF ENGLAND. Richard the 2.

FRom foure Edwards did Richard the second de­scend: of which the first three were succeed­ing Kings; the fourth, Prince of Wales, furna­med the Blacke Prince, who dying before his Father Edward the third, did not attaine the Crowne. England could not boast of braver Princes, nor Europe of more gallant Comman­ders, then were the latter two; they brought home renowned victories; the blacke Prince, not yet fully sixteene yeares old, was victorious in the battell of Cresses, his Father being present, who denyed him succour, onely looking on whilest he with bare two thirds of 8500. men fought with little lesse then 90000. to the end that that worth which before its accustomed time did bud forth in him, might produce early fruits, watered by the Rivolets of glory and honour: and not many yeares after, being fewer by three fourths then were his enemies, hee in the battell of Poictiers tooke King Iohn of France prisoner, invironed by all the Princes and Nobility of that Kingdome: but dying not long after in the full growth of his glorious atchievements, he left behinde him this Richard, which did succeed his grandfather, the yeare 1377.

Edward the third had seven sonnes; foure whereof dyed during his life time: the first, as hath already beene said; the second and sixth with­out issue: and the third which was Lonel Duke of Clarence, left no other issue save Philip married to Edmond Mortimer, Earle of Marsh, of whom came Roger, and of Roger, Anne, the innocent cause of mischiefe to that kingdome; for being married to Richard Plantaginet, Earle of Cam­bridge, second sonne to Edmund Duke of Yorke, she inriched that Family by her just pretences to the Crowne, much more then by her portion, [Page 2] whereof her successors to the prejudice of the whole kingdome, did after­wards make use. For though the laying private claims to Estates be alwaies lawfull to the pretender, yet is it not alwaies expedient for the publique; nor are they easily obtained, but by unjust and cruell waies. Iohn Duke of Lancaster, Edmond and Thomas, the fourth, fifth, and seventh, were onely those who did outlive him. The latter two whereof were after­wards by their Nephew created Dukes; the one of Yorke, the other of Gloster. I will not here set downe their posterity, the reader may betake himself to the Genealogicall tables prefixed, by means whereof any who­soever (be he not brutishly ignorant both of the law of nature and king­doms) may give his judgement of the right or wrong of those who raigned: and if therein you shall not meet with the to be commiserated number of those of the blood Royal, who either through the obstinacie of hatred, or incivility of civill warres came immaturely to their end, the occasion will be, for that being descended of women, by former marriages expatiated into other families, cruelty would triumph in the diversity of spoiles, and begird her temples with a Crowne partly composed of the blood of ma­ny, who by their deaths reduced the blood Royall of England to a small number; the which whether it were expedient or not, and whether the multiplicity of pretenders be of use, or the contrary, to Kingdomes, let it be a dispute referred to the argumentation of good wits; though ex­treames being in all things bad, that seemes lesse harmefull which con­sists in the weaker breath of a few, then what in the violent whirlewindes of many; their authority and designes being able to dissolve, their oppo­sitions and jealousies able to raze whatsoever well founded Monarchy.

Richard was by nature endowed with amiable conditions, for being of a comely personage, and of a liberall and generous minde, he was likely to have proved like unto himselfe, had he had the fortune to have arrived at the maturity of his judgement under the guidance of his Grandfather, or father: but being freed from the authority of such as might have sweet­ned the asperity of his yeares, the fruits of such hopes as were conceived, were before their maturity corrupted; for infatuated by the soothing of his flatterers, and enforced by his servants affections (to which Princes through a maligne influence are usually subject) he hated all such coun­sells as did oppugne his minde; he rewarded such as did not contradict him, and being growneolder, he through wofull experience found, that his undoing was occasioned by his having equally offended kindred, Clergy, Nobility, and people.

Of the three Dukes, he of Yorke was of a sweet condition, given to pastime, void of ambition, a hater of businesse, nor did he trouble him­self with any, but for formalities sake; being thereunto constrained by his quality. The other two, Lancaster and Gloster, both of them ambitious, and turbulent, did notwithstanding differ in this; that whereas the for­mer endeavoured the encrease of his authority, by making himselfe to be feared, the other aspired to the like end, but by contrary meanes; Lan­caster declaring himselfe from the beginning to be an enemy to the people; Gloster if not by inclinations, by cunning, profestly popular.

First, Richard did much apprehend Lancaster, those who for their own particular interests did sooth him in his youthly desires, endeavoured [Page 3] to perswade him that Lancaster, who was an obstacle by them reputed too difficult for their designes, would have plots upon his person; but being gone into Spaine (his thoughts being fixt upon the Kingdomes of Castile and Lyons, to both which in the right of his second wife Con­stance he did pretend) he left Gloster to inherit these suspitions; who op­posing himselfe in all actions against his Nephew, after having provoked him by injuries, and by detractions vexed him, for his reward lost his life.

It is not my purpose to write all the acts of this King, a great part whereof I passe over; as the rebellion of the pesants, with intention to ex­tirpate together with the Nobility, himselfe; his expeditions in France in the pursuit of his Grandfathers and Fathers designes; in Flanders in the favour of Vrban the sixth against Clement, who called himselfe Pope in Avignon: in Ireland to tame the savagenesse of that people; in Scotland to represse inroades, and his marrying the sister of Winces [...]us the Empe­rour; I will onely treat of such things as caused his ruine, after having reigned 22. yeares.

Certaine men were at the first deputed unto him as well for the go­vernment of his person, as estate; whose plurall authority ensuing to bee more of burthen then benefit, it was reduced to the person of Thomas Beauchamp Earle of Warwicke, chosen to this charge by the unanimous consent of Parliament; but the King herewithall not contented (being by reason of his yeares unfit to governe, and by reason of his bad Councell not apt to be governed) began to alter this ordination, in the person of Richard Scrope, formerly by the Parliament chosen Chancellor of Eng­land, a man so void of blame in all his actions, as he was very worthy of the charge imposed upon him. The King amongst the most considerable jewells of his Crowne, hath one thereunto inchased by the Lawes; that those whose fathers dye in the nonage of their sonnes, fall under his tui­tion till the one and twentieth yeare of their age; all their revenew re­dounding from the aforesaid time to the King, save the third part which is reserved for their education: it now so fell out that by vertue of this pre­rogative, Richard enjoyed the income falne unto him by the death of the Earle of Marsh, and divers others; he in lieu of making use thereof him­selfe, gave them as donatives to many; such gifts being of no validity without a testate of the great Seale, the Chancellor would not give way thereunto, as well in consideration that the Kings debts being great hee ought himselfe to make use thereof, as likewise those on whom he did bestow them being men of no use nor merit, were altogether unworthy of such rewards; at which Richard being offended that his profusenesse (which by those who received the benefit thereof was termed liberality) should be questioned by an Officer, he forced him to relinquish the office, suspending the nominating of another in his place, that he himselfe might by the great seale which now remained in his custody, authorize it; lest being withstood by the former, he might meet with the like obstacle by him who should succeed him; and by this meanes, the doore being ope­ned to one inconveniency, it continued so to many others which ensued.

Of those who misled this young Prince in his resolutions, five there were who bare extraordinary sway with him, Alexander Nevil, Arch­bishop [Page 4] of Yorke, a man so well skilled in what belongs to Court affaires, as was not by his Priestly simplici [...]y to be allowed: Robert Vere, Earle of Oxford (a young man of no bad inclination, had he not beene corrupted by the rise of a great fortune) not without infamy, the onely favourite: Michael Poole a violent man, who from the sonne of a Merchant, was got to the honour of being Chancellor of England, and Earle of Suffolke; he was like a ship whcih not fit to beare so great sayle, oversets: Robert Tri­sillian, a very bold man, chiefe Justice, who having made the Lawes a snare, and Justice a pitfall for many, was at last served with the same sauce, being by them ignominiously put to death: and Nicholas Bambridge, Al­derman of London (one of those Citizens who nobly behaved them­selves in the sedition of the Pesants) hee had deserved an honourable re­membrance, had he not in the affaires of government proved as seditious as they.

The King was impatient of being subject to the Lawes of minority, as were his subjects, and that his desires should bee limited by the Lawes, and that himselfe should bee restrained by that authority which did de­rive from him: hee thought the order of the world in Princes did consist in disorder: a defect incident to those yeares: for youth takes little or no delight in any pleasures which are not seasoned with licentiousnesse: and he being naturally given to please those who pleased him, did all things against the haire; so to ease himselfe of that burden, which contrary to his nature he could not uninforced beare: his uncle of Lancaster was the burden which did most molest him: for being the prime man in the king­dome next to himselfe, all such as daily found themselves oppressed by the insolence or insatiatenesse of the favourites, had their recourse unto him. An aversion which though not good, was not yet without reason, the originall thereof being considered.

The King had formerly beene enformed by an Irish Carmelite Friar, that the Duke had secret plots upon the life of his Majesty, and though the accuser had much desired that this businesse might be kept secret till such time as being made good he might at leasure and with best conve­nience be attached. The King notwithstanding out of youthfull incon­stancy did communicate it to two of his Chaplaines, at a certaine time when the Duke came unexpectedly in: who finding himselfe not wel­comed according as he usually was, imagined that they were talking of him, and therefore withdrew himselfe into another chamber; the Chap­laines doubting their owne safety (for the Duke could not but suspect somewhat) advised the King to make it knowne unto him, which he did. Wherefore calling for him, he acquainted him with his accusation, wher­withall somewhat surprised, he in most humble manner desired his Ma­jesty not to give credit to such people, since so detestable an intention ne­ver entred his breast, nor could it be for his advantage; for say he should have such an intention (which God forbid he should) how could he ef­fect it, since by so wicked a paricide, he was deservedly to fall into the hatred of all men? he profered to prove his innocency by his sword; he earnestly desired that the Friar might be put into safe custody, and if it so liked his Majesty, into the custody of Iohn Holland. This Iohn was bro­ther by the mother side to the King, and consequently void of suspition, [Page 5] had not his desire of marrying Elizabeth, daughter to the Duke, (which afterwards he did) made him partiall: but the King not minding this, granted the Dukes desire. The impression which at first this accusation made in him, was confirmed by the bold behaviour of the Earle of Buckingham (not yet Duke of Glocester) for entring at unawares into the Kings Chamber, he swore by all the Gods to kill whosoever it was that durst say his brother was a traytor (not excepting the King himselfe) an action by how much the more rash, so much the more deserving a con­digne punishment, if the times had been such as would have permitted it; or had the Scepter been upheld by a more puissant arme, then was that of Richard. But the Frier the preceding night to the day which was ap­pointed for judgement, was by Iohn Holland, (to whom he was given in custody) and another companion of his, hanged up by the necke and privie members: And to the end that hee might die the more speedily, they placed a great stone in the center of the Arch, which his body in that posture made; in which manner being the next day found, without further enquiry his body was taken from the prison, and like the carcasse of a traytor, drag'd up and downe the streets of London.

This action did no wayes advantage the Duke in the opinion of such as did not hate him, whilst to those who had conspired his ruine, it afforded weighty arguments whereby to infuse into the King unremoveable suspi­tions, by the which being for two whole yeares tormented, Trisillian un­dertooke to free him thereof, by finding some meanes to put him to death by Law. But this affaire (being made knowne to so many favourites as the King had, and hee himselfe not given to secresie) came to the Dukes eares, who conceiving that his quality was not sufficient for his safeguard, (his death being decreed) retired himselfe to Pomfret, a Castle of his owne; where fortifying himselfe, hee resolved to have no other Advo­cates then strength and weapons, in a cause wherein his estate, honour and life was concerned. The Princesse of Wales, the Kings mother, was then in a Countrey house of hers; where examining the danger her sonne was in, being (if not for his owne sake, for those that were about him) ge­nerally hated; she, though corpulent, hasted and made an agreement be­tween them. But mens mindes, like to the earth, abound more in bad then good seeds: for as soone as the bad hearbs are weeded out, others spring up in their place, as happened in this affaire.

It may not be amisse for us to give our opinion of the right or wrong of these severall parties. The King was young, and wholly possest by wic­ked people, who like to thirsty Leeches, endevoured to drowne them­selves in the fullest veines, they lived not save in the death of others; nor were they enriched but by other mens losse and confiscations. They thought belike, that great men were like Eagles feathers, which doe cor­rode those of other birds, that therefore it behoved them to rid their hands of the Duke. He on the contrary was not without his venome; his hatred increased the more, for that for his Nephewes fault, he seemed to be torne in peeces by the meaner sort of people, a provocation sufficient to make a man of his quality undergoe whatsoever excesse: which that he did, the death of his accuser may serve for an argument; for it was not likely that he should feare danger, being innocent: he was great of him­selfe, [Page 6] strengthened by the authoritie of his brethren, by his dependants and followers; not being to bee judged but by his Peeres. And though the Court might have a great part in them, yet not so great as was to sur­mount his share; hatred of favourites being in all men of more force, then the hopes of amending their owne conditions by so unworthy meanes.

On the other side, it may be that the Frier wrought upon by mightie promises, had slandered him, he not being likely to have pryed into so se­cret a businesse, whilst others knew nothing thereof; being himselfe nei­ther of the privacie, nor family of the Duke, and it may be not known by him: but if it were so, the Duke ought not to have ended the question by violence, nor ought his violence to have been authorised by impunity; what was this but to assure unto us the reality of his fault, and that hee was imboldned by the Kings minority, and secured by his owne great­nesse.

At this time did Charles the sixth reigne in France, son to that Charles, who for having hindred the progresse of the English Armes, deserved to be stiled Charles the wise: and who taught by the example of his proge­nitors, instructeth us, That crazie states are not sustained by hazards, but by good counsell: for rashnesse is seldome favoured by Fortune. He dy­ing, left store of treasure behinde him; and therewithall this Charles, who contrary to him, had likely by his hare-braindnesse, to have lost France. The inward and conformable maladies of these two kingdomes did seasonably abate the edge of their weapons, by short, but redoubled truce; the sympathizing conditions of the two Kings requiring it to bee so, Richard being but two yeares older then Charles, each of them alike prodigall, and unfit for government; the one and the other under the go­vernment of Tutors: Kings barely in title, their Uncles exercising that authority; nor was there any difference between them, save that Charles was beloved, Richard hated: and whereas the former failed through want of wit, the other erred onely through the corruption of counsell; Charles had exercised the maidenhood of his Armes in the behalfe of Lodovick Count of Flanders, against the Flemings, who did rebell against him: And proving therein prosperous, hee became so greedie of warre, as the truce with England being expired, hee coveted nothing more then the continuation of that hatred, his little experience not well advising him, and his yeares making him presume himselfe borne for that, which his predecessors never durst undertake. Hee begun the warre in Poictou, 1386. Saintunge and Limosin, under the conduct of the Duke of Burbone. He sent into Scotland to Robert the second, who then reigned, an aid of Lan­ces and Crosse-bow-men, by Iohn of Vienna his Admirall, to the end that the English being busied on the one side, might be the lesse able to resist the invasion which he intended to make on the other. For having given order for a great Army at Sleus, and for another in Bretanny, he intended himselfe in person to attempt the conquest of that Kingdome. Burbone tooke many Forts and other places in those Provinces: But the Admirall was but badly received in Scotland▪ he found not the King at Edinburgh, his usuall place of residence; for he cared not to be found there, as estee­ming the comming of those people burthensome. Hee very well knew King Charles his humour, and believed that for some whimzies of his [Page 7] owne, hee would put upon him the necessitie of warre, which Scotland useth not to undertake but upon good conditions, occasion and advanta­ges: But things were not as the King beleeved; for Embassadors having been sent to him the yeare before from France, to acquaint him with the truce made for one yeare with Richard, wherein hee was likewise com­prehended, some of the Councell had treated with them, that if the King of France were resolved to send over to them a thousand horse, five hun­dred Crosse-bow-men, and Armes for another thousand, they would trouble England: which being by them understood as a thing resolved upon, they were come without more a-doe, with the men and Armes re­quired: They brought no horses along with them, to avoid trouble, thinking to finde enough there; but Scotland being then, according to its own wont, not as now, furnished with what is necessary, and with much of superfluity, had not horses wherewithall to furnish them, they were forced to fit themselves with horses at excessive prices. The King being returned, the Admiral delivered his Embassage; the which being seconded by such as thought to better as well their private as the publicke condition, upon the hopes that England being set upon on both sides, would in likelihood be lost, King Robert could not resist the importunity of his people. So as his royall will being published within a few dayes, 30000 fighting men appeared under their Banners. With those, and his owne men, the Ad­mirall entred Northumberland, took there divers Townes, burnt and de­stroyed the Countrey; nor had he retired from thence, had hee not been inforced by those who were most experienced, having received adver­tisement that the King was marching towards them with a great Army. The English Army consisted of 68000 men; what Bow-men, what Lan­ces, with Pioners and other attendants, it made up 100000. and as many horse. The Admirall persisted in his opinion of giving battell: when be­ing brought to the top of a hill, under the which the enemy lay, and ha­ving seen their order, and their number, he changed his minde: But being resolved, come what come would, to doe some famous act, hee made this proposition; that since they must of necessity quit the field (which without much rashnesse could not be made good) they might doe the like as the enemy doubtlesse would doe; to wit, that as the enemy was like to finde Scotland without defence, so they passing by the other part of Eng­land (likely to want defenders) might by their ransacking of the Coun­trey, make amends for what of dammage Scotland was likely to receive. This advice being approved of, they came downe from the Hills, and en­tred Comberland, where finding no resistance, they ransacked all the parts thereof; they assayed Carlisle, but unfortunately: for it was defen­ded by many brave Gentlemen. This meane while Richard being en­tred Scotland, came to Edinburgh; he burnt almost the whole Towne, but not the Castle, saved by the fort, and its situation. From thence some of his troops passing further, they burnt and destroyed Townes, Houses and Monasteries, till they came to Sterling, méeting with none that op­posed them; the men of warre being gone (as you have heard) into Com­berland, and King Robert having retired himselfe to places of more safe­ty: so as the Cattell being driven into the woods, they reaped no profit for all the harme they did, which made them more insatiate in their rui­nating [Page 8] the Countrey; nay had not provision of victuall by shipping and cart beene brought from England, they could not have found food for one onely day in that Countrey: for being naturally barren, and of set purpose destroyed, there was no [...] so much as grasse for their horses to bee found. The King therefore being necessitated to returne, Lancaster pro­pounded, that taking necessary provision along with them, they might returne by the way of Comberland, as the Scots had done, and so bar­ring their returne, they must needs of themselves fall into their hands.

The proposition pleased the Councell, and the King himselfe, and was the onely one like to be effected; but when night came, the Earle of Ox­ford had accesse to the Kings [...]are, and whispered unto him, that the Dukes ends were to bring his Majesty to the last of dangers. For it was impossible for them to passe over those hils, winter being so farre advan­ced, without great prejudice: that the numerous army required greater store of provision then was to be carried on sumpter horses: that the ene­mie having ruinated and harased the Country, they were not likely to finde straw enough, much lesse other necessaries. If the speakers Genius much more predominant then was the Kings, was able without such likely arguments to prevaile with him, how much more did it now doe so, strengthned by these reasons, and former jealousies had of the Uncle: so as the next day, whilst (according to the resolution formerly taken) the army expected to have order for marching towards these parts, the King having in sharpe tearmes upbraided the Duke with disloyalty, for that hee durst advise him to the danger of either perishing by famine, or becom­ming a prey unto the enemy, said that he would returne into England the road way; whilst the Duke if he pleased, with such as would follow him, might goe into Comberland; for his part, hee, and such as loved him, would goe the other way. The Duke astonished at so unexpected an en­tertainment, excused himselfe in all humility, omitting nothing that might appease the King; nor had this sufficed, had hee not beene seconded by many Lords, who were witnesses to his conscience. This was the last sceane of these Tragicomicall distasts; worthy to be so stiled, to put a dif­ference betweene them and those Tragicall ones of Gloster: the former ending in words, the latter in effects maligne and mortall. He then retur­ned the same way hee came; having for his so great expence reaped no other fruit then the breaking of Charles his designes.

The Admirall according to his instructions, was to have wintered in those parts, that by renewing the warre in the Spring, he might facilitate the invasion which Charles was to make on the other side: but it was not in his power to effect it, both man and horse being brought to that passe as they had not whereon to live. Those who had most money could find nothing to buy: and those who would have sold their horses, or any thing else to have supplyed their wants, could finde no chapmen: to tarry all in one body in one place, was impossible; to divide themselves dangerous; the peoples hatted being like lightning, a fore-runner of tempests, there was not any who either could or would carry there. The Admirall un­derstood this very well; he intended to give the most necessitous leave to depart, and to promise the rest speedy supplyes of money: but those who had leave to bee gone, were not suffered to imbarque themselves; [Page 9] they would neither suffer them to tarry, nor to be gone. The Scots ex­clamed that 'twas they that had made the warre; that their countrey was ruin'd by reason of them; that they had done more mischiefe then had the English; that they had trodden downe the corne, cut downe trees, and as if they had beene in the enemies countrey, lived onely upon ra­pine; for which they required satisfaction: excuses or were not found, or not admitted of. The Admirall was at last constrained by publique proclamation to ingage himselfe to give satisfaction to all such as preten­ded to have received injury by his men. The debt being agreed upon, he imbarqued his men, tarrying himselfe in Scotland, till such time as he received moneyes, wherewith he satisfied the creditors, and so departed unsatisfied himselfe. This was Charles his first adventure, wherein meet­ing with a rub, it made him the second time stumble against a yet harder stone. The Admirall being returned, confirm'd in him the resolution of his imaginary conquest; assuring him that the whole people of England exceeded not 60000. Archers, and 7. or 8000. Launces; a slender de­fence in comparison of what forces were for her ruine mustered in France. But it is usuall in nature for the most excellent faculties to be more tender then are the rest; strong and acute sights suffer more by looking on the Sunne, then those which are obtuce and weake: therefore if the Admi­rall, a judicious Commander, failed in his judgement, being dazled by the splendor of so many ships, engines, and Princes as were gathered to­gether at Sluce, he ought to be pardoned. Some are notwithstanding of opinion that France would never have dreamed upon any enterprise on England, had it not beene by his perswasion; and that the Duke of Bur­gundy (by the death of his wives father, now Count of Flanders) desi­ring the suppression of the English, who had fomented the rebellion in those provinces, made him give this advice, which was praised of all save the Duke of Berry, though he durst not make publique opposition, seeing Charles was inclined thereunto. Others write that the Duke of Burgundies intentions were not to hazard the King in passing the Seas; the landing being difficult, and more difficult to keepe himselfe there when he should be landed; the people considerable by reason of their number, and va­lour; the comparing of these with those who had formerly conquered them equivocall: that at the present they were governed by one onely King, whose hatred was not to be put in ballance with the hatred they bore to strangers: that they were passionately lovers of liberty, abhorring the French nation; and a countrey in which (grasse excepted, which as in a perpetuall Aprill is alwayes there greene) they would finde nothing; not occasioned by barrennesse, but providence: and that there being nei­ther Castle, nor other place wherein to settle, it was to be wonne by inch­meale, upon the uncertainty of fortune, and battle; any one of the which being lost, (succour being far off, subject to delayes, tempests; and winds) the victory would no longer be the thing in question, but the safety, life and liberty of the King, Princes, and people; that battels had little lesse then lost France; the which was by Charles the wi [...]e returned to its for­mer lustre, not by fighting, but by temporizing; moreover, that there they had neither partakers, nor intelligence; without the which those who in preceding times did, would not have attempted it: that his true de­signe [Page 10] was to hinder Lancasters journey into Spaine, so to secure that State to Iohn King of Castile, a designe in consideration of so immense an ex­pence, more then unworthy the refined judgement of that Duke. But whatsoever the matter was, it is hard to reconcile Writers, tedious to dispute the businesse: therefore what really appeares, agreed upon by all sides, shall be the current of our discourse.

All these preparations were not of force enough to divert the Duke of Lancaster from his intended journey; nor the apprehension thereof suffi­cient to make England detaine him; which, on the contrary side, furnisht him with shipping, men and pay for six moneths, nor was Richard lesse liberall to him in favours; the desire of having him gone, was of more force with him, then the feare of whatsoever forraigne forces. He would have him honoured like a King: he gave him a Crowne royall: his wife Constance being by the Queen presented with the like, both of them pas­sing rich.

This mean while the French Fleet lay in the havens of Flanders, that of Sluce not being able to containe 1267 bottomes: for upon this num­ber all Writers doe neere upon agree: as many ships as sailed upon the sea from the Straits of Guibraltar to Prucia, were detained for this ser­vice, there were numbred of Knights and Gentlemen 20000. as many Crosse-bow-men of Genowa; the which together with foot and adven­turers, made up the number of 100000. the Mariners, servants and other people, made up another number apart. Whosoever had not hired some vessell of his owne proper cost, be he of what condition he please, hee was allowed no more attendance but one horse and one servant: no un­usefull mouthes were allowed of; there was no Prince uninvited, nor who invited did not contribute. The King of Spaine ships, the Duke of Saxo­nie and Bavaria's Souldiers. The Count of Savoy went thither in per­son, accompanied by many warriers: the strife in expences between Prin­ces and great Lords, was very great: To what was necessary they added superfluity: the Masts and Yards gay with streamers, glistered with gold & azure; incredible store of victuals: there was nothing unprovided for: the price of things were eighteen times doubled: all things were growne to an excessive price; the provisions of the Navie were not touched: what was there daily consumed, was inestimable; warriers flocked thither not unlike a torrent, spending prodigally the certainty which they had, upon the hopes of uncertaine gaine. The court of it selfe was sufficient to cause a dearth. The King was accompanied by the Duke of Lorreigne and of Bar: by the Counts of Savoy, Genowa, Saint Paul, Armignae[?], Lon­gaville, Eu: by the Dolphin of Auvergne, by the Lord Cussi, and by all the Barons and Nobility of France. Constable Clisson did on the other side in Bittanny rig forth a Navie of 72 ships, and that nothing might bee wanting to the securitie and Majestie of so great a King, the woods of that and the neighbouring Provinces, were impoverished, for the building of a Citie, framed all of boords and rafters; it was compassed about, as it were with a wall, Bulwarkes, Loop-holes, Casements, and other things then in use in fortification, which might bee joyned together or taken in peeces, as occasion should serve. The circumference thereof was 3000 paces, the height twenty, and at the distance of twenty paces was placed [Page 11] a turret of thirty paces high, capable of ten defendants, within this circuit in answerable distances were placed lodgings for the King, Princes, and Officers, Piazzaes, Market-places, space for Pavillions; nothing was wan­ting which was requisite in a strong, commodious, and long-since built City: but all this Fabricke, together with five hundred men, being im­barqued for Sluce, a chance winde arose, which disperst the Fleet; and three vessels loaden with this Fabricke, were together with their Masters and Architectors, driven upon the sands in the mouth of the Thames; the Admirall with twenty other gaining Sluce with much adoe. King Richard afterwards caused this fabricke be reared up in a spatious place. At the same time came the Duke of Berry to Sluce, much expected many weekes before. Hee by divers pretences had of purpose prolonged his comming, though he had beene daily solicited: hee finding their mindes perplexed by reason of this losse, which they tooke as an ill Omen, made use thereof, declaring himselfe averse to this expedition; that in his opi­nion the King should not doe well to hazard his person, liberty, and estate to the danger of the Seas at such a season as this, (it was now November) much lesse to the danger of war, in a country where he could meet with no­thing but manifest danger: that the relation of the English forces to consist of but 60000. Archers, and 8000. Pikemen, was false; since it was manifest that besides such as guarded the havens, and those who Lancaster had car­ried along with him, Richard had an army of 100000. Archers, and 10000. horse. This being exaggerated in full Councell, were it, or for that hee really was of that opinion, or out of a desire to crosse the Duke of Bur­gondy, the chiefe inciter to this enterprise; or that they were both of one minde (as some beleeved) to save their reputations, the voyage was put off to another time; wherewith the Nobility were scandalized, but much more the common people, from whom so vast a summe of money had beene raised for nothing. The present charge was cast up to have surpas­sed the ransome of King Iohn, which was very great.

Disorders this meane while were not wanting in England, subject to be in ill condition, since the King and people did not agree. This divi­sion had strewed strange feares in the mindes of many; Richard not cea­sing to governe himselfe according to the will of such as govern'd him. All things were without order, and done without acquainting his Uncles therewithall. All things passed under the hand of the Earle of Suffolke, by the direction of the Earle of Oxford. A Parliament was called at Mi­chaelmas. Much people were raised out of every Shire, and lodged twenty miles round about London, to the end that they might bee ready upon all occasions. So as so great a number being assembled together, and not paid, they must of necessity live by force and rapine; a disorder which if at other times it bee of great consequence, was certainly of no small importance now. For the key of military discipline (which is rea­dy pay) if it be not well handled is soone broken: and if men be defrau­ded, and payments be not made, there is none who doe obey, none who doe command. For remedy to this inconvenience, order was given that the Souldiers should retire themselves to their owne homes, with dire­ctions to be ready to returne when commanded; whilst the enemy who lay at Sluce, with hourely expectation to transport themselves, needed [Page 12] with a faire winde but one nights sayle to effect their desires. But it befell the French as it doth gamesters, they lost for lacke of knowing when to set their rest.

One of the first things the Parliament did, was the making the Earle of Oxford Duke of Ireland, which caused whispering and dislike in all men. Not many monthes before in the late Parliament of this same yeare, hee was created Marquesse of Dublin, and Michael Poole Earle of Suffolke; the Kings Uncles Dukes; the Earle of Cambridge, of Yorke; the Earle of Buckingham, of Gloster; and Roger Mortimer Earle of March (in case the King should die without issue) was declared heyre to the Crowne. An observation which I chose to place here, as requisite to the pretences of the house of Yorke, the which in their due time will bee tryed by the sword, none having at any time (to the best of my knowledge) taken pos­session of a controverted Crowne, by the authority of Lawes, or decree of Judges.

Moneyes being afterwards required for the present occasions, they were denyed with an Han [...]bal ad portas; they pretended no necessity thereof: that the Earle of Suffolkes purse was alone sufficient to supply all wants: they accused him of many misdemeanours: they required that his accounts might be seene: the upper house sided with this request; chiefly the Duke of Gloster. The King who imagined to finde none who would prescribe Lawes to him now, that Lancaster was gone, found he had judged amisse; but being resolved not to suffer his servants bee rent from betweene his armes, he determined (if it be true which is said) to put his Uncle to death; that by freeing himselfe from so great an ob­stacle, he might infuse reverence and respect into others. Richard would be feared, beleeving it to be the onely way to obedience: but he was not aware that though Princes ought to cloath themselves with the habit of reverence and respect, the same habiliament is woven with the thread of affection; the other of feare, being made of threads of hatred, and com­posed of brittle and direfull materialls. A supper was given order for in London, to which Gloster, together with those who had openly declared themselves enemies to Suffolke, were invited; that by the service of na­pery and wine they might bee slaine; Nicholas Bambre was chiefly im­ployed in this affaire, who the preceding yeare was Lord Maior of Lon­don; but Richard Stone then Lord Maior, infinitely abhorring so great a wickednesse, hindred the effecting of it. So as the Duke being acquainted with it, and by him the rest, they contented themselves with their owne private suppers, finding them more savoury, then the riotous other. The discovery of this plot was the Colliquintida which distasted the palats of the Uncle and Nephew, and which increased in the common people the hatred of the King, and love of the Duke; affections which though they hurt the former, as concurring causes of not permitting him to live, they did not helpe the other as not being able to fence him from a miserable death.

The King retired himselfe to Eltham, that he might not bee present at the aversenesse of the Parliaments proceedings: where being advertised that the members of Parliament were resolved not to treat of any other businesse, unlesse the great Seale were taken from the Earle of Suffolke, [Page 13] he commanded them to send unto him fortie of the ablest members of their house, that he might treat with them, and resolve upon what was most convenient. But to send so great a number being not thought fit, they resolved to send unto him the Duke of Gloster, & Thomas Arundel, Bishop of Ely, with the which he seemed to be content. The Articles of their commission were in chiefe two; the first, that the King having dis­bursed great sums of money, they humbly beseeched him to suffer them to take the accounts. The second, that the presence of his Majesty being requisite for the treating and conclusion of businesse, hee would be plea­sed to remember, that by an ancient law it was permitted to the Parlia­ment men to returne home to their owne houses at any time when the King (not hindred by sicknesse) should absent himselfe for forty dayes to­gether from the place of Parliament.

The Kings answer shewed how much he was displeased at such propo­sitions, for without further advice he replied; that he apparantly saw the ends of the people, and commons, to tend to rebellion, that he thought not to doe amisse, if he should call in the King of France to his aide, since it would redound lesse to his dishonour, to submit himselfe to a King, then to his owne subjects. The two Commissioners indeavoured as much as in them lay, to shew unto his Majesty, that the house of Parliament had no such intention, and that if by mis-information hee would needs beleeve the contrary, that which he had said would neither prove honorable, nor advantagious for him: wishing him to consider that such a resolution was not likely to work such effects, as his passion promised unto him: the peo­ple of England being strong enough to defend themselves, and a peo­ple which did so much abhorre the French, as that they would never en­dure to be governed by them; whilst on the contrary side, he the King of England, ought to pretend to rule the French: that the evils which from them were to ensue, were likely to fall onely upon himselfe, to his pre­sent ruine, and perpetuall infamy in after ages. Richard had now the use of his naturall judgement, free from wicked counsellers; so as weighing their reasons, he was perswaded to returne to London. Suffolkes misde­meanors was the first thing which was handled; they deputed the Duke of Glocester, and Earle of Arundell his Committees, the judgement which ensued, (as some will have it) was, degrading, confiscation and death, moderated with this caution; If it should so please the King. And according to some others, the losse of his office, a fine of 20000 markes, and the losse of his pension of three thousand a yeare, which was paid him out of the Exchequer. Upon this judgement Richard againe absen­ted himselfe, not able patiently to endure that he abhorred; he condoled with Suffolke, that his faults had brought such infamy upon him, as tooke from him all meanes of defending him. The sentence notwithstanding was not executed, a reservation being therein had to the Kings pleasure; leaving him at liberty, they contented themselves with such sufficient se­curity as he gave them. Thirteen men were afterwards chosen, who under the King, should take upon them the government of the Kingdome: of the which number were the two Uncles of Yorke and Gloster, and the Earle of Arundell. An Oligarchy at all times dangerous in a Monarchicall go­vernment: and which first instituted in the reigne of Richard, was after­wards [Page 14] (as harmfull) repealed. But examples are not sufficient to ground Lawes upon, when the injustice of the Prince is such, as it receiveth Lawes from the subject: when their injustice springs from their weak­nesse, and when their weaknesse proves the nerves of strength and veines of justice to the people; whether being arrived, commanding, they are blind in doing of offence, whilst being commanded, they were Argus­eyd in receiving offences: every man cries out, Liberty; a pleasing thing, and according to nature: but to bring others into servitude, is a vice in na­ture, & more in reason. The tyranny of the Decemviri in Rome was more insupportable then that of Tarquin; and the short government of these thirteen more inexorable then all Richards reigne: so as if wee consider things aright, we shall finde, that evils have almost alwayes had just be­ginnings, but contrary proceedings and ends; hatred envie and revenge unmasking those vices which covered by the deceitfull cloake of Com­mon-good, were beleeved to be vertues. The last businesse, and the one­ly one which gave satisfaction to the King, was the assigning over to the Duke of Ireland, the thirty thousand markes paid in by the Admirall Clisson, for the ransome of Iohn of Brettony, Count of Pointivers his sonne-in-law. This Iohn, together with his brother Guy, was taken priso­ner by Iohn Shandois in the battell of Antroy, the yeare 1364. The French seconding Charles of Bloys, father to the two young brethren (who died in that battell) and the English Iohn Montford, both of them pretenders to the Dukedome of Bretanny: they gave unto him this money in colour that he should goe into Ireland, to take possession of such lands as the King had there given him; but in effect to separate him from him: bar­ring him of all delay, they prefixt unto him Easter for his departure from England. This was the price at which they thought to have purchased his absence; but neither did he see Ireland, nor was the King likely to lose his company, if Fortune did not deprive him of it. This Parliament ended, with the giving of one Subsidy, which was alotted to Richard, Earle of Arundell, to be spent at sea; where having done considerable actions, accompanied with the Earle of Nottingham, he gave to the Duke and others further occasion of hatred; whereby to suppresse those ver­tues which in well-governed Common-wealths use to be rewarded, so to incite others to the service of their Countrey, by the bait of emulation and honour: a dismall signe of corruption, the bringer in of vice, and fore­runner of ruine. The Parliament was no sooner ended, but the King re­turned 1387. to London, retooke the Earle of Suffolke to his former favour; who, as one condemned, ought not to have been permitted to have seene the King, nor have come where he was, he anuld all that was decreed a­gainst him; conniving onely at this, that the office of Chancellor should remaine in the Bishop of Ely, upon whom it was conferred. And to the end that matters of scandall might never be wanting to the favorites; and that their insolencies might witnesse to the world, the supreame power they had over him, he suffered the Duke of Ireland to do one act of scan­dall, the which distasted all men.

The Duke amongst the chiefest of his honours, married Phillep, the daughter of Ingram Guisnes, Lord of Consi, and Isabel daughter of Ed­ward the third, cosen to the King, a great and noble Lady by her owne [Page 15] deserts, as well as birth, not moved thereunto by any inciting cause, but his owne pleasure, he resolved to repudiate her, that hee might marry one Ancerona, a Bohemian, a Carpenters daughter, who came into England in the Queens service. It is to be beleeved, that he had not taken her, had not Richard adhered to him; and the dispensation of Vrban the sixth, had not been obtained without the Regall countenance (there being no lawfull cause for the putting her away) although it was the easilier gotten, for that the Dutches Phillep, being a Frenchwoman, adhered to the schisme of Clement of Avignion. So that it is no wonder if the King were not gene­rally beloved of his people, since that to second the Dukes unlawfull hu­mours, hee put no valuation upon himselfe. The Duke of Gloster was herewithall soundly netled; neither did he cloake his anger, though to declare himselfe therein, was not agreeable to the rules of wisedome: for an open enemy puts himselfe to too much disadvantage. Easter the pre­fixed time for the journey into Ireland, was come and gone, the world was to be satisfied. He delayed the time under the colour of making prepara­tions; but not able to put it off any longer, he departed, and together with him the King, who went (as hee gave out) to accompany him to the Sea side. Being come to Bristow, they did not put to Sea, but leaving it on the left hand, passed forward into Wales, as if the people had forgotten the journey to Ireland. Trickes and devices the more scandalous and un­seasonable, for that they argued some strange alteration. The authoritie of the governours troubled his quiet, and the advantage that they had got upon Regall authority, threatned his ruine, they coveted to secure them­selves from them: for neither did the Duke intend to goe into Ireland, nor the King to part with him, nor the Archbishop of York to stand the shock of universall hatred, nor the Earle of Suffolk to return to the censure of the Parliament, nor Trisillian nor Bambre to give an account of their past acti­ons. Whereupon finding themselves in great danger, they agreed that it was impossible for them to subsist, without ridding them out of the way, who were onely able to undoe them. A wicked resolution, but now ne­cessary, since they were come to that passe, as nothing but extreams could worke their safety. The difficulty of the businesse lay in the making a­way of Gloster, Arundell, Warwicke, Nottingham and Darby, eldest sonne to the Duke of Lancaster, who hitherto hath not been named, though the first subject of our Story. They had likewise proscribed many others: with whom they might not have done amisse to have temporized; but all delayes were to them dangerous: and treacheries framed former­ly against Gloster, made it impossible for them to compasse their ends by the same meanes. The law was thought the safest way, and the more mas­ked the safer. Many there were who had followed the King, not so much out of respect, and to claw the favourite, as for that the aire of London, under the blast of the thirteene, not tempered by the propitious breath of Regality, was thought pestilentiall: They all seemed to make up but one body; yet they were diversly inclined, Yorke, Ireland, Suffolke, Trisillian and Bambre, were all ruled by like interest, the rest not so: The former being in a desperate case in their owne respects, the rest not so; unlesse in respect of them. Trisillian framed ten Articles, whereof the first nine contained onely two queres: The first, whether the King being inforced [Page 16] to give his assent to the Acts of the last Parliament, to the prejudice of his Prerogative, might not lawfully revoke them. The second, that if hee might doe it, what punishment did they deserve who had forced his as­sent? The tenth was, whether or no the judgement given against Suffolk, was erroneous, and consequently revocable.

To this purpose the chiefe Judges of England were summoned to the Castle of Nottingham, that they might give their opinions in these points, and having given them, subscribe them. Their answers were according as were desired, but they did not all incline to subscribe them; by threats and examples they were drawne unto it. Robert Belenap, chiefe Justice of the Common Pleas, threatned by the Duke and Suffolke, was the first that underwrit them; which when he had done, he said, now I lacke no­thing but a rope; if I should not have obeyed you, I know I could not have escaped your hands; now that I have obeyed, I shall not scape, be­ing punished by the Barons of the Land: nor can I complaine if they so doe. The answers of the learned in the Law were, that the King might revoke all as done against his will: that those who were the cause of it, deserved death as traytors: and that the judgement given against Suffolk was erroneous, and consequently revocable. This being done, they thought the worst was past: the goods of the condemned were already shared; nor remained there any thing save the owners death, to the taking of possession, the which was diligently indeavoured: besides the Judges of the Kingdome, the Sheriffes of every Shire were summoned thither, for two purposes: the one to know how many men might be found who would fight against the Barons: the other, that if another Parliament should be called, the Knights and Burgesses might be chosen by the kings recommendation. To the first they answered, that the people stood so well affected to the Barons, that they would not take armes against them: to the second, that to chuse the Burgesses contrary to the usuall forme of Law, and liberty of the Kingdome, was not onely impossible but dange­rous. The few that with an implicite obedience soothed their designes, were commanded to be ready at need. The Duke of Gloster was advi­sed of all these affaires; and fearing lest greater inconveniences might en­sue, he went unto the Bishop of London, to whom he swore, that he nere had other designe, then the service and honour of the King and King­dome: that his onely errour was, that he had hated, and still did hate the Duke of Ireland, so singularly beloved of the King; but that hee was so farre from repenting himselfe of it, that he desired the King and all the world might know, that his hatred should never cease till crown'd with a just revenge: that he was sory that no revenge was to be found answe­rable to his offence, to wit the divorce of a Lady, cosen to the King, and neece to him: he desired the Bishop to go to Court, to acquaint the king with his good intentions: to intreat his better opinion of him, and to per­swade him to lesse dangerous designes. The Bishop went, did what was desired, and was graciously heard, and had received as gracious an an­swer, had not the Earle of Suffolke, who apprehended all reconciliation, mard the matter. These men were like to those, who falling down head­long, lay hold upon some craggy stone, which if pull'd out, falls downe with them. They kept themselves close to the King, indangering his [Page 17] safety to save themselves. The Earle shewed unto Richard, how that the Dukes minde was full of deceit, dangerous ambition, seditious practices, charging him with whatsoever he might doe, to the prejudice of his Ma­jesty, as if he had already done it, in such sort, as the Bishop not able any longer to endure so much provoking petulancy, commanded him to hold his peace: he, not accustomed to such commands, asked him why? be­cause (replied the Bishop) you being a condemned man, and one who lives onely by the Kings meere grace, should not meddle in these affaires. These words did strangely offend the King; who after many and terrible threats, went his way, commanding him to goe unto his place of resi­dence, and not to stirre from thence without his expresse permission. The which hee forthwith did: for afterward having made relation to the Duke of what had past, he retired himselfe to his owne Church. Arun­del, Warwicke and Darby, were those who were most exposed to danger: To these Gloster joyned himselfe, shewing that it was not now time to temporize: that force was the onely meanes whereby to worke their safe­tie with the King, and to keep the plotters of mischiefe within their bounds; since that an open warre would be more advantagious to them, then a deceitfull peace, subject to deceit, danger and suspition. These rea­sons being approved, they all withdrew themselves to their own homes, using all the meanes they could to raise great troops of armed men: the King advertised of their preparations, thought the best course hee could take, would be to prevent them, and take from them the meanes uniting themselves. Whereupon the Earle of Arundell being farthest distant from the rest, and more exposed to danger, hee commanded the Earle of Northumberland to surprize him; who taking along with him store of company, came to Rigate in Surrey, where finding him rather in a con­dition of offending then being offended, he thought he should doe better to returne without doing of any thing, then by making a rash attempt, discover the reasons of his comming. But the King did not for all this, quit his designe: hee gave the like order to divers others; commanning, that if hee could not be had alive, hee should be brought dead. The Earle was ignorant of these plots, but being advertised of them by Gloster, (who had better spies in Court) hee travelled with all his followers, all night long, and in the morning came weary to Aringey, where hee found the Duke and Warwick, with a great number of Souldier, a rumor was at the same time spread, that the King under pretence of going to Canterbury to performe a vow, would passe over into Fraoce, to surrender unto that King, Callis, the castle of Guines, & whasoever else was in that country possessed by the Crown of England; which, whether or no it were invented to in­crease the peoples hatred, is more then I can say, but he made no such jour­ney; not to free them of suspition, but for the fear he had of their combi­nation. For their forces were not to bee despised, their ends being (as they gave forth) to reduce him to a better and more frugall government: so as apprehending danger, he demanded counsell, not without some signes of feare. Some were of opinion, that he should do well to temporize, enter­taining them with hopes of satisfaction. Others thought that this knot was too fast tyed, & not to be undone but by the sword. The Archbishop of Yorke was the author of this opinion; but it met with many oppositi­ons. [Page 18] The King could reap nothing thereby but losse; the gates were ope­ned to a civill warre: and if amongst bloud and dead carcasses, the key should perchance be lost, hee was not like to meet with them in time, to shut the gate at his pleasure: that if he should overcome, it would bee a mournfull victory; both friends and enemies being the chiefe of the Kingdome, and equally his subjects. That if hee should be beaten, hee had no place to retire unto; his ruine was inevitable, his kingdome, life and liberty being at the stake: Ralph Basset, a Gentleman of quality, said freely, that he would not have his head broken for the Duke of Irelands sake. But the Earle of Northumberland propounded the giving them a hearing, as the best rosolution in this case could be taken. This advice pleased the most of them: The Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bi­shop of Ely, Chancellour, were sent to perswade them to present them­selves the next Sunday in Westminster, where they might themselves lay open their grievances before the King; assuring them that they should finde his Majesty ready to give them a gracious hearing. But they found the adverse party hard to resolve; being by past examples reduced to small beliefe, and lesse trust: for where there is neither shame of infa­my, nor feare of punishment, breach of promise, craft and treachery, are taken to bee tearmes of wisedome, and things handsomely carried: the which being well knowne unto the Chancellor, who dealt uprightly in this businesse, he desired them not to sticke at this, since the good and peace of the Common-wealth depended upon this resolution, passing his word unto them, that if there were any thing of fraud intended, he would give them timely advertisement. Upon this security they promised a meeting: but as their suspitions were not vain, so did the Chancellor faith­fully keep promise with them: for understanding that 1000 men were laid in ambush to cease upon them at unawares, he advertised them thereof, to the end that either they might not come, or if they came, come so accom­panied, as they need not fear danger. Sunday being come, the King won­dred that they came not, and understanding the reason, swore he was no wayes conscious of it; and commanded the Sheriffes to goe to the place of ambush, and to cut in peeces as many as they should there meet: But the ambushers having retired themselves upon the advertisement of Tho­mas Trivet and Nicholas Bambre their leaders, that care was needlesse. 'Tis hard to say, whether the King had any hand therein or no, unlesse they ground their opinions on this, that a Prince who onely intends his owne desires, values no plighted faith, neither religious nor civill, so as the breach thereof may tend to his own interest; and to him his ends be­ing considered, the miscarrying of these Lords, had been much availe­able; and the not making inquiry after the authors of it, must needs bee subject to a bad construction. Notwithstanding al this, the Chancellor for­bare not to doe all good offices: he mitigated the resentment of this fresh wound, with reiterated lenitives, and procuring them to boot with the Kings word, a safe conduct in writing, he secured them a second time, and drew them to Westminster, whither they came well accompanied, re­lying much upon the fidelitie of the people; a securitie upon such occasi­ons, efficatious, though wavering. The King understanding their arrivall, came thither in his Robes, with his Scepter in hand, and Crowne upon [Page 19] his head, invironed by Prelates and Lords. His favourites and confidents, upon good advice, staid at home. Gloster as soone as he was come into the Hall, kneeled downe before him, together with his associates. The Bishop, whose office it was, as being Chancellor, to declare unto them the Kings intentions, did in a grave manner say; That the King their Sove­raigne Lord, being informed of their assemblies made at Haringie, for­bare to use the way of violence (which easily he might have done) to re­duce them to their obedience; that hee had put a greater valuation upon the bloud of his subjects, and their own particular safeties, then upon the injuries done unto himself: That he was rather pleased to make use of his owne grace and favour (the naturall Panacea of good Princes) then to ap­ply violent remedies to so grievous a malady: That his resolution was not onely to pardon past offences, but patiently to listen unto their grie­vances, and to remedy them if need should require. They tendring all humble thankfullnesse, answered: That their assemblies had been made, not with intention of taking Armes against his Majesty, their Soveraigne Lord, but driven thereunto out of the necessity of his Majesties good, and the weale publicke: That they had taken this resolution to with­stand the treacheries plotted against them and the State, by certaine tray­tors, who under pretence of serving his Majesty, intended the subversion of King and Kingdome. Passing by the rest, they instanced in the Duke of Ireland, Archbishop of Yorke, Earle of Suffolk, Trifillian and Bambre. They offered to make good their assertions by the sword, throwing downe their gloves as gages, a thing then in use; and which, in case of difficultie, is as yet sometimes used in England. The King having pati­ently given them hearing, answered: That he was not well pleased, that from the appeasing of one quarrell, many others should arise; hee willed them to be present at the Parliament, which was to commence the next day after the purification of our Lady, where all differences should accor­ding to the Lawes, be ended. The which being said, he immediatly ad­ded these words: And you my Lords, what reason did permit you to take up Armes against me in this my Land? thought you thereby to frighten me? could not I have raised greater forces to your destruction? I would have you all to know, that upon this account, I no more value you, then the least Scullion in my Kitchin. These last words being said, not allowing time for a reply, he tooke the Duke by the arme, and raised him from the ground; and returning to his Palace, welcomed them all with such appearing signes of friendship, as in token of his good will, hee called for wine, and did in a familiar friendly manner drinke with them. That which was agreed upon in this businesse, was; That the differences should be decided by Parliamentory justice: That the King should take the parties interessed, into his protection: That the one side should not wrong the other: That in the intrim neither side should raise forces: and, to the end, that no marke of infamy might remaine upon the fore-named Lords, Richard caused a proclamation to be made, that they being accu­sed of treason by some of his Councellors (namely by Ireland and the rest) for any diligent enquiry that could bee made, there was found no treason in them, nor reasons to beleeve it. Hereupon returning to their owne homes (the Kings mutability, and the malice of their adversaries [Page 20] considered) they resolved not to dis-band the forces which they had. A deliberation in respect of what ensued, ascribed to too much wisedome: for hardly had they taken their leaves, when the Duke of Ireland went into Wales; where, under the command of Thomas Mullinax, a brave Souldier, and one much followed in those parts, hee assembled together five thousand fighting men, hoping that when these should bee joyned to those who were at London, he might bee strong enough to make his par­ty good; and thus he marched towards London. On the other side, Glo­ster, Darby, Arundell, Warwicke and Nottingham divided themselves, that they might hinder his passage. 'Twas Darbies fortune to meet with him. The Duke came puffed up with confidence, with Standards Royall, the King being on his side, and the chiefe Citie, if not out of selfe-inclinati­on, by the incedencie of his partie, he expected not to be encountred. He perswaded himselfe that others were as full of feare as he of hope. Be­ing come to Burford, a towne in Oxford-shire, hee himselfe was the first that descried the enemy, which stood in battel-aray to hinder his passage. It fared with him as with those which growne fierce upon supposed ad­vantage, turne cowards; if found equall in force, they bee unequall in va­lour. His former confidence ceased, cowardise and feare springing up in the place thereof. Mullinax could by no meanes infuse courage into him; 'twas bootlesse to make it appeare unto him, that the enemies forces were inferior to his, that the Earle of Darby was onely there, a youth, and till then of no reputation in warre. Mountaines, though covered with iron, would not have secured him; imagining himselfe to bee (as in­deed he was) the onely marke whereat those bowes aimed, the onely quintan those lances addressed themselves against, and that the safety of his men consisted in his flight, since 'twas hee, not they, that was desired. Mullinax for all this, could not forbeare to give battell. But hardly had the first blow been given, when the Duke mounted upon a very fleet horse, ran away: the river withstood his flight; hee found the first bridge cut in two, the other well guarded; despaire overcame feare, hee took the water, where both he and his horse being born down, he quit his Saddle, swimming not without danger to the other shore. Before hee tooke the river, he had throwne away his Cuirace, Helmet, Guantlets and Sword, in such a case offensive and troublesome weapons; he marched the lighter without them. He came to Scotland; from thence to Holland, where not thinking himselfe safe (for that Albertus, Duke of Bavaria, the Lord of that Country, was a friend to the Kings Uncles) he went to France, and from thence to Lorain, where he shortly after died. This mean while, ma­ny of his Souldiers had abandoned their Arms, not out of cowardise, but meere anger: And Mullinax having done all that could be expected from a wise and valiant Captaine, perceiving that the Duke was fled, and that part of his men were escaped away, part surrendred themselves; began to thinke upon his owne safety: hee betooke himselfe to swimming; but Thomas Mortimer threatning to shoot him if he would not render himself, he yeelded upon condition his life might bee safe; which not obtained, permit me yet (said he) to dye like a man in single combat with thy selfe, or some of those that are about thee. But as he endeavoured to lay hand upon the shore, Mortimer slew him. A man who deserved to have lived [Page 21] longer, or else to have died for some other cause then the taking up of Armes by the Kings commission. No severity was used to the rest. The Gentlemen with their weapons passed under D [...]rbies colours, the rest un­armed were suffered to returne: no enquiry was made after the Duke, his Armes and horse arguing his being drowned: his carriages fell into the victors hands: amongst other things, there were found letters, wherein he was by the King solicited to make what haste he could, proffering to live and die with him. But this dayes worke, through his owne fault, put a period to all his favours: he chose rather to live hatefull to himselfe, and abhorred by others, then to embrace the honourable hazard of victory or death. While matters fell out thus luckily in these parts, fortune would compleatly favour the Barons desires, by bringing to their hands a post from France, he brought with him a safe conduct for Richard, & as many as would accompany him, to Bullen, where King Charles was to be, to con­clude the bargaine touching the buying of Callis, and other strengths in those parts for a certaine summe of money. Richard being moreover, to doe him homage for Guascony, the onely province which remained in his hands of all those in France which either by inheritance or conquest belonged to the Crowne of England: Essentiall points to justifie their proceedings, and condemne the Kings. They notwithstanding concea­led this businesse for the present, and marched towards London with fourtie thousand men, where the King intended to keepe his Christmas. As soone as the Duke of Irelands defeat was divulged, the first who fled, were the Archbishop of Yorke and Trisillian: Suffolke went his way dis­guised in beard and habit; nor was any newes heard of him till hee came into France. The King retired himselfe to the Tower, as the place least exposed to sudden dangers. Gloster and his companions came to London on Saint Stephens day; he lodged all his men in the suburbs: many were flocked thither, not so much drawne by affection, as out of the hopes of sacking so rich a Citie. The chiefe Magistrate who feared this, knew not to which side to betake himselfe: if hee should receive the Barons, the King would bee offended; if not, the Barons. Small resistance was to be made, the walles without defence, and the meaner sort of peo­ple ready to throw themselves into the richest Merchants houses. The present danger prevailed, the Barons were invited into the Citie, and to their people without, was provision of bread, wine, cheese and beer sent; an opportune remedy: for wanting nothing, and being received as friends, they could not frame unto themselves an occasion of tumult. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Bishop of Ely, and others, who as being neu­ters, endeavoured peace, counselled the King to give them hearing, to the which he was no wayes inclined; his hopes perswading him, that the multitude of people would of themselves grow weary, and so shortly dis­solve, and that the Barons being abandoned by their followers, would without further trouble fall into his hands: the which being by him pub­lickly said, and understood by them, they swore they would never depart till they had spoken with him, armed as they were; and this did they more really performe, then did he his threats, which with feare-infusing forces are of no validity. They did as it were beleager him in the tower: for the Thames being well guarded, and they themselves making good the [Page 22] Citie, he had no possible meanes of making an escape, whereby percei­ving the vanity of his owne opinion, he yeelded to the advice of others, necessity being the chiefe motive.

But it was impossible to bring them together; for neither would hee come out of the Tower, nor they enter, for fear of the like treacheries, as in a lesse proper place, they had not long before had experience of: at last feare found the meanes: he propounded unto them to send men who might search the Tower; with the which contented, they sent two hundred armed men, who having searched every corner, received the keyes of the gates, and so secured their entry: Their complements were short and coole, as was to be expected in a businesse of such nature. They first shewed him the Letters written under his owne hand to the Duke of Ireland, upbraiding him with the breach of his private promise, and pub­lique faith, publiquely proclaimed: but at the sight of his safe conduct for France, which in the second place they shewed him, he grew pale, and not knowing what to say in his defence, burst forth into teares. That 1388. which was then resolved upon, was, that he would the next day cometo Westminster, to take order for his past misgovernment. He would have had them lodge in the Tower with him, but they excused themselves, up­on the necessity of their being present with their men. For his satisfacti­on Darby and Nottingham tarried there. At night when hee retired to his rest, those who were nearest about him, wished him to consider, that to goe to Westminster would be both shamefull, and dangerous: whilst they considered not, that where honour is in question, shame consists not in the eyes but in the minde, which could penetrate the thickest walls: and that he could not meet with greater danger by comming forth, since he had already put himselfe into the hands of his most hated enemies. But according to his custome, imbracing the worst counsell, he refused to goe to Westminster: at which the Barons thinking themselves delu­ded, they sent him word that if he would not come, they would chuse a new King in his stead. A more considerable shame and danger, then was the quitting of the Tower, and the doing of what of himselfe as King, he ought unintreated to have done. Yet all these errours considered, there is no law which permits subjects to make so insolent a protestation.

Hitherto their actions had been in some sort justifiable; the States ne­cessity excused what of violence they had formerly used: but to use such tearmes to a young King as ought onely to be used to an old incorrigible Tyrant, they had neither law for their justification, nor reason for their excuse; since they were chosen Governours for the conservation not ex­tirpation of the King and Regall Majesty; but though God was pleased that his inconstancie should be punished by this affront, and that like a childe he should be frighted with the noise of the rod, hee was not not­withstanding pleased, that they should hate that in him, which they loved in themselves, that they should fall from justice to severity, and from a ju­ridicall government to tyranny: so as both sides having offended, it is no wonder if all of them in their due times did receive alike punishment.

The King being by threats brought to Westminster, this proposition was made unto him, that in consideration of many disorders which had happened to the prejudice of his honour, and the good government of the [Page 23] Kingdome, by the infidelity of certaine traytors that were too familiarly about him, (to the end that more the like might not ensue) hee would bee pleased that they might bee banished the Court, and his presence. To the which, he (bereaved of all acts of will, especially such as tended to contra­diction) did much against his will, give consent; grieving that hee was to lose their company who hee intirely loved, and esteemed his onely faith­full advisers; the chiefe of these were three Prelates: The Archbishop of Yorke, the Bishop of Durham his Treasurer, and the Bishop of Chichester his Confessor. Three Barons, Zouch, Burnel, and Beamont; five Knights, many Ladies and Gentlewomen. To boot with their banishment, they were to give in bond for their appearing at the next Parliament, to answer to such things as should be alledged against them. Of the three Bishops, Yorke and Chichester, were freed from this ingagement, for they were formerly fled. Many others of all conditions were imprisoned, Priests, Gentlemen, and Lawyers: of the which the most considerable were Si­mon Burle, and Nicholas Bambre. The day appointed for Parliament be­ing come, and the Judges having tane their seats, they were all (one onely excepted) committed to prison; for that in the preceding Parliament they had given their votes for the legitimacy of the election of the governours; and in the Castle at Nottingham, had subscribed to the Articles of Tri­silian, to the contradiction of what they had formerly done. Those who had absented themselves, were cited to appeare. The Duke of Ireland, the Archbishop of Yorke, Earle of Suffolke, and Trisilian, were summo­ded to answer to such Articles of Treason as should bee objected unto them, by Gloster, Darby, Arundel, and Nottingham: and that in case they did not appeare during the sitting of that Parliament (which conti­nued from the Purification to Pentecost) they should be for ever banish­ed, and their goods confiscated. Trisilian, relying more upon his wari­nesse, then a wary man ought to doe, was betrayed by one of his servants, and taken in a house neare the Parliament, whither with confidence he had retired himselfe, that he might the better discover the daily passages. He had the face to deny himselfe, having so transformed himselfe, as he was almost not to be knowne. After much mockery, he was hanged. Bambre who was his companion in actions, was the like in fortune: hee had his head strucken off with a hatchet, which hee himselfe had caused be made to behead a number of people, whose names were found in a list about him. Many others went the same way. But the death of Simon Burle was thought lesse justifiable then all the rest. This Simon was nobly borne: Iohn his father was Knight of the Garter, and his Uncle Walter Burle was one of the first to whose charge Edward the third trusted the education of his sonne Edward, with whom this Simon being brought up under his Uncle, he proved so full of worth, as the Prince thought hee could not commit the government of his sonne Richard to a more deser­ving man. A choice not to be sleighted, being made by such a Prince. In this his charge he knew so well how to comply with Richards inclina­tion, as that when he came to the Crowne, he raised him to great honour, making him Knight of the Garter, Chamberlaine, Warden of the Cinque Ports, Constable of Dover Castle, and Privy Councellor. Some say he made him Earle of Huntington, but I finde not this made good. The [Page 24] reasons of his ruine were, his sumptuous living, the sincerity of his minde, and the places he enjoy'd; by the first, having exceeded all former presi­dents for magnificency; he drew envie upon him by his sincerity, he made Gloster his enemy, for he unfainedly loved the Duke of Ireland; the which if it were a fault in him, let who will, judge; certainly, a true affection and friendly faith, (things so seldome seene in Court) ought ra­ther to have procured praise then blame: his places, the last in order, but first in effect, was the axe that slew him. The Duke not being able to make any pretence unto any of them, neither for himselfe nor any other, save by his death; the faults which were laid to his charge, were, the wastefull spending of the Kings treasure; the converting of the souldiers pay to his private use; his having sent great summes of money to Dover Castle, from whence he had by night conveyed them into Germany; that upon the bruit of the comming of the French into England, he had used meanes to the Deane and Chapter of Canterbury, that the rich mo­nument of that Church should be put into his hands, under pretence of keeping it safe in Dover castle, but in effect to send it as his owne into Bo­hemia: to the first charge he wanted no defence, for there were so many through whose hands the Kings monies passed before they came to him, as that he had no part therein, save what the King in bounty gave him; for what concerned the souldiers pay, he was not allowed one that might reckon with him, and make even the accounts, whereupon he was found in arrere 250000. frankes; he on the other side demanded satisfaction for his expences in his journey to Bohemia concerning the Kings marriage; but this not being granted, he required time for paiment, which was like­wise denied him: for the transportation of treasure, there was no proofe made of it: that he was a friend to the Duke of Ireland (as hath bin said) might well increase his danger, but not his fault; for what concerned the tombe or monument, who can tell whether his intention was rather to send it into Bohemia, then to keepe it safe in Dover castle, as the occasion required, and his words witnessed. Justice ought not to punish a fault not committed, for that it might be committed; nor ought a Judge con­demne a man of a mentall conception not expressed; for that such a thing might have bin imagined and put in execution: two things make much for his innocency; that he was beheaded on the sudden, by the sole com­mand of the Duke of Gloster, without any legall proceeding; and that the Earle of Darby had endeavoured his freedome, insomuch, as that he grew to high tearmes with the Duke. Walsingham accuses him for ha­ving consented to sell Dover castle to the French: when the King should give him notice that he was proud, arrogant, an oppressour of the poore, a dispiser of the Church, a fornicator, an adulterer; but he rather spake like a preacher, (being indeede of the Clergie) then as an historian: for the surrendring up of Dover 'twas one of these popular errours which in the fall of great men, disperse themselves amongst the common people: it doth not appeare that the King would have sold Dover to the French; nor is it likely, that he had any intention of giving them so principall a place in England, whilst when he would have sold Callice, and the adja­cent places, he reserved unto himselfe the Dutchie of Gascony; nor did the letters which together with the pasport were intercepted, make any [Page 25] mention thereof. As for pride, arrogancie, and the neglect of the poore, they are evils much practised, against such as from a low beginning, are raised to great preferments. If on the contrary side, he had been to have shewed unto us, what store of humility, meeknesse and charity hee had found amongst such who from a low beginning have arrived at great pre­ferments (though the world be not quite void of vertue) he would have been more troubled in finding of them out, then in finding out a peece of paper wherein to make a short Catalogue of their names. Besides, though such sinnes may deserve blame, yet they deserve not death, being a fitter subject for the Court of Conscience, then the Assises. Hee was under­stood to bee a contemner of the Church (as I beleeve) by reason of his pretended sacriledge of the rich tombe, in all likelihood fals: For if the French had landed (as all men had reason to think they would) Can­terbury was no wayes defended, the losse of that treasure most certaine, and Burles providence worthy of reward and praise. For fornication and adultery (say it were true) if the lawes were therein severe, not onely the Court, but the whole world would quickly be dispeopled. I conclude, that the Duke of Gloster took liberty, & the weal-publick for his colour; but the bringing of the King under, & his own particular interest was the soule therof. The Judges remained for the last act of this Tragedy, who as the last imprisoned, so were they the last punished; they were as well as the rest, condemned to dye: but the Queen begged their pardon, since they were inforced to subscribe the Articles: they were notwithstanding bani­shed in perpetuity, having only so much as might suffise them for livelihood alotted unto them out of their confiscated goods: a good fortune which Burley met not with; for he was beheaded before the King had any notice thereof, otherwise he had not died; which when he understood, hee ut­tered against Gloster what ever affection, passion, or reason could dictate unto him. But this Oligarchy did not long continue: for it began but a little before the last yeare of Richards minority, and ended as soone as hee came to full age, the yeare 1389. The manner of destroying it (whe­ther it proceeded from the advice of others, or from himselfe) was noble 1383. and generous: hee commanded all the Nobility to come to Court, which they did: being all met in the Councel Chamber, he was not long in com­ming thither himselfe. They all with nuch expectation longed to heare what he would say; when being set in his chaire, and looking round a­bout him, he asked them how old they thought hee was? Answer was made full 21. If so (said he) in reason my condition should not be worse then is the condition of my subjects, who by the lawes are at those yeares exempted from guardianship, and are admitted to the managing of their owne affaires. Hitherto I have been a ward; being now no more so, I renounce the being governed by you, intending hereafter to governe my person and my affaires, as best shall please my selfe. And to the end that from that time forward, they might hold him for a free and absolute Prince, he forthwith tooke their offices from some of them, and confer­red them upon some others: breaking the ice by the change of Chancellour. The Archbishop of Yorke, formerly Bishop of Ely (for when Nevil was banished, he removed to that See) kneeling downe, did readily deliver up unto him the great Seale. Hee likewise changed the [Page 26] Lord Treasurer, the Clarke of the Signet, and the Judges, hee removed the Earle of Arundel from being Admirall, and conferred that place up­on the Earle of Huntington, brother by the mothers side to his Majesty. He put the Duke of Gloster, Earle of Warwicke, and others from the Councell Table, naming new Councellors in their places: And not yet fully resolved whom to chuse for Chancellor, hee carried the great Seale along with him to his Chamber, where pitching upon a choice, he retur­ned backe, and gave it to William Wickham Bishop of Winchester; a fa­vour which he unwillingly received. All this passed quietly on, no words proceeding from any one, although the kingdome, a body then ill affe­cted, passed but from one ague fit to another.

At the end of this yeare the Duke of Lancaster returned to England, 1390. having spent three yeares abroad. The mortality which fell amongst his people, caused by the excessive heats in Spaine, forced him to retire into Gascony, where having begun a treaty with the Duke of Berry, to give un­to him for wife his daughter Catherine (she upon whom the pretence to the Kingdome of Castile fell after her mothers death) he thereby raised such jealousies in Iohn the first, who then reigned, as that the said Iohn deman­ded her for wife unto his eldest sonne Henry, (who was afterwards the third King of that name) a youth of but ten yeares of age, though Cathe­rine were nineteen years old: Upon these conditions, that hee should pay unto him for the present, 200000 Nobles, and 10000 markes yearly du­ring the life of the Duke, and his wife Constance, mother to Catherine: That he should assigne over unto Constans [...], Guadalajara, Medina del Campo, and Olmedo, that shee might enjoy the fruits thereof during her life: and that the espoused Princesse should be stiled by the name of Princesse of Austria; the sonnes of those Kings, though their eldest, till then being on­ly stiled Infanti. The two on the other side, renounced all their preten­sions to those Kingdomes. The Duke had before this, married his daugh­ter Phillep, borne unto him by his former wife, to Iohn the first, King of Portugall; having the good fortune to place them both, in a like countrey and dignity. His comming into England happened in an opportune time, for the King having summoned the Nobility to Redding, (where he then was) some strange alteration was doubted, the ill will he bore to ma­ny being considered: the Duke did so behave himselfe, as sweetning the King, they were all well received, and contentedly dismissed. But the Kings jealousies of him not ceasing, being likewise displeased with his returne, hee by the assistance of the first Parliament (to the end that hee might againe bee gone) gave him the Dutchy of Aquitany, together with all the honours, incomes and prerogatives, which of old did belong unto that Dukedome, and which for the present were enjoyed by that Crowne; investing him with the accustomed badges of golden rod, and Ducall Cap, upon the meere tye of simple homage. Richard was not strait handed of what he possessed, but mainly addicted to his owne will, with the which rather then to have parted, he would well nigh have par­ted with his kingdome. Insomuch as fearing lest if Lancaster should joyne with Gloster, hee mought give him enough to doe, To free him­selfe from an imaginary obstacle, hee weighed not the essentiall impove­rishing of the Crowne, of its richest Jewell. And if the effects did not [Page 27] follow, it was not for lacke of his good will, but the good will of the people of that Dutchy; who being obstinate, would not contrary to their priviledges, be dismembred from the Crowne of England; neither did Glosters siding with him (though extravagant) any thing at all availe; which did not proceed from brotherly affection, as he would have it con­ceived, but for that Lancaster being present, his authority was the lesse, who did pretend to be the onely director in the government of af­faires. Hee was not troubled at the eldership of his other brother, the Duke of Yorke, since that he chiefly intended his private pleasures. But Richard was deceived in Lancasters intentions: for it is not alwayes good to judge of things present by what is past. For as in his departing from Spain, he merited to be esteemed one of the most valiant and wisest Prin­ces that did then live; so at his returne to England he deserved to be held a peace-maker: experience and the incommodities of warre, having made him desirous of repose, and changed or moderated his disposition; the which was plainly seen in him the short time that he lived: since that he did not onely tolerate the being denied by the Gascones, but did patiently endure his sonnes distastes and exile: not being moved at what­soever accident, save his brothers death; the which hee notwithstanding suffered, whilst if he had had like ambition as formerly, hee mought not have been destitute of hopes; the King being mightily hated, he as much beloved: And though the putting of his brother to death, mought bee justifiable, the manner thereof was such as could not be denied to be un­just, cruell and tyrannicall.

The King was no sooner come to age, but hee was informed that the 1391. Duke of Gloster had raised forces against him; the which being found false, he would not suffer him to justifie himselfe, but injoyned him silence: were it either that hee might keepe this plea on foote against him, or to free his accusers from punishment; the three next yeares past peaceably on, the peace of France being on both sides earnestly endeavoured, but the reciprocall pretentions and stoutnesse of both parties made it impossible to bee concluded. Richard did desire it, and the difficulties which the French met with for matter of warre, made them likewise desire it as much, if not more. Charles his indisposition continued, as likewise the Uncles discords, each intent to their owne private designes and interest, so as not able to conclude a peace, they continued the league one yeare longer, the which (the state being in quiet) afforded Richard leasure to live according to his owne inclination, which was such as had he not erred in the extreme, could not have beene better, but the splen­dor of prodigality is like that of lightning, which consumes and beares downe whatsoever it meets withall, hee kept the greatest and noblest Court of any King in Europe. His subjects led by his example, dreamt not of frugality (a ver [...]ue not much knowne in England) but gave themselves over to luxuriousnesse; great was his excesse of diet, the pompe and bravery of his Court in apparell unimitated, the number of his servants exceeding all beliefe, 10000. men fed daily of his bread; the Queene had 300. women which belonged to her service, 300. was the number which belonged to the kitchin: when he went to Ireland he made him a horse-mans coat which cost 3000. markes; according to [Page 28] which if you proportion all other expences the summe will not be to be estimated. Hee proclaimed Tiltings and Barriers, Princes and Cavalieres from all parts flocked thither, who were all defraid during their being there, and presented at their departing. In his private family he knew not how to deny any thing; he granted whatsoever was asked. The easinesse of obtaining favours, imbased their value: for favours are then greatest, and most to be esteemed of, when they are conferred with most judge­ment, and least expected; so as his ordinary revenues not suffising, hee was inforced to use extraordinary meanes. His immoderate affection to his servants, his Uncles tyranny, and peoples hatred, not able to undoe him, his immense prodigality made the last despair, without the which he could not have been ruined; being in some necessity for lack of money, & willing perchance by a little to try whether he might rely on a greater sum upon occasion, he desired to borrow of the Citie of London a thousand pound; an inconsiderable summe for such a King, and so rich a Citie: they notwithstanding honested their deniall; with pretending not to have so great a summe; which answer, though discourteous, was not injurious. But an Italian Merchant offering to lay downe the money for them, hee was so cruelly beaten, as that they had well nigh slaine him: so as the af­front reflecting upon the King, who neither in justice nor reputation could sit downe by it, As hee was meditating upon revenge, hee met with a se­cond insolencie, more cruell and more insufferable. The Bishop of Sals­bury, Lord Treasurer, was then at the Court at Windsor, having left the greatest part of his houshold at London. It happened a man of his desi­rous to sport himselfe with a Baker, who passed by with a Basket full of Bread, tooke a loafe out of the Basket; the Baker hereupon giving ill words, he broke his head: the common people would have laid hands up­on this man, but being defended by his companions, hee got into his ma­sters house: they beset the house, and were ready to have set it on fire, had not the Lord Maior and the rest of his brethren; come in; the people de­manded the delinquent, threatning fire and sword. The Bishops servants denied to deliver him, pleading the priviledge of Ecclesiasticall immuni­ty; and certainly much mischiefe would have beene done, had not the Maior, what by authority, what by faire speeches, appeased them; shewing them that faults, how great soever they were, ought not to bee punished in such a popular seditious way; for such justice would bee more erroneous then any other fault could be. The Bishop being advertised hereof, made his present addresse unto the King, accompanied with as many Prelates as were then at Court; he so aggravated the businesse, as that happening at the same time, when as the Italians wounds were as yet fresh, hee gave or­der for the imprisonment of the Maior, and rest of his society, as all equal­ly guilty; not for that they were authors of this sedition, but for that ha­ving behaved themselves insolently before, they had given example to the common people to doe the like. Nor yet herewithall contented, hee bereft the Citie of all its priviledges, and wholly overthrowing the fa­brick thereof, gave the government of the Citie to a Gentleman that was his servant: nor did he lessen his resolution of punishing them, though they were interceded for by many, of the which the Duke of Gloster was the chiefe: But being importuned by so many, he suffered himselfe to be per­swaded [Page 29] to goe, accompanied by his Queen, to London; where being met with shews & arches triumphall, and richly presented, as if it had been the first day of his coronation; he restored the Citie to its former condition, the Maior and other Ministers to their former dignities, and recalled the seats of justice from Yorke (whither to their prejudice and disgrace they had been put over) but upon this condition, that they should pay unto him ten thousand pounds Sterling, for the charge hee had been at in redu­cing them to their duties, which was the chiefest cause of alienating them from him. So now the thousand pound which was at first but desired to be borrowed, and was denied, grew to ten thousand pound by way of Fine; their presents and other ceremonies at the making of his entry, ha­ving cost them as much, without receiving any thankes or acknowledge­ment.

This meane while the league drew to an end, wherewithall neither of 1393. the Kings were well pleased. The Dukes of Berry, and of Burgondy were sent to Bullen, in the behalfe of the French; and the Dukes of Lan­caster and Gloster in the English behalfe; where meeting with the for­mer difficulties, they agreed upon a truce for foure yeares, wherein they comprehended the King of Scots, which was afterwards a step towards the long truce and affinity which ensued.

This yeare did Queen Anne die, as likewise the Dutchesse of Lanca­ster, 1394. the Countesse of Darby, and the next yeare the Dutchesse of Yorke, as if Fortune had conspired to make almost all the Princes of the bloud, accompanie the King in his widowership. Richard was sensible of her death, (as being affectionate enough) but did not for all that alter his re­solution of going personally into Ireland: as neither did it divert Lanca­ster from going to take possession of his Dutchy of Guascony. The King past over into Ireland with an Army of thirty thousand Bow-men, and 4000 men at armes, where in nine months hee wonne more then did ever the famous King Edward, his grand-father; who having at the same time to doe with Scotland, Flanders, Normandy, Brittanny, and Guascony, could not fix his thoughts onely upon this nation, as Richard might doe, who made his way rather by dexterity, then force. For the Countrey be­ing full of woods and marrish grounds, not well stored with provisions, the inhabitants accustomed to poverty, to the inconveniencies of the aire, to living in Cavernes, to the passing over Bogges, and commodious con­veying of themselves from one place to another, the conquering of them was likely to have proved a tedious and troublesome businesse. The which fore-seen by him, he endevoured to win them after a new manner. He payed the Souldiers punctually, to the end they might not be necessi­tated to injure the Countrey; hee made much of such as yeelded them­selves, and leaving for the present the Armes which he and his predeces­sors had wont to beare in their Shields, he tooke those which were borne by Edward the Confessor, placing them in his Standards and Seales: and reaped his ends thereby; for by this means he purchased their love; the memory of that holy King being extraordinarily reverenced by the Irish. By such like cunning as this, people who are more led by blinde imagi­nations, then by the truth, are usually deluded. This is one kinde of na­turall not prohibited Magicke, which by timely applying the Princes [Page 30] actions to the peoples humours, workes wonderfull effects without the effusion of bloud.

This Ireland was commanded by many petty Kings; almost every Province had its particular Prince: he drew foure of them to his obedi­ence, 1395 and by the example of his honourable treating of them, had drawne all the rest, had he not been by his Prelates desired to returne, to remedy the troubles which the Wiclifs opinions had raised up in England. Whence it may be gathered, that had hee not been naturally given to listen unto bad advice and flattery, hee would have proved a good Prince.

The Duke of Lancaster was received in Guascony as the Sonne and 1396 Uncle of a King, but not as Duke of Aquitany: he with much mode­sty shewed them the donation which his Nephew had given him, and did with as much patience endure the not receiving of it: He mo­ved, that Embassadours mought be sent into England, giving them his word, that hee would approve of what should bee there agreed upon, though to his prejudice; the which was done. The points which oppo­sed the donative, were two: The one pertaining to Justice, the other to reason of State. That which belonged to Justice, was, the preservation of their priviledges. The Kings of England were obliged to keep the Dukedome of Aquitany perpetually united unto the Crowne: they had deprived themselves of any power of dismembring it, giving it away, or of giving it in fee-farme to any whosoever, were he or Sonne, Brother, or Uncle to the Crowne. They swore at their coronations, to maintaine these priviledges, and did authorise them by letters Patents, and great Seales. Richard had sworne the same, and had given them let­ters Patents to the same purpose; but hee had forgot it, being very young when he did it. The point of State was; that the successive Dukes con­tracting affinity with other Princes, (which must of necessity ensue) as namely with Burgondy, France, Normandy, Brettany, Fois, Navar, Ca­stile and Portugal, they should in processe of time divest themselves of all interest and shake off the friendship of England, and the subjection there­unto. The reason of their priviledge wrought much with Richard; but this last consideration broke the necke of all the favours therein intended to the Duke, for all that Gloster could do to the contrary, who left nothing unattempted, whereby he might keep him aloofe off. Hee annulled the donation, and recalled the Duke, receiving him at his returne with more honour then good will. This businesse being ended, there remained no­thing of importance, but the providing of himself of a new wife, not any daughter being then to be found amongst his neighbouring Princes. Na­var had daughters and sisters too, but Richard did not incline that way. The Duke of Gloster had a daughter marriageable; nor could any thing more acceptable have befallen the Kingdome; but the being his full Cosen-german, served him for a justifiable excuse: for if bare consan­guinity had emboldned the Duke so much to molest him, what might he expect from him when hee should bee likewise joyned unto him by so neere affinity as to be his Father-in-law. But if this was the cause why he would not marry her, he was deceived: for this was the onely means to have made the Duke on his side, and whereby to have avoided the [Page 31] evill which did befall him: But the blinded eyes of humane judgement fore-sees not what's to come, but rather by eschewing meets with those evils which it thought to have left behinde. The true cause, as I con­ceive, was, that as his love was in extremity, so was his hatred; and that consequently the hatred he bore to Gloster, was the reason why hee dete­sted this match, not the meannesse of bloud.

The King of France had a daughter between seven and eight yeares old; here Richard pitched his resolution, though hee therein met with three obstacles, all of them of moment: That shee was daughter to a King that was his enemy: so yong, as that hee was not in a long time to hope for issue by her: and that she was formerly promised in marriage to the Duke of Brettanies eldest sonne. Hee did not so much reflect upon the first, save what made for his advantage: for detesting warre with France, he could not finde a better meanes to settle a peace between the two Crownes, then this. For her yeares, hee did not much value them, since hee himselfe was young enough; and also her being promised to Brettany, he slighted it, since the King of France stood more in need of his friendship, then the friendship of any other. Hee sent a solemne Embas­sage to France; and though answer was not presently made, (for time was taken to consider of it) the Embassadours returned partly assured of successe: the King, People, and Councell, being all of them well incli­ned to the businesse.

At this same time, the Duke of Lancaster tooke his third wife. It so fell out, as that he had three sonnes and a daughter by one Catherine Roet, the daughter of a King of Armes, she was servant to his first wife Bianca, and he kept her as his Concubine during the life of his second. The de­sire hee had to make his children legitimate, and her good conditions (though not nobly borne, as he) made him resolve to marry her; and not unluckily: for Iohn the Duke of Somerset (who was he alone who of the three brethren had any issue) was Great-grand-father by the mothers side, to Henry the seventh, who put a period to the civill warres of England: He did legitimate them, and his succeeding marriage by Act of Parlia­ment, and by ratification of Pope Boniface the ninth, from whom he ob­tained a Bull to that effect. I was not willing to leave out this particular in this place, as necessary for what we shall hereafter meet withall.

The Kings marriage was likewise this meane while concluded: and since a finall peace could not bee concluded on, in respect of many places which the English pretended unto, a suspension of Armes for thirty yeares was covenanted, with caution that both sides should peacebly enjoy what at this time they were possessed of. A businesse which did so highly in­cense the Duke of Gloster, as the King did divers times feare lest hee might upon this occasion raise a rebellion; since the people depended much upon him, and were not very well pleased with this marriage, nor truce; he went in person to the confines of France, to receive his wife, as likewise did her father, to deliver her up unto him. Being with much content parted, he caused her to be crowned at Westminster, not being 1397. yet fully 8 years old. Shortly after came the Count Saint Paul into Eng­land, sent by Charles to receive the oath of truce; a man of a working spirit, and who was husband to Iane Holland, sister to Richard by the mothers [Page 32] side. The King discoursing with this man, complained of the Duke of Glosters contumacie, that hee was the onely man who opposed himselfe against the match with France, as desirous of warre with that Nation, and likely (that not ensuing) to raise a warre at home. To which the Count, with a sad brow, replied; That the birth and bloud of such subjects, allow­ing them more authority then stood with the Kings safety, was dange­rous; that to temporize in cures, made the malady greater: But that as one poyson was antidote to another; so dangers could not but by dangers be salved: yet with this advantage, that the former being certaine, 'twas a question whether the others would prove so or no: That clemencie, when 'twas the off-spring of weaknesse and feare, was alwayes subject to ingratitude and neglect, never to thankfulnesse and acknowledgement. So as Princes who wanted the Ballance to weigh offences, and the power to counterpoise them by condigne punishments, might account themselves as already lost.

These or the like words gave the definitive sentence against Glosters life; for they were fast rooted into Richards minde, as proceeding from one that was wise, a Friend and an Ally, and who was void of interest. He now wavered no longer neither in respects nor delayes, hee firmly resol­ved to put him to death, but had not pitched upon the manner. As soone as the Count was gone from England, he acquainted the Earle of Hun­tington, and of Nottingham with his designe; and having with them a­greed upon what was to be done, he went out of London one night about Supper time, and rid all night accompanied by a great many armed men; who lying in ambush not farre from Plashey, the Dukes house, the King sent Huntington to acquaint him with his comming: The message was no sooner delivered, but by the sound of trumpets, notice was given of the Kings arrivall. The Duke, who was then in bed, threw his night gowne about him, and came downe to meet his Majesty, taxing Huntington of unkindnesse for not having given him earlier notice. But these comple­mentall quarrels were soone appeased by the Kings smiling aspect, who desired him to goe make himselfe ready, for that he must presently, upon some urgent occasion, goe along with him to London. The Dutchesse in her night cloathes, entertained the King whilst her husband did on his apparrell; who not having leasure to take his usualll traine along with him, got on horse-backe, followed by some few, and giving order for the rest to follow him. As soone as they were come to the place of ambush, Richard spur'd on, and the Marshall comming from where hee was con­ceald, tooke the Duke prisoner: 'twas bootlesse for him to call upon the King, who seeming as if he heard him not, pursued on his way. The unfortunate man was brought to the Thames, there imbarked, and carried to Callis, a fort under the command of the said Marshall; where hee was shortly after strangled: or, as many will have it, stifled between pillowes. A businesse which clearly demonstrates unto us, that their number is but small, who falling into extravagancies, upon confidence in the people, have not come to miserable ends. And though errors were committed on both sides, it cannot notwithstanding be denied, but that Princes are provoked unto tyranny more by the insolencies of particular men, then of their owne disposition. For it being dangerous to proceed by the ordi­nary [Page 33] course of Law with a priviledged man, as was Gloster, it behoved Richard to doe that by force, which he was not sure to effect by justice; since that his danger was more to be feared in the tolerating of such pre­sumptions, then in the violating of the Lawes. And so it had certainly fallen out, had he not done worse: But evils fruitfull in themselves, pro­duce multitudes of their like: And honesty, in any one affaire, once for­saken, quite banisheth all shame in all succeeding actions. After the Count Saint Pauls departure, the King had received many distasts, which woun­ding his reputation, had confirmed him in his resolution of putting the Duke to death. Brest, a Fort of great consequence in Brettany, was by the Duke thereofpawned for a great summe of money to Edward the third, upon condition of being rendred when the moneyes should bee paid. It was a place which had formerly fitted England for accommodations of warre in these parts. And if Richard had had the same designes his pre­decessors had, as he had not, it may bee hee would not so punctually have observed conditions, but as matters now went having received the mo­nies, he restored it to the owner without further dispute. The Duke of Gloster who no whit abated his blaming of the Kings actions, did in bit­ter manner twit him in the teeth with his restitution, as done to the preju­dice and dishonour of the State: the King who thought he had not well understood him (so outragious was his language) willed him to speak it o­ver againe; and he not changing the sense, but saying the very self same words over again, did so much incense his Majesty, as after having shewed him that he had done nothing which without infamy he could have for­borne to have done, he seemed to his other Uncles to be much greeved thereat; who though they confessed him to be over violent, did yet ex­cuse him; affirming him to be as void of malice, as jealous of the honour of the kingdome; the which he was in so high a degree as that he could not suffer the least diminution thereof, how just soever. Afterwards, when any discourse concerning the King, was offered, hee spoke of him as of one degenerate, and without courage; that being unfit for govern­ment, the greatest favours that could be done him, were to allot liveli­hood unto him in some commodious prison. Whereupon his brethren despairing of his amendment, and fearing lest their presence might adde to his boldnesse, retired themselves to their Countrey-houses; beleeving, that being left alone, he would be more reasonable. But so far was he from this, as that he fell upon a resolution, which if it were not the cause, was the last pretence of his death: he had as well plotted the Kings ruine, as the King his. Hereupon a randesvous was made in Arundell Castle; where a resolution was taken of ceasing upon the Kings person; of imprisoning the Dukes of Lancaster and Yorke (to the end that they might not disturbe the businesse) and of hanging the greatest part of all the Privie Councell. The chiefe conspirators were, the Earle of Dar­by, Arundell, the Marshall and Warwicke; and of Prelates, the Arch­bishop of Canterbury, the Abbot of Saint Albons, and the Prior of Westminster. This conspiracie is thus reported by a certaine Historian; but I cannot beleeve it to be true, for reasons which shall hereafter bee alledged. The Earle Marshall discovered the plot unto the King, and the King unto the Councell, which perswaded him to retaine the Duke; the [Page 34] which being done, Arundell and Warwicke were forthwith imprisoned. And to shun the danger of a popular insurrection, publicke proclamation was made, that the fore named persons were imprisoned not for any for­mer fault, but for fresh treasonable offences, to be made knowne the next Parliament, where they should be judged. The Lord Cobham, and di­vers others, were likewise made prisoners. The meane while the King not knowing how his two Uncles would take this businesse, furnished himselfe with Souldiers, and commanded those of his side to come to the Parliament well attended. The two Dukes hearing that their brother was taken, and afterwards put to death, were much afraid of themselves; fearing, lest the King being ill counselled, might take armes likewise a­gainst them. Whereupon having assembled together a great many of such as sided with them, they came to London, where they were affecti­onately received by the people, who wanted onely a head to rise in rebel­lion. But Lancasters ambition being long since blowne over, and Yorke the same he ever was all things continued in their former quiet: many Lords interposing themselves, who perswaded them that the King would doe nothing for the time to come without their knowledge and consent; the which he afterwards ill-favouredly performed.

When the Parliament was assembled, the faults of those who were im­prisoned, were laid open. To disguise the mystery, commandement was sent to Callais to the Earle Marshall, that hee should present the Duke. Answere was made, that he was dead of a violent feaver. And as there was none desirous to sift further into the truth thereof: so did they not de­murre upon the condemning of him, and the confiscation of his goods. Arundel & Warwick were sentenced to be hanged, drawn and quartered, as Traytors. The formers punishment was remitted to a single beheading, in respect to his bloud: for he was the sonne of Elenor the daughter of Henry Plantagenet, Earle of Lancaster, who came from Edmund the se­cond sonne of Henry the third. The other (his life being pardoned, but not his goods) was condemned to perpetuall prisonment in the Isle of of Man: for confessing himselfe guilty, (which Arundell would not do) he was referred to the Kings mercie. The Archbishop of Canterbury, accused for having obtained a pardon for his brother the Earle of Arun­dell, a declared Traytor, (his defence unheard) was condemned to a per­petuall banishment: his patrimoniall goods confiscated, and a new Arch­bishop obtained from Rome to supply his place in Church, (who held the place onely till the other was called home, no mention was made of the conspiracie at Arundell Castle, which is sufficient to make it bee supposed false; since that alone had been enough to have condemned him. False tales were framed to undoe the Archbishop, whilst he might have beene found guilty of treason in the highest degree.

But the wonder wa [...], how the Duke of Lancaster, who was made Lord high Constable for the present occasion, had the heart to heare his brother called traytor; and in the giving of his sentence to call him so himselfe; whilst being formerly himselfe accused of treason by the Irish Fryer, he was by Gloster more brotherly dealt withall. The which surely happened, either for that where private interest doth pre­vaile, honesty and affection must give place: or else for that men who are [Page 35] politickly wise, had rather trust their honour to the talke of the vulgar, than their goods and lives to the refined sense of supreame authority: the one more plausible, the other more secure. The like befell the Earle of Arundell, who observing that the Earle Marshall, who was his sonne-in­law, and the Earle of Kent his nephew, assisted as well to the custody of his person, as the solicitation of his punishment, said unto them: That o­thers would hereafter be spectators of their misery, as for the present they were of his, whilst in reason it should least become them to behold such a spectacle. The common people beleeved that hee died a Martyr; that the King, haunted with evill apparitions, wished hee had never seene him, and that his head was by miracle rejoyned unto his body: the be­liefe whereof grew to such a height, as that the King caused him ten dayes after to be taken by night out of his grave, commanding certaine Lords to goe see the truth of it. They found his head (as by the headsman) parted from his body, and caused his head & body to be reburied in an un­knowne place, to the end that the people might commit no more such foolish superstitions. The feast of the Nativity caused a prorogation of the Parliament, which was adjurned to Shrewsbury, where the King crea­ted five Dukes. He made Darby Duke of Hereford, Nottingham Duke of Norfolke, Rutland Yorkes eldest sonne, Duke of Aumerle, and his two brothers, Kent and Huntington, Dukes of Surrey and of Exeter. Margaret, the daughter and heire of Thomas, late Earle of Norfolke, fifth sonne to Edward the first, was created (for her owne life) Dutchesse of Norfolke: He made the Earle of Somerset Marquis Dorset: the Lord Spencer Earle of Gloster, Lord Nevill Earle of Westmerland, Lord Scroope Earle of Wiltshire, and Lord Thomas Pearcie Earle of Worcester, dividing a­mongst them the goods of Gloster, Arundell and Warwicke, the more to oblige them unto him. The other prisoners were proceeded withall with lesse severity. He anulled the Acts of Parliament made the eleventh yeare of his reigne. He granted (according to custome) a generall par­don, excepting fiftie to be by him named; intending by this meanes to keep them all in their duties: for every one was sure, if they should fall in­to his disfavour, to be one of the fiftie excepted; so as having reduced af­faires according to his owne will, and rid his hands of those hee stood in feare of, hee thought hee might now doe what hee list without feare of checke; since there was none of so cleare a conscience, who had not cause to feare himselfe. The Duke of Hereford, who from such actions apprehended danger of publicke hate, finding a fit occasion to speak with the Duke of Norfolke, told him, that hee being a Counsellor, and one whom the King did much affie in, he was bound in duty to make him see, that the small esteeme his Majestie made of the Nobility, though lesse of himselfe (suffering himselfe to be ruled by people of base condition, and no worth) might likely one day cause unto him some unlooked for incon­veniencie, since that the peoples patience was not long to be relied upon; especially when it is transformed into desperation and fury. Norfolke promised his service therein, seeming well pleased with it, though indeed hee no wayes liked it. For considering that such like offices were un­pleasing to the King, and that his favour was not to be preserved by giving him good advice, but by soothing him, hee did in so detestable a manner [Page 36] relate Herefords discourse, as causing him to be called for, he would have Norfolke to make good to Herefords face what he had behinde his back affirmed of him: the which the one affirming, and the other denying, the lye being given on both sides, Hereford threw downe his glove, which Norfolke readily tooke up; the King appointing them Coventry for the place, and Saint Lamberts day for the time of combat. The two Cham­pions failed not to appeare at the time appointed, and had already begun their carreere with lance in rest, when they were commanded to hold their hands. The King having a long while disputed the businesse upon the Scaffold (which was sumptuously built for his Majesty to see the Duell) caused proclamation be made, that for good respects his Majesty would not have the combat further proceeded in; and that his pleasure was, that the Duke of Hereford should bee banished the kingdome for ten yeares, upon perill of his life, and the Duke of Norfolke for ever upon the like penalty. It was observed that this sentence was given the same day twelve-month that Norfolke had caused Gloster to bee strangled at Callais. He forthwith left England, and in little more then one yeare af­ter died for griefe at Venice. 'Twas thought that the Kngs rigour to­wards him, proceeded from a desire he had to be rid of him: for hee ha­ving been formerly of the Barons faction, and having of late wrought himself into the Kings favour by the ruine of others, he thought that upon occasion he might serve him as he had done his friend the Duke of Glo­ster, and the Earle of Arundell his sonne-in-law. Princes though they doe not punish themselves for the evill they commit, punish the instruments of evill, to the end that they may not be thought altogether unjust.

The Duke of Hereford, who when he took his leave, in token of the Kings good will, was remitted foure yeares of his banishment; parted from England, being generally bewailed, and was well received in France, where the Duke of Berry would have given him his daughter for wife, had he not been hindred by Richard, fearing least the favour of that Duke in France, and the peoples love in England, might prove dan­gerous. Richard by reason of superfluous expences, was in continuall want; and money past through his hands as water through a sieve. Con­tinuall necessity was the continuall feaver which caused this thirst in him; the which not able to bee quenched by the ordinary revenues of the Crowne, nor yet by the extraordinary helpes of Parliament, hee was inforced to digge new Welles. Hee borrowed money of all the Lords, as well Ecclesiasticall as Temporall, by way of privy Seale, obliging himselfe to pay them, but never did: The which though it bee somewhat hard, yet not sufficient to make subjects take their last reso­lutions: For particular men doe sometimes borrow, and never pay. But the violating of justice under the pretence of doing justice, was that which turned patience to despaire. Seventeene whole Shires had almost sided with the Duke of Gloster, at least they were so said to have done. They were all held (notwithstanding the last generall pardon) guil­ty of high treason: wherewithall being threatned, they were compelled to compound for a great summe of money, to take againe the oath of al­legeance, and the richest amongst them to signe and seale unto a blanke, into which the officers appointed for this businesse, might insert what [Page 37] summe they pleased, a thing able to undoe whole families and Shires. The like was done in London to the great distate of the Citizens. Iohn Duke of Lancaster, this meane while died, and the King tooke possession of his goods, without any pretence of title, hee bereft his exiled sonne of his inheritance. The which when the Duke of York observed, hee thought it was no longer safe for him to stay in Court; whereupon he re­tired to his owne home. But the King being resolved to goe himselfe in person into Ireland, to revenge the death of Roger Mortimer, Earle of Marsh, slaine there by the rebels (he who in case succession should want, was the presumed heire to the Crowne) sent for the Duke backe, assign­ing over unto him the government of the Kingdome in his absence. This was the last expedition he made: for having left his subjects ill affected, and augmented their distates by his taking along with him great store of provisions without paying for them, hee departed with thirty thousand men, and had such good successe, as had hee not been compelled to re­turne, he would have brought that Island to totall obedience. This meane while the Towne of London, the Prelates, Nobles, and People (those especially of the abovesaid seventeen shires, who thought themselves worst dealt withall) resolved to call in the new Duke of Lancaster, not onely to the recovery of his owne inheritance, but of the Crowne and Kingdome. They sent expresse messengers to Cullen, to the end that Thomas Arundel, late Archbishop of Canterbury (who in his banishment made his abode there) might goe into France, and perswade the young Duke thereunto; who though he found it a businesse of difficulty, the dangers considered, as likewise the peoples changeablenesse; yet being brought to live by borrowing, deprived of his estate, and out of hope of ever recovering it by any other meanes, hee entertained the motion; hee pretended to King Charles (who otherwise would not have suffered him to depart that he went to see his cousin the Duke of Brittanny, and so with his approbation, imbarked himselfe with some few followers, amongst which number, Thomas sonne to the late Earle of Arundel beheaded, who not many daies before was fled from England, was one. When hee was come upon the English coast, hee would not land, but coasting along the Country, to discover the peoples inclinations, hee cast anchor at Reven­spur in Yorkshire, where he needed no invitation: for the Lords and Pre­lates flockt all thither as soone as they heard of his arrivall: So as having assembled an Army of sixty thousand fighting men, and all places, by which he passed, yeelding unto him, hee was with great acclamation, and expressions of joy, received into London. The Duke of Yorke, gover­nour of the Kingdome, who at his Nephewes first appearance, had called the Councell together, was thereby advised to leave London, and goe to S. Albans, where they might gather forces to give him battell. An advice assuredly dangerous: for the head ought first and chiefly to be defended. The forces on the Councels side, were no sooner gathered together, but that they made a protestation they would not fight against the Duke of Lancaster: for having from the beginning, declared that he pretended to nothing but to what in right did descend unto him from his Father and Mother, every man was of opinion, that since his inheritance was unjustly taken from him, he did justly in taking up of Armes to repossesse himselfe [Page 38] thereof. Hereupon those of the Kings more intimate Councell, as Willi­am Earle of Wilshire, Lord Treasurer, Sir Iohn Bushy, and Sir Henry Greene, leaving the Duke of Yorke, the Bishop of Exceter, Lord Chan­cellour, and the rest, fled to Bristoll, in the castle whereof they thought they might be safe. Sir William Bagot, one of the same fraternity, went more advisedly over to Ireland. The Duke of Yorke seeing that it was dangerous for him, and to no purpose to tarry where hee was, went to­wards Wales; where he thought he should meet the King at his returne from Ireland. Hee stayed at Beckly till such time as the Duke of Lancaster came thither, with whom (seeing the Kings affaires went so ill) he soone accorded. Lancaster finding by this time his good fortune, went to Bristoll, took in the Castle; and those three which had fled thither, were by the mad multitude soon beheaded. This newes was long in comming to Ireland, by reason of the horrible tempests at Sea, which for six weeks space suffered not a little vessell to passe over. But when it was knowne, the King did not (as he should have done) make suddenly for England, being advised by the Duke of Aumerle to tarry till his ships, which were scattered, might be gathered together, and such provisions made as were fitting for the Fleet. He caused the two young sons, the one the Duke of Glosters son, who died in his return, and the other the sonne of this Lan­caster (who was afterwards King Henry the fifth) to be kept in safe custody in the Castle of Tremni. He sent the Earle of Salisbury for England, with directions to gather together as many people as he could in Cheshire and Wales (his two beloved Countreyes) to the end that being ready at his arrivall (which should be within sixe dayes) he might encounter the ene­my before his forces grew greater. The Earle departed, came to Wales, and had got together fourty thousand good and faithfull men; by meanes of whom, if the King had come at his time appointed, hee had either re­possest himselfe of all againe, or had at least given the enemy enough to doe; but landing in Milford haven in Pembroke shire 18 dayes after, hee found, that a false report of his death being raised, and his party having fifteen dayes expected him, they had disbandoned themselves, part of them comming over to the young Duke, the rest retiring to their owne homes. Whereupon astonished at so unfortunate an encounter, his cou­rage failed him. And though those who were returned with him, pro­mised to die at his feet, he, contrary to his dignity and reputation, chose rather to lose his Kingdome then hazard his life. A weaknesse which this nation mightily detests: for the inhabitants thereof no wayes fearing death, nor willing to endure the troubles of the minde, chose rather to die, then live in misery. As soone as Lancaster understood his arrivall, he left the Duke of York at Bristoll, and took his way towards Conaway, where the King was, without either forces or retinue. All places as he went a­long surrendred themselves, & the town of Chester, formerly so faithfull, did the like. The King resolved, not to make use of his souldiers, dismis­sed them, that he with the lesse incumbrance might goe whither his fears drove him. And for that purpose, he gave order to Thomas Pearcy Earle of Worcester, the Lord high Steward of his houshold, to discharge his family, wishing they might be reserved for a better fortune. Others will have it, that Worcester formerly distasted for that Richard had a little [Page 39] before declared the Earle of Northumberland, his brother, to be a tray­tor, did of himselfe in publicke, breake the staffe of his office, and went unto the Duke of Lancaster, and that upon this occasion the Courtiers did disperse themselves. Those who counselled Richard, were of opini­on, that he should goe into France, to his wives father, or else returne to Ireland; where (failing of hopes in England) he might furnish himselfe with forraigne souldiers, to make such use of occasions, as time should ad­minister. But that if he would needs tarry in Wales, a countrey yet well affected unto him, be should doe well to passe further into the heart there­of, whilst his presence changing the lookes of fortune, some would follow him out of affection, many out of duty; and others by reason of the usur­pers scandalous actions. But all their perswasions were in vaine: for it is the property of cast downe minds patiently to expect the blowes of For­tune. And whilst their honour egges them on unto defence, their pusillanimity is such, as makes them suffer oppression. Hee adhered to those who shewed him that his hopes of France were dangerous: that the assistance he might have from thence, would confirme his subjects in their rebellion, lest they might be by them subdued. That to returne into Ire­land, would bee to no end, since hee could not promise himselfe much from the particular forces of that countrey. That hee should doe amisse to hope in the repentance of the English. For if they had out of hate a­bandoned him, they would persist in their contumacie; as despairing of pardon, having so highly offended him; that forraigne forces would bee rather harmfull then of any use, especially the French. So as there being no hope of help from abroad, and despairing of any at home, his best re­solution would bee to thinke upon his owne safety; and by giving away what he could not keepe, endeavour a safe and private life. These rea­sons made him listen unto the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Earle of Northumberland, (the one by him banished, the other proclaimed tray­tor) with whom he agreed to resigne up his Kingdome, upon condition he might be permitted to live a private life, and have the lives granted him of eight persons, such as hee should nominate. The which being largely promised him by them, & readily approved of by the Duke, they met together, the Duke using all due respects which are requisite from an obedient subject to his naturall Prince. Whilst Richard minding no­thing but his present condition, did things unworthy of his greatnesse and dignity, hee gave himselfe up into the Dukes hands the 20. of Au­gust 1399. together with all his money, horse and furniture, his money a­mounting to above a million of gold. The manner of this imprisonment is by others diversly related. They say, that the King despairing of his affaires, sent the Dukes of Exeter and of Surrey to treat with Lancaster, who keeping the former with himselfe, who was his cousin, and putting the other into the Castle at Chester, did in their stead send the Earle of Northumberland unto the King: who followed by a thousand Bow-men, and four hundred lances, was (when he should be come nigh to Conaway) to make thereof two Ambuscadoes, and passing forward himself with on­ly foure or five horsemen, hee was under a safe conduct to goe into the Castle. That the propositions he was to make, were, That Richard would speake with Lancaster, and satisfie him in two particulars: The one, that [Page 40] processe might bee made against such as had had a hand in the death of Gloster, and his companions: The other, that hee would give him an au­thenticall pardon for whatsoever former offence hee had committed a­gainst him; that netled at these demands made unto him as King, in a con­dition of not denying any thing, he tooke horse, and the Duke riding be­fore (under pretence of providing his dinner at Rutland) stayed where the ambush was, and where the King with his followers (among the which were the Earle of Salisbury, the Bishop of Salisbury, and the Lord Scroope) were by them inclosed. That when hee was come to Flint, the Duke with all his Army came thither likewise; That the Archbishop A­rundel was the first with whom hee treated; and that having gathered by what had befallen him, that Lancaster was not so simple as hereafter to affie in him, whom he had so highly offended. That punishments, par­dons and reformations were but the songs of Syrens; and that his aime was at the Kingdome, hee offered to surrender it up unto him. But how­ever it was, he was from Chester sent into the Tower of London. And if in his taking water at Westminster, had he not been waited upon by the Maior and his associates, he was likely to have been slain before he could have got unto the Tower. Lancaster on the contrary, was received by the Citie and all the Companies thereof, as King, with processions, applause, and all expressions of joy. A Parliament was called in Richards name. The Duke took serious advice concerning this affair, with his best friends, par­ticularly with his Uncle of Yorke, who were all of one opinion, That the resignation should be so done as that it might appeare voluntary; nor that being sufficient (since his imprisonment would argue an inforcement) that his deposing might bee strengthened by act and authority of Parlia­ment. To effect the first of these, divers were suborned, who having for­merly been his friends, shewed unto him the danger wherein hee was, if he did not purchase his life at the rate of the free resignation of his King­dome. The which being obtained, they fell to the effecting it. The chiefe Lords as well Ecclesiasticall as Temporall, together with the prime Judges and Lawyers, came all to the Tower, to all which Richard with his Robes on, his Crowne on head, and Scepter in his hand, presented himselfe; and taking his Chaire, after some few acknowledgements and excuses of his own misgovernment, he himselfe read his Surrender; affir­ming it to be freely done, and without compulsion. Hee moreover freed his subjects of whatsoever bonds, oathes, fidelity or homage, renouncing all further claime, authority, dignity, or title to the Crowne; leaving it free for the time to come, with all the appurtenances belonging thereun­to. This being done, he subscribed it: And then falling upon the praise of his cousin, the Duke of Lancaster, hee desired them to chuse him for his successor; And made the Archbishop Arundell, and Bishop of Here­ford his substitutes to acquaint the Parliament with this his request and resignation. And the more to witnesse his good inclination towards the Duke, he tooke from off his owne finger, a Ring wherein his Armes were ingraven, and put it upon the Dukes finger, giving him therewith­all his Ensignes of Regality, whereof he had disrobed himselfe. All this he did, as seeming desirous to lead a private life; though in his disrobing he could not hide his inward griefe, at the which there was no so hard [Page 41] heart as was not mollified. The Trustees discharged their trust unto the Parliament, which accepted the resignation. And that there might re­maine no scruple for such as should come after, many Articles were fra­med, wherein he was accused of extortion, prodigality, tyranny, of ha­ving preferred men of base condition to the highest places, of being cause of the imprisonment and death of the Duke of Gloster, and Earle of A­rundell, against the rules of Law and Justice; of having kept about him people to destroy him, permitting unto them all insolences without cor­rection. They omitted not his lasciviousnesse, perjuries, falshood, losse of reputation, rapine: Maximes of State able to ruine a State, Principals con­trary to the rights of a Crowne; his cancelling of publicke writings; his injurious proceeding against the Archbishop of Canterbury; nor any thing else that might be objected to an apparant tyrant. And as such a one he was by all the Judges (deputed for this purpose) declared incable, and unworthy; and by the votes of them all, deposed from the dignity and title of a King. Insomuch as not contented to bereave him of his kingdome, they would likewise have him therewithall to lose his reputa­tion. Commissioners were deputed to acquaint him with the Act of Par­liament, and to renounce unto him all former tyes, homage, fidelity, subje­ction or oath. To the which he made no other answer, save, That not re­garding, these titulary circumstances, he hoped his cousin would be his good friend and Lord. I have heard by some, that the lower House did not give its consent to his deposition, the which may very well be true; but Writers doe not mention it. In the interim of this inter-regnum, the Duke of Lancaster made known his Titles, by which hee laid claime un­to the Crowne, and was by generall applause cried up, King; and instal­led in his Throne by the Archbishops of Canterbury and Yorke. Thus ended the reigne, though not the life of Richard the second; a Prince in many respects worthy to have reigned, if he had not reigned.

The end of the first Booke.

THE CIVILL VVARRES OF ENGLAND; IN THE LIFE OF HENRY the fourth.
The second Booke.

HENRY the 4 th a Prince naturally well given, when he knew himself to be King, began to differ in ma­ny Henry the 4. things from what he formerly was: for the usur­pation of Kingdomes (a vice in all times blamed yet pursued) if it do not totally destroy vertue, doth at least infeeble it, or keep it in suspence. It is im­possible to contract Matrimony between the Re­gall Throne and Injustice, unlesse it bee by unjust meanes, and that the Dowry consist of any thing save cruelty and rapine. All things here below have mediums conformable to themselves, and in the order of Nature subordinate to their Genus, the good to good, the bad to bad: So he, while hee was in his prime innocency, did nothing which was not praise worthy; neither did his praise exceed his merit; but being arrived to that where ambition doth its uttermost, hee did more shamefully then miraculously metamorphose himselfe: his nature, though not changed, but some wayes altered, did by fits reduce him to what hee naturally was: in the vehemencie of his forces, revenge or command; he did not out-goe his owne preservation or security: so as though hee might deserve the name of an Usurper, yet did he not deserve to bee tear­med a tyrant: for were it otherwise, since among the Roman Emperours there were few found who were not usurpers, and yet of the number ma­ny good men, the good could not have shunned the being reputed Ty­rants. [Page 43] Henry did not subvert the fundamentall Lawes: he was sent for be­fore he did insinuate himself; the Kingdom was offered unto him before he did usurpe it. He did better make good the office of a Prince to his subjects, then did his subjects their duties unto him their Prince: neither of them forgetting their peculiar natures, he his innate goodnesse, nor they their naturall wavering and inconstancie. This may bee witnessed to us, by what befell him while he was a private man, hee did with temperance and modesty receive the praises due unto him by the victory he had over the Duke of Ireland, no vaine-glory was therein found in him, his dis­course thereof did not exceed the bounds of modesty, and the relation hee made thereof unto his associats, was void of amplification or boasting. Aid from Genua being demanded and granted against the Pirates which ro­ved up and downe the Mediterranean Sea, and coasts of Italy, hee was made Commander of them: France joyning in this expedition with England. Being come into Africa, and by meanes of his Archers lan­ded, he returned home; his modesty added to his reputation while the one and the other equally contending, strove for precedence in his re­nowne. Those who write, that in stead of making this journey, hee went against the infidels in Prusia, did not perhaps equivocate, but the diffe­rent relation of Writers, makes the undertaking indifferent, since they all agree in his praise. In the combat with the Duke of Norfolk, he proved himself to be both wise and valiant: for though strucken as if with light­ning, at his unexpected accusation, he fell into no disorder: his wisedome was inflamed, but not by anger consumed to ashes, as it is oft-times seen in such as are unexpectedly offended: he patiently endured his exile, and with dry eyes left his Countrey, whilst those who saw him goe, moiste­ned theirs. He would have gone into Holland, if the Duke his father would have permitted him; but the warre made by Albertus of Bavaria, Lord of those Countries, against the Frisons, at the instigation of his son, the Count of Ostervent, being very dangerous, and but little honour there to be won (for that people did more by desperatenesse, then skil in war, de­fend their liberties) he advised him to goe for France. He was there gra­ciously received by the King, Princes, and Court. But the King of France would needs of his owne free will allow him five hundred Crownes a weeke, for his petty occasions, (as it was termed) he thought, not to re­ceive it would argue incivility, and that the receiving of it would fasten upon him too great an obligation; so as he resolved to leave France, and go into Hungary to warre against the Turkes: He wrote hereof unto his father, who approving of the cause, but not of his resolution, propounded to him a voyage into Spaine, where having two sisters the one Queene of Castile, the other Queen of Portugall, hee might with lesse danger and discommodity make the warre which he desired against the Infidels: but being by his friends advertised, that the Physitions had given his father o­ver, as not likely to live many monthes, he went not. The Duke of Berry, who had a daughter of three and twenty yeares of age, a widow to two husbands: Henry being likewise a widower, a rich heire, and after his fa­thers decease the prime man in England next unto the King, thought to give her to him for wife: King Charles being therewithall well contented: a match which would have been serviceable to the Queene his daughter, [Page 44] and of publick good: for thus united, yea peace between the two King­domes might the easilier bee maintained. But Richard thinking this match might prove disadvantagious to his designes; and that Henry be­ing offended, was likely alwayes to be his enemy, sent the Earle of Sa­lisbury to breake it: nor would Charles his wives father displease him therein, seeing he tooke it so to heart. When the Archbishop of Canter­bury propounded his return to England, offering the Crown unto him, he could not at the first prevaile with him, nor had he prevailed with him at all, had not the King by depriving him of his inheritance, caused him de­spaire: a bad resolution, but excusable; and which cannot be blamed by the law of Nature, save as it is interdicted by the law of Christianity: so as innocent in the one, and faulty in the other, hee erred in both: such re­solutions being prejudiciall to a Kingdome, which ought alwayes to de­test all alterations. Let businesses fall out well or ill to malecontents, who are egged on by ambition and revenge (two spurres slightly guilded over with the leafe-gold of publicke good) the people cannot but bee al­wayes losers by civill brawles; nay, if the two Registers of hu­mane actions, Profit and Uprightnesse in proceeding, meet not together, (as they seldome doe) and that profit have the precedencie, it ought to be when the conservation of the Common-wealth is in question, and not to satisfie the ambition and private interests of particular men. If love unto his Countrey, or the desolation of the State, had moved Henry (Richard being deposed) there wanted not lawfull succeeders. But howsoever the malady had been better for the Kingdome then the remedy: for the one was not of long continuance; the King being mortall, and of such yeares as hee might have amended: where as the other for the space of sixe Kings reignes, produced nothing but one ill upon the necke of ano­ther; and had it not been for the matrimoniall conjunction of the two Roses in the seventh, the mischiefe had perhaps yet continued: But as it is the losse of what they did possesse in France, their losse of reputation abroad, their desolation at home, the death of hundreds, of thousands, and of fourescore or more of the bloud Royall, approve the remedy to have been more pestilentiall then the disease: and that to have continued Richard in his authority, would have been reputed lesse harmfull, then to have substituted another King, how good soever, who in a capacity of growing worse, was cause of those wofull consequences which such sub­stitutions use to draw after them. Wise Phifitions apply only approved medicines to the [...]icke party, where the case is not desperate; and in case it be, the more discreet sort doe rather suffer them to dye peaceably, then tormented with the violence of medicines. The malady here was not mortall, save as made so by the remedies. So we may conclude, that the good conditions of such as do pretend, are more harmfull then the bad of of such as doe possesse: Vertue not being what she appeares to us to be in her abstract, but what she is in the concrete of her corruptions.

Henry had, though silent, yet conspicuous competitours, by law que­stionlesse before him: as the sons of Roger Mortimer, the eldest son to Phi­lippa, the only daughter & heire to Lionell Duke of Clarence, not onely by nature, but in the eight yeare of King Richard by Parliament declared Heire to the Crowne; she being dead, her right remained in these, so as by [Page 45] vertue of the Lawes he could not justly pretend to that which contrary to the lawes & the prejudice of others he did violently usurp: But because his succession was not truly justifiable, it behoved to seek out some colour for it: his friends propounded divers titles unto him, all of them counterfeit and disguis'd, whilst right, rich and substantiall of it selfe, needes no false props. Henry did by his Mother descend from Edmond Crook-backe Earle of Lancaster, they would have this Edmond to be eldest sonne to Henry the third, Edward the first his younger brother, got the birth­right by reason of his brothers deformity: whence it ensued that all the Kings since Henry the third were illegitimate: and that for the present he was the only lawfull Prince, his Mother Blanch being the onely great Neece to Edmond: but the businesse being more maturely examined then propounded, they thought it better not to make use thereof, then to ground so great a building upon so weake a foundation. His day of Coronation being come, wherein, according to custome, his titles to the Crowne were proclaimed, three were exprest. Conquest, Richards re­signation, and his being the first heire male of the blood Royall.

The first was false, Henry made no warre, 'twas conspiracy, manifest rebellion: and the forces whereby he got the Kingdome (for he brought but fifteen Launces along with him from Brittanny) were of the Natives, who in such a case would prove both conquering and conquered. Con­quest doth presuppose a nation or people vanquished by warre; an ene­my nation which contends, not a friendly one which favours and calls in. The second title, which was the Resignation, might by the figure Iro­nia be termed Conquest, for Richards resignation was inforced, bargai­ned for in prison, and yeelded unto upon hopes of saving his life. The third, that he was the next heire male to the Crown, afforded occasion to Edmond Earle of March, the right heire indeed to say amongst his friends in a Latine allusion, that this was a right title, for that he was indeed Herus malus. But howsoever it was, he was crowned, all titles as well just as unjust admitted of by applause and silence. 'Twas observed that the day of his being proclaimed King was the same day twelve month that hee was banisht, as the day wherein the Duke of Norfolke was together with him banished, was the same day twelve month that he the said Duke had caused the Duke of Gloster to be strangled. Things which oftt-imes fall out in History, no naturall reason being to be given for it: so as we must believe them to proceed from the hand of God, who in his due time rewards every man according to his workes. The first thing this King did after he was crowned, was the making his son Henry eldest of 4 sonnes, and who was then between twelve and thirteene yeares of age, Prince of Wales, the title wherby the kings eldest son is at this day called. A decree was there made that all the dominions of the Crowne and pretensions thereunto, as well on this side as on the other side the Sea, should be conceived, as individually united in the person of King Henry, and in his default in the forenamed Prince, and he failing of issue, in Thomas, from him (in the like default) in Iohn, lastly in Humphrey, the daughters not nominated. The succession being thought sufficiently in­tail'd in the lives of foure. But because Richards person and his preten­sions might cause much alteration, it was so carried as that the chaine of [Page 46] his captivity should bee forged by the Parliament, where consultation was had what should be done with him. The Bishop of Carleil who alwayes blamed the deposing of the one, and the others substitution en­deavoured (out of more integrity then wisedome, to the danger of him­selfe, without hope of publicke good) to undoe what was done: as if a generall errour committed by some through malice, by others through feare, were to be disanulled by bare and naked reason: the arguments hee made use of were two: whether Richard might be deposed or not, and if so, whether it were just Henry should succeed him: For the first, hee shewed that a legitimate Prince, though a Tyrant, was not subordinate to the authority of subjects; that Richard was no Tyrant, his errours pro­ceeding from youth and bad counsell: that those should have beene pro­vided for by remedies lesse severe, and more just: That the Duke of Lancaster whom they called King had done more mischiefe since his returne from France, then King Richard in all his reigne; that suppose Richard had merited to be deposed, the Duke of Lancaster had no rea­son to pretend unto the Crowne, since the lawfull heires, and those who were so declared to bee by Parliament were yet living; That the Law condemnes no man unheard. That they had condemned a King who had raigned two and twenty yeares, without allowing him the hearing, and were about to condemne him againe. The Bishops reasons were like the Sunne in Aries, which moves, but doth not dissolve humours: if the foundation of this affaire on the one side was force, it was ridiculous to treat thereof on the other without equall, if not greater forces. The good Bishop was immediately laid hold on by the Earle Marshall, and sent prisoner to the Abbey of S. Albons, decree being made that Richard being served at his table, and in all things else concerning his person, like a Prince, should be imprisoned during life: and in case that any others should practise to free him out of prison, that Richard should be the first who by his death should make amends for such a fault as the occasion and ground-work of such commotions. Many other things were then de­termined: some for the peoples ease, others for the benefit of friends, and depression of enemies. The Acts of Parliament made the eleventh yeare of King Richard were confirmed; which were by him abrogated in the Parliament held in the one and twentieth yeare of his Raigne: and those of the twentieth and one yeare repealed to the generall good and satisfaction of all men; for while they stood in force, no man could thinke himselfe secure: the terme Treason being so confusedly and so maliciously enwrapped in so many aequivocations, as that there was no so slight fault which malice might not bring under that head: so as they determined that in that behalfe judgement should hereafter bee given onely according to the Statutes made in Edward the thirds time, for the confirmation of the Parliamentary proceedings the eleventh yeare, what ere was done against Richards officers was declared good: for the anul­ling of what was done the twenty one yeare, the resolutions taken against the governours were declared unjust: those who did therein suffer as the Earle of Arundell and the Duke of Gloster, or banished as the Archbi­shop of Canterbury, and Earle of Warwicke were restored in blood. He gave the Ile of Man forfeited by the death of William Scroope, Earle of [Page 47] Wiltshire, beheaded at Bristow, to the Earle of Northumberland: with this obligation, that those Earles should carry the selfe-same sword which he was girt withall when he entred the kingdome, and which was after­wards called Lancasters sword on the Kings left hand at their coronati­ons, a gift which through his owne default (as wee shall hereafter see) he enjoyed not long. To the Earle of Westmerland he gave the Coun­ty of Richmond. He distributed Governments and Offices to divers o­thers, either out of gratitude, desert, or faction. Hee recalled from ba­nishment the Earle of Arundels sonne, and the Earle of Warwicke, re­storing them to their dignities and goods which had been taken from them. The Dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, and Exceter, the Marquis Dor­set (his owne brother by the father) and the Earle of Glocester (as being those) who had chalenged Arundell and Warwicke, were deprived of such titles as had after that act been conferred upon them, and of all the goods which from that time they enjoyed, given them by Richard, by confiscation or otherwise: the Titles and incomes which they formerly enjoyed, remaining onely unto them: so as Aumerle from Duke was re­duced to be Earle of Rutland; Surrey, of Kent; and Exceter, of Hun­tington: the Marquis Dorset, his brother, to be Earle of Somerset; and the Earle of Gloster to be Lord Spencer. I call those chalengers, who accuse others, and offer to prove their accusations by single combat: as these had accused the above-named, to gratifie King Richard: and as in this Parliament, in hopes of pleasing King Henry; Aumerle, Salisbury, and divers others, were accused as traytors to the King, and offered to bee proved so by Duell. But the King considering the time and humours, knowing that Clemencie and Grace would more redound to his glory, then by giving eare to accusations, to make himselfe bee beleeved their on-fetter, appeased them; pardoning all of them, and prohibiting any fur­ther discourse, concerning that matter. Hee thought to doe the same ano­ther way, and to winne the friendship of his most profest enemies, those whom he found to be so in the behalfe of the deposed King. The three degraded Dukes were the chiefe of these; Aumerle, Richards cousin­german, and he who was most intimate with him while hee reigned, hee hoped to win the good will of the other two, though Exceter were King Richards brother, and Surrey his nephew, sonne to his other brother, who died two yeares before: hee feared not Exceter, having some interest in him, as who had married his sister Elizabeth, but beleeved to make good use of him concerning Surrey, if need should bee: so as if hee would not suffer the combates to proceed, nor that the people should triumph in their deaths, as they seemed desirous (all three of them being the causers of infinite grievances and extortions) it was out of these respects which were not in likelihood to deceive him: the present good turne which hee did them, being likely to oblige them very much: for though with justice he might have satisfied the people, and secured himselfe, hee chose (by pardoning them) to displease his subjects, and prejudice himselfe, whilst he might so justly have rid his hands of them. An excuseable fault for a Prince who stands upon such ticklish tearmes. An enemy resembles glasse, which never can be peeced. And though Christian Religion have the secret of peecing an enemy, which is for the love of God, yet Chri­stians [Page 48] (though they should) do seldome arrive at so great perfection: and though Nature may pretend to have the same secret, yet ought shee not therein to be beleeved; unlesse it proceed from two great extravagancies: either from a dead and senslesse pusillanimity, or from a generositie onely by imagination to be comprehended. The first is not to bee trusted: for basenesse and cruelty are tearmes convertible. And of the second, they onely are capable, who like Iulius-Caesar, and King Henry, beleeve that be­nefits are able to blot out injuries: but others, who judge their enemies good conditions by their owne bad ones, beleeve that good turnes are baits to revenge; and abhorring him so much the more, for that they are made the Looking-glasse wherein his noblenesse and glory may be seen; they are Diamonds to all other impressions, wax to the impression of ha­tred, as in the three above-named, and divers others, we shall shortly see.

The first newes which France heard of these alterations in England, was by the Merchants, and those so uncertaine, as they knew not what to thinke thereof; Madame de Cousi had the charge of the young Queene, who being commanded to be gone, without demanding any question, or further troubling of her mistresse, obeyed; and was waited upon to the Sea side, where a ship stayed for her, and conveyed her over to Bullen: she was the first that brought any true relation: The which, when Charles understood, he was thereat so much grieved, as that while hee was think­ing upon revenge, he relapsed into one of his wonted frenzies, the Coun­cell not knowing what to resolve upon: they perceived by the generall hatred against Richard, and the universall consent in Henry's election, that in a businesse of this nature, 'twas bootlesse to use force: for England is not to bee undone but by division. The Duke of Burgondy, who had been no lesse averse to this match in France, then was the Duke of Glo­ster in England, upbraided them with the small account they made of his counsell; and was of opinion, that the businesse was not to bee remedied by a sudden warre; but that they should doe well to wait for such occa­sions as are by discontented subjects offered unto their neighbours, such as were those of Gascoigne, who were the more displeased at Richards be­ing deposed, for that hee was borne among them, and was alwayes called Richard of Burdeaux. A wise consideration if this ill bloud had growne to a rebellion: or if Sir Robert Knolles, Lievetenant of Aquitaine, a wise and valiant Gentleman, had not hindred them by remonstrances and reasons; who likewise advertised England of the danger. This meane while the French were not wanting to themselves. The Constable de Sanserres was the first who presented himselfe upon their confines, endevouring to blow the already glowing Coal. The Duke of Burbon had recourse thither likewise, provoking the Nobility and people, offer­ing all they could desire; adding withall such promises as upon such like occasions are usuall, with as much readinesse of speech as they proved af­terwards difficult in performance. Bayon, Burdeaux, and other townes, being required, sent him their Deputies, who having no further directions then onely to heare, returned laden with offers. But these first passions being calmed, the comparative condition of France and England (the lat­ter free from Burdens, the other subject to perpetuall taxes) pointed out unto them the wholesomest resolve. For the common people love no­thing [Page 49] more then to cultivate their owne grounds to their owne proper use, and to enjoy the fruits of their owne industry, not being forced thereout to feed officers or souldiers. While things were thus carried, Thomas Per­cy Earle of Worster came thither with a fresh supply of souldiers, upon whose arrivall all practises ceased, while Richards friends endeavouring his liberty, did thereby hasten his death, which was the onely meanes to free him of the miseries wherein he now lived. The Dukes of Aumerle, Exeter and Surrey (as hath beene before said) were friendly embraced by the King, who hoped by his good usage to win their love; but the lat­ter two not being able to withstand the power of blood, nor the first the like of friendship (the which was growne to that height, that Richard, in case he should dye without issue, desired to leave the Kingdome to him) it was impossible for them so farre to alter their affections, as that they did not preferre danger before security. The severall opinions of this conspi­racy are so various, as that they may admit of doubt; but for my part, I rest assured, that this variety proceeded from the not knowing of true par­ticularities, and that through the inveloping of secrets, the common peo­ple have fashioned their story: whereupon that hath happened which will alwayes happen, that many true cases have no circumstances, which are not or false or very uncertaine.

Having tyed up all in a bundle, I will give you the opinion of Writers: King Henry when he was young, had let some words fall (perhaps out of inconsiderate vivacity of spirit, or else out of ambition to be thought a States-man) tending to this purpose; That Princes in consideration of their degree and expence had but small revenewes, and that the Clergie in regard of their calling and occasion, had too great incomes. To which speech Richard afterwards alluding, said; That if the Earle of Darby came to the Crowne, he would be no great favourer of the Clergy. Ha­ving now obtained it, and the memory remaining of what he had said, and the other had judged, the Clergy had some reason to suspect; since such like words as these were not let fall by chance; but at such time when as snares being laid for the Clergie, because of their wealth, there were di­vers who had given such particulars of their estates to the Parliament, as that the two Archbishops were forced to protest against any Act which should be made against Ecclesiasticall liberty or immunity: and though I beleeve that these suspitions were vaine (mens mindes changing by yeeres and experience, and he not having in all his reign shewed any such inclination) yet he who shares in a beleeved danger doth not wait the comming of it, but prevents it; which was the onely cause that made the Abbot of Westminster doe what he did. This man was religious by pro­fession, but by practice a Courtier; his learning and experience had won him reputation, especially with Richard, who tooke him along with him in his last journey into Ireland; being then firmely of opinion, that the King who had profest himselfe no friend to the Clergie, would for ever continue the like, he thought the best way to prevent this danger, would be by Henries death; and because the grounds of this his imagination were either true or likely, he suffered himselfe to be perswaded to a like­lihood of effecting his desires; wherein hee had not beene deceived, if fortune had not failed him. He considered that Henries preferment was [Page 50] occasioned rather out of hatred to Richard, then any love to him; that such effects change with the change of fortune: that the one being deposed, the other was no more so much desired, who was onely coveted to ex­clude the other: this being effected, that his first love and applause was turned into envie and hatred: that the people were fickle, greedy of what they have not, cloyed with what they have: that his neerest kin were his enemies; his brother, brother in law and cousin being censured in Par­liament: that usurpation is hatefull both to God and man; that a lawfull King was unlawfully deposed; the lawfull heires, contrary to reason dis­inherited: that he was favoured by the Nobility, as by the house of Per­cy for interest, by that of Yorke for feare: that the envy to him ward, and compassion towards Richard were Rams, able to beat downe whatsoever well built wall. All of them considerations of much weight, but coun­terpois'd by the Kings fortune, light beyond comparison. Hatred and trea­son are false ballances, wisedome is the onely just scale, which if the Ab­bot had used, he had saved his owne life with the life of Richard, and the lives of others, who drawne by a rash confidence, perished in the praeci­pice of a too bold and heady resolution; for God doth seldome suffer, ne­ver assist bad actions. The first care in this businesse was to finde persons fitly appropriated to the businesse; since of the welwillers thereunto, these were only usefull, when by birth or retinue were void of exception, faith­full: faith being then most to be relyed upon when most interessed, and interest being the chiefest causer of our affections. Not herewithall con­tented, he would have them oppositely affected with love and hopes to­wards Richard, with hatred and feares towards Henry; so as without more adoe these considerations pointed out unto him what choice he was to make. The Dukes of Exeter and Surrey were most neerely concerned in Richard, and under him their greatnesse was safe; which under Henry was doubtfull and supprest, though Exeter had married his sister, a thred too weakely spun to with-hold suspitions, which in what concerned the King­dome befell his brother in law: meere shadowes, indangering him and forcing upon him a necessity of impossible circumspection, for the preser­vation of the State as it now was, was the onely gaine which was to be aimed at. In the Duke of Aumerle were more weighty considerations; none at all for what concern'd his blood: he was in the like relation cou­sin to both, but it being an ordinary thing to repay unuseful kindred with disrespect, and with hatred such as bereave us of our good fortune, or are a crosse to us therein; by Richard he had beene remunerated, by Henry cut short of part of his honours and livelihood: but that, which of all o­ther his distastes he was most sensible of, was, that he could not suffer the being cut off from the Crowne by his younger brother the Earle of Cam­bridge, who had married Anne, to whom (when Edmund Earle of March should dye) the right to the Crowne did belong. Iohn Montaigne Earle of Salisbury, who had beene an abusive medler in the breach of the match betweene Henry and the daughter of Berry, had reason to presume him his irreconcileable enemy: Hugh Spencer Earle of Glocester, preferd by Richard, supprest by Henry, ally'd moreover to the house of Yorke, by his match with Constance the daughter of Aumerle, could not aspire to higher hopes. Iohn Bishop of Carleil, though with the height of cle­mencie [Page 51] freed from imprisonment at Saint Albons, was notwithstanding by his persevering in a preposterous zeale, fast linked to the love of the one, and hatred of the other: Magdalun, Chaplaine to King Richard, to boot with the common interests and obligations of the above-named, did naturally so much resemble Richard, as that there was no separating of him from his party. These, and divers others not named, were by the Abbot invited to a great feast; which being done, they fell to private conference, wherein having deplored the miseries of the time, the impri­sonment of a King to whom by nature, oath, and particular favours, they were obliged, as likewise their owne losse in his fall; they resolved to re­establish Richard by the death of Henry; presuming that the people would be herewithall contented: for by this meanes they should be freed from the warres wherewith they were threatned from France, Scotland and Wales. The Duke of Exceter propounded a Tilting at Christmas, wherein he with twenty Gentlemen, would chalenge the Earle of Salis­bury with as many more, to the which the King should bee invited, and there, together with his children slaine. A businesse likely to succeed, they being all armed, and under the pretence of pompe well attended, and he void of suspition unarmed, his ordinary guard being more for shew then service. This being done, they resolved forth-with to re-in­throne Richard wherein they expected no opposition: for of the house of Lancaster there remained none save brothers by another mother; of the which the Earle of Sommerset, the eldest, was distasted, and none of them comprehended within the Act of Parliament, touching the suc­cession of the crowne. Richards lawfull heires loved him well, and if any alteration should happen, it would not bee of much consi­deration, he being once re-established, and they so well provided, as that they might preserve themselves free from danger, till the arrivall of aid from France; to doubt whereof would bee sacriledge, the daughter of France being too pretious a pawne to be by the French abandoned.

This Proposition being approved, and all of them having vowed fide­lity, six of the chiefest among them, made six writings be drawne up, all of the same tenure, the which they all subscribed, and sealed every man kee­ping one of them; which was the break-necke of the businesse: for if any one of them should prove false, to what Tribunall could the others cite him? And if it should happen, that through treachery, or want of good take-heed, any one of the Copies should come to light, there was no way left to save themselves. Exceter having acquainted the King with the ap­pointed titling between him and Salisbury, besought him to honour them with his presence, and that he would be pleased to bee their Judge in case any difference should arise: The which hee graciously accepted of, and promised to doe. This meane while every man providing himselfe of what number of men he could get, under the pretence of magnificencie, they came at the time appointed to Oxford, where the King and Court was the next day expected. The Duke of Aumerle was onely wanting, hee having sent his men before, went to visit his father, who lived in a Countrey house, upon that road, and stayed dinner with him. For­tune would so have it, as that the old man spied a peece of paper in his sonnes bosome; and, not imagining what it might be, snatcht it from [Page 52] him. When he had seen the contents, the six seales, and among the rest, his sonnes for one, he grew so incensed, as rising immediately from the Table, hee gave order for his horses to bee made ready; reproaching his sonne for that having been false to Richard, he would now be a traytor to Henry; that he was witty in finding out inventions to undoe his father, but that now his father would undoe him; That he should remember how the last Parliament he was bound for him, body for body, and goods for goods; That therefore, since hee made so little account of his fathers head, his father would make as little account of his. This being said, hee went to Windsor. Aumerle considering, that the old man was not to bee with-drawne from his resolution, that the businesse was discovered, and his life in question: having none with whom to advise, resolved to prevent his father, hee got on horse-backe, and riding as fast as he could drive, he got to Windsor before him; where, as soone as he was come, he clapt to the doore behinde him, telling him that looked to the door, that so it behooved for the Kings service. Hee threw himselfe downe at the Kings feet, and craved his pardon. the King astonished at such a novelty, demanded his offence; which when hee understood (being somewhat a­mazed at the first) he promised him mercy, so as the businesse were as he had related it; but if otherwise, woe bee to him. This meane time the Duke of Yorke came to the Castle doore, and finding it shut, bade it bee opened. He entred, and without further circumstances, put the conspira­tors contract into the Kings hand; who finding thereby all to be true that Aumerle had said, put off his journey to Oxford, resolving to expect at Windsor the conspirators new resolutions; hee sent newes hereof by ex­presse Carriers, to Henry Pearcy, Earle of Northumberland, Lord high Constable of England; to Ralph Nevill, Earle of Westmerland, Lord Marshall, who had married Iane his sister by the fathers side, and to all his other friends, to the end that they might make what haste they could to the Court, and bring with them what forces they could raise. Exceter was one of the first that came to Oxford, more set upon the resolution ta­ken, then were the rest: but he could not so order affaires, but that by the extraordinary provision of Armes & Souldiers, his wife, the Kings sister, perceived that all this was done to undoe and kill her brother; whereat, in height of Agonie, she was much distracted between the love to her bro­ther, and affection to her husband: the ruine of one of them being cer­tain, & whether the one or the other equally to her grievous: whereat her husband (who loved her as much as he hated her brother) being moved, said unto her, that fortune might make both her and him equally content, one onely thing excepted, That their interests were in all things else com­mon and individuall, in this alone divers and particular. For as shee could not but rejoyce at her brothers preferment to the crowne: so hee could not but grieve to see his brother deposed, that now in the change of for­tune, which by the preparations that were made, she was towards: if shee found cause of affliction, she should doe well to consider, that he had just cause of joy: for if she, being Henry's sister, esteemed her greatnesse the more in respect of his, he being brother to Richard, had reason to hope the like in the Rise of Richard; without the which, (whilst her brother reigned) hee was like to live in perpetuall misery, and daily to expect [Page 53] death: That she was not to suffer in the fates of either of them. For if Henry should reigne, shee was to continue the same shee was, though having lost her husband; and if Richard reigned, both of them were to preserve their lives, honours, and fortunes, so that come what would come, she had cause to rejoyce, but not he: For that hee might not, through so many dangers, dye daily, it behoved him to expose himselfe to all dan­ger, that hee might once dye, or for ever be free of feare.

Hereupon giving her his last kisse, he left her weeping and went to Ox­ford, where all the rest were come saving only Aumerle, where having ex­pected him to the very last houre, his not appearing, the not preparing for the King, and the no newes thereof, were manifest signes that their plot was discovered; they had no hopes of pardon, having beene formerly condemned and pardon'd, so that in a desperate case desperate resolutions were to be taken: they endeavoured to doe that by open force, which they could not effect by treachery, and for their safeties sake, to use de­ceipt. They cloathed Magdalun with Princely roabes, who much re­sembling Richard, cozened the more ignorant. They gave forth that as­sisted by his Keepers, he had escaped prison, thereupon they assembled together 40000. men, the least part whereof came for good will, the most inconsiderable for hopes, and the most unusefull for feare: all of them consequently, changeable and inconstant: for infidelity produceth feare: incertitude hopes, and popular inclination, weaknesse and confusion: there was no counsell to be had, nor foundation to ground it upon, so unexpe­ctedly were they surprized. They resolved to seize upon the King at Windsor, but he hearing of their coming, had with some few horse, with­drawne himselfe from thence, so as not finding him there, they intended to pursue him to London, and so take him unproviding, which perchance was the best course they could have taken; but feare put a period there­unto, when wisedome was more dangerous then rash attempts. The King when he was come to London fortified himselfe there; the City furnish­ing him with souldiers, and he providing himselfe of sufficient guard: when he heard that they were coming, he came forth to meet them with 20000. men, and made his stand where they were to passe by, not diffi­dent in the small number of his men, nor affrighted at the multitude of the enemy. They, on the other side, mistrusting themselves, shun'd the en­counter, and went towards Reading, where the Queene was: making her beleeve that King Richard was at Pomfret with 100000. fighting men, and that Henry of Lancaster together with his children and friends, had shut himselfe up in the Tower, not daring to come forth; and the better to colour their false report, they threw down Henrie's armes, and took his Cognizances from such of the Queens servants as wore them, as if Richard did already rule. They made no further use of Magdaluns pageant, for fearing lest they should be discovered, they when they were at Reading, gave out that Richard was at Pomfret, and elsewhere, when they were elsewhere; for it is usuall with such as are upon the point of perishing, to make use of false rumours. When they left Reading, they went to Cicester; Surrey and Salisbury taking up their lodging in a small village; Exceter and Glocester theirs in another, leaving their army in the field. The Townes-men thereabouts, who were informed that things were o­therwise [Page 54] then they gave out, did about midnight beset the house wherein the former two were lodged; who withstood their fury for the space of fifteene houres. Exceter, who was advertised thereof, could not possibly succour them, for all his men through a sudden feare were fled away. A certaine Priest of Surreys side, set divers houses of that Village on fire; hoping thereby to divert them from their assault; which caused Exceters men to take their heeles, beleeving that Henry was come, and that it was he who had given battaile and fired the houses. The Townes-folkes, on the contrary, hereby doubly inraged, resolved to quench the fire with the blood of those that fought against them: so as unfortunate Surrey and Salisbury, forsaken by their friends, and taken by their enemies (likely by their many mortall wounds to live but a while) were beheaded, and their heads sent to London; twenty nine of their company, what Barons, what Gentlemen were taken prisoners, who being brought to Oxford, where the King was, had publique justice passed upon them. Glocester think­ing to escape, was taken prisoner in Wales, and beheaded at Bristow. Magdalun fled into Scotland, where he was taken and sent to London, where he died the death of a traytour. Exceter, who had oft times en­deavoured to get over into France, and was alwayes by contrary windes beaten backe; whilest he wandered up and downe unknowne, was taken as he was at supper in a friends house, brought into the late Duke of Glo­cesters hands, where his head was strucken off. Divine justice repaying him according to his deserts, in his territories whose death he had beene the causer of; the sufferings of his owne death were augmented by Ri­chards foreseene death, he being doubly the cause thereof, by being at first too forward, afterward too slow. In all other respects he was a man of praise-worthy conditions: but he stained his reputation in seconding his brothers humours, and in endeavouring to ruine his brother in law, he lost his life: infinite was the number of the rest that dyed; the high wayes were filled with men hang'd, and quarter'd, with heads set upon poles; a­mong which number did many innocent people suffer: who under pre­tence of rebellion, were for particular revenge by some about the King, put to death. The Abbot of Westminster understanding what misera­ble effects his counsell had taken: fled from the Monastery: but overtaken by a sudden Apoplexie, he escaped the halter, dying lesse unfortunately. The like happened to the Bishop of Carlile, who dyed of a violent fea­ver, thereby mocking his worser destiny, which had he lived a little lon­ger, he could not have escaped. Some will have it that he was againe ta­ken and condemned, but his punishment by the King remitted, which if it were true, proceeded either from Henries innate humanity, or else to shew unto the world, that they erred in thinking him averse to the Cler­gie: but the Bishop enjoyed not this favour long; for through the labour he had taken, he soone after dyed. If the Conspiratours had knowne that the safety of men in despaire consists in despairing of safety: they either would not have perished (yet that had beene a difficult affaire) or at least not so soone, and unrevenged: but wanting resolution in times of extre­mity, still hoping for safety; and temporizing when it was no longer time to doe so; bereaving them of courage which followed them, and those who were to follow them both of courage and time; they by their [Page 55] example taught such to flye away, who were already prepared for flight, and such to temporize as were ready to declare themselves. Innocent Ri­chard was ignorant of all these passages, reserved for the last Scene of this sad Tragedy. For Henry was resolved to see his end. He was carried from the Tower to a Castle in Kent, from thence to Pomfret; tost from post to pillar, to the end that the true cause of his death might not bee knowne. Three were the severall opinions of his death, and none of them in my opinion true, or like truth: The first, that when he understood of the conspiracie, and death of the conspirators, thinking that it would no longer availe him to keep him alive, hee voluntarily famisht himselfe to death. The second, that being served according to his custome, with choyce Cates, hee was not suffered to taste thereof; and that cold be­ing added to the rest of his sufferings, he died within the space of fifteen dayes. The third, that Henry sitting at the table, and complaining of his present condition, he should say, hee saw he had no friends, since his life and Richards being incompatible, there was none that would free him of this anxiety. Whereupon one Sir Peter Eston, accompanied by eight others, went straight wayes to Pomfret, where meeting with Ri­chards Sewer, he said unto him; That it was in vaine any longer to take assay of his meat, for he was not long to taste any; and that the Sewer ta­king this in another sense, waited at the Table, but did not his usuall ser­vice: at the which Richard being offended, when he understood that hee was willed so to doe by Eston, who was newly come from Court, hee grew so incensed, as that he cut him over the face with a knife, saying: The Divel take Henry of Lancaster, & thee too: at the which Peter, with the other eight, entring the roome, with Halberts in their hands, he threw the Table from him (beleeving that they came to kill him) and that flying fiercely upon one of them, hee wrested his weapon from him; with the which he slew foure of them: but being over-borne by the rest, hee went backwards toward the place where Eston was set in Richards chaire, al­most ready to swound, through the remorse of conscience: that there Es­ton with a great blow fell him to the ground: which when hee had done, he instantly cried out, that he had killed a Prince who had been his King two and twenty yeares: that he should live hereafter abhorred and poin­ted at by all men, as a traytor, and murtherer of a King. One Historian al­lowes Richard so much life after the receiving of this blow, as to suffer him say, that Edward the second his great-grand-father, was in like manner as he, deposed and killed: that his grand-father Edward the third, having by such meanes obtained and enjoyed the Crowne, hee being his successor, did beare the punishment, that the like would happen to such as should succeed Henry: and though his death (his owne demerits con­sidered) was just, yet was it not such as would justifie his murtherers. But I cannot see how the blow hee received from Eston, and the desire that Eston had to see him dead, could allow him so much time for dis­course. That he voluntarily starved himselfe to death, is not likely, hee loved his life too well, and rather then lose it, he chose to lose both liberty and kingdome: nor would knives have been wanting, had hee had any such resolution. And certainly Henry is much injured in the report that he should act that which is but fained of Tantalus: for of his owne nature [Page 56] he was no wayes wicked; and though it was a great fault to bereave his lawfull King both of Kingdome and life, yet seeing he had put on a resolu­tion of reigning, (Pandora's box, from which all mischiefe issued) he must or not be King, or make himselfe secure of his kingdome: the one was the sinne of ambition, which many are subject to; but the other (not to al­ledge other examples) would have been the Idea of the most unheard of cruelties that ever were committed. Respect unto himselfe inforced a riddance of him, but not in so cruell a manner: such an act had been able to alienate all other people from him: his vaine-glory in affecting the first seat among the damned, would have been more then diabolicall; neither is it likely that Eston slew him: for Henry needed not in so blameable an action, publickly at the Table, to begge the helpes of others. It may suffice that Richard did dye, and after what manner best pleased Henry; but no man knew how: otherwise in this case there would have been but one relation: and not able to free himselfe from the suspition of having caused him to bee put to death, hee could not finde any meanes whereby to bee the lesse hated for the doing of it, then the uncertainty thereof; which occasioned this diversity of opinions. Hee caused his corps to bee brought up to London bare-faced, and gave order that it should stop for some convenient time in divers publicke places (particu­larly in Pauls) to the end that it might be taken notice of. Hee caused his funerall to bee celebrated, at which hee himselfe, together with all his Court, and Magistracie of the Citie was present. This being done, hee sent the body to Langley, lest the sight of his Tombe in London might recall into mens memories, an action, which howsoever it was done, was unjust and inhumane: He was there privatly buried, none of any quality being present, save one Bishop and two Abbots.

Henry the fifth, sonne to this man, when he came to be King, caused his body to be brought to Westminster, and placed it the [...]e by the side of Anne his wife, amongst the other Kings. Some Scotch writers are of a fourth opinion: That as soone as Henry was crowned, an Hermit of reverend aspect presented himselfe before him, who admonished him to restore the Kingdome to whom of right it did belong, threatning the ru­ine of the house of Lancaster, if he would not doe it; and that Henry fear­ing if this novelty should be scattered abroad amongst the people, it might cause some revolt, made the Hermit privately be put to death. That Rich­ard having escaped prison by the connivency of those who were his Kee­pers, got into Ireland, and from thence to Scotland, where he placed him­selfe in service with a Lord of the family of Machdougell; and that after a while being knowne, he was brought to the Court, where he was with much civility received by Robert the third, and entertained as a King: but that weary of the world, he retired himselfe to the service of God, and being dead, was buried in the Dominicans Church, as the inscription up­on his Sepulchre did witnesse. But if this had beene true, the English writers would have had some little light thereof, some whispering or tra­dition of it would have beene among the common people: Scotland would have made some advantage thereby; France would not have beene quiet; Henry would not have demanded Richards widow for his Sonne, nor would Charles have married her into the house of Orleans: Richard [Page 57] would either have retired himselfe to France to his wife and father in law, or having a minde to become one of the Religious in Scotland, he would have procured by dispensation from Rome, a nullifying of his contract­ed though not consummated marriage. George Buchanan writes that the old Earle of Northumberland being fled into Scotland (as we shall here­after see) that he there found an English man who had falsly taken upon him the name of Richard the second: that he endevoured to get a sight of him, but that the other could by no meanes be perswaded thereunto; that if he had not been an Impostor, he would not have shunned the sight of one that knew him; and that the same man afterwards dying, was buried at Sterling in the Church of the Dominicans with the title of King of England.

Henry had great good fortune so happily to acquit himself of this con­spiracy, otherwise in likelihood hee might have beene oppressed by evills which on three sides hung over him: for during all his life his fortune was through dangers to arrive at happinesse, and at safety by the Rockes of precipice. France had made great preparations of man and shipping to succour Richard, with intention to come for England; relying upon his partakers, upon the envy contracted by the new King, and upon the inconstancy of popular affection; their former hatred was changed into compassion. They were all in Picardy under the command of Count St. Paul ready to take shipping, when together with advertisement of the conspiracy, came newes of the unhappy successe thereof, which amazed them all. To proceed farther under colour of revenge, which brought along with it suspicion of invasion, had now beene rashnesse; since they were dead in whom they did most affie. Greater preparations were to be made for the invasion of England, these not being sufficient without some correspondency from within the Land. And as the home conspi­racy gave the last blow to Richards life, so did the forraigne preparations, confirme Henry in that resolution; which he would not have willingly taken without these sharpe provocations, so as that which was intended for his liberty caused his death. The forces in France were all disbanded; Charles upon good advice desired onely the restitution of his daugh­ter; a just request and not to be had but by civill meanes: the which hee obtained, sending over Embassadours to that purpose, who were graci­ously received; but the King referred his answer to certain commissioners who were to go to Callis to treat together with this, of other affairs which neerely concerned both the Crownes. Charles sent thither the Duke of Bourbon, and Henry, Edward Duke of Aumerle, who by the late death of his father, did now succeed in the title and inheritance of the Duke of Yorke, together with whom hee sent Henry Earle of Northumberland. Bourbon required the restitution of the Queene, which they denyed not, but desired that by the approbation of France, she might yet remaine in England, since by birth and yeares she was a fit match for the Prince of Wales, as wife for whom they did desire her. But Charles not willing to consent to this (having conceived an opinion that the aliance with England would prove unfortunate for France) a perpetuall peace was propounded by Yorke. This being likewise found a difficult businesse (France being resolved not to quit what it was possest of) the English

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[Page 60] Edmund, endevoured to bridle his insolency: The battell was on both sides manfully fought; Glendor had two advantages, the number of men, and his being their Captaine: By these meanes hee proved victor, obedi­ence and good order having wonne him the Lawrell. The Herefordshire men, on the other side, fewer in number, and led by the Earle onely, in re­gard unto his quality obeyed; many, and sometimes none, doing what they listed; so as distracted, and not resolved what to do, they made good the field till night; rather out of an obstinate resolution, then any reason or order. At last they yeelded, but fled not: for none did pursue them. Glen­dor was contented that he had overcome: for finding himselfe in an ene­mies Countrey, the night being darke, many of his men slaine, and the rest or weary or wounded, hee forbare to pursue the victory. Two thou­sand were left dead in the field; the Earle was taken prisoner, and kept in the bottome of a Tower, no respect being had to his person, neither did the King (though by many much importuned) indevour his liberty: for he thought this his imprisonment to bee one of the happiest things that e­ver befell him.

Let me here bee permitted to relate a Story of the Welsh Women, the like to which I have not met withall in any other history. They ran like so many Bacchanals to the place of battell, they cut off the noses and privities from as many as there they found dead, they put the privie mem­bers which they had cut off, into the mouthes of the dead, with the te­sticles hanging out, and the noses into their posteriors; nor would they suffer their bodies to be taken away without ransome. An action where­in eagernesse, dishonesty, cruelty, and avarice were equally seene, and were it to bee disputed which of these foure were most abusive, whosoever should give his opinion in favour of any of them, might lawfully feare the being thought unjust, each of them having arguments to plead for the priority of mischiefe; but if I were to be Judge herein, I should beleeve, that avarice were not to bee pleaded: For though it bee a vice naturall to that Sex, yet in what belongs to their houshold government, it may bee accounted a vertue. I should absolve them of cruelty, as not an absolute cause, but an effect of the fiercenesse of their nature. And I would free them from dishonesty, because no dishonesty being without delight, this action was thereof incapable: so as fiercenesse would win the plea, were it not that the inveterate hatred which they bare unto the English, had been the onely thing which made them fierce, dishonest, avaritious and cruell. Glendor kept on his course, sacking and spoyling the confines. These two victories had made him bee esteemed by his owne men, and feared by his enemies: there was none, (the King being busied about more weighty affaires) who withstood him: but good fortune is like the flowing of the Sea, which ebbes againe: for a full sea is alwayes followed by an ebbe.

The Scots had at this very time taken their best advantage of the altera­tions in England: they readily made use thereof, and Northumberland was the place wherein they laid their first Scene. The truce continued of force betweene the two kingdomes; and because warre was not publickly proclaimed, the truce was not esteemed broken: for disorderly incursions are pardoned between nations at continuall enmity. Nor was King Ro­bert [Page 61] to be blamed herein, unlesse it were for conniving. The Scots ha­ving ransacked the countrey, betooke themselves to doe mischiefe at sea, and to endammage the fishing businesse. But the English were not wan­ting unto themselves: for having sacked the Ilands of the Orcades, they met with the enemies Fleet, who under the command of Robert Logon, went to encounter them; in fight they tooke many of them: An action of small consequence, and onely worthy of the name of Reprisall; but oc­casions of open hostility ensuing hereupon, Henry was unwillingly enfor­ced to undertake a warre. The King of Scotland had contracted a match between the daughter of George Dumbar, Earle of the Marches, and Prince David his eldest sonne, the Earle having readily paid in a great summe of money by the way of portion: Archibald Earle Douglas, a high spirited man, not able to endure this addition of power in any one, much lesse in Dumbar, who was of himselfe great, and greatly follow'd, wrought so by the favour of the Duke, the Governour of the Kingdome, that this con­tract was declared void, as agreed upon without the Councels knowledge; and that his daughter Mary for a greater summe of money was received in the others place: and that this marriage might be past all annulling, hee caused it speedily to bee effected, and authorised by all the accustomed Church rites. The Earle of the Marches was very sensible of this affront, and resolving upon revenge, would not hasten it, till hee might make it justifiable to all the world. Hee required the repaiment of his monyes; but the King paying him with delayes, intending indeed never to pay him, he seemed to beleeve the contrary, till such time as every one might perceive how he was abused. Hereupon threatning revenge, he withdrew himselfe, and his whole family into England, where hee was by the Earle of Northumberland received: having gathered some forces toge­ther, he entred Scotland, and did there some mischiefe, which though not sufficient wholly to repaire, was notwithstanding enough to content him for the first bout. King Robert having degraded him, and confiscated all he had, sent a Herauld to denounce unto Henry, that it was contrary to the tenure of Truce, to receive such as were Traytors and Rebels to his Crowne, and to favour and countenance them: that if he would have the truce continue he should deliver Dumbar up into his hands, or banish him his dominions. To the which King Henry (were it either that hee esteemed it an unworthy thing to revoke the protection hee had given him, or that he was so generally beloved as to have resolved the contrary, would have beene to little purpose) answered, That he was sorry he could not satisfie the King of Scotland; for that hee could not in honour recall the safe conduct which hee had by his great Seale granted unto Dumbar. That for what concerned Truce or Warre, hee left the choyce to him: for, for his part hee was ready to continue the one if it pleased him; and if it pleased him not they were both of them equally indifferent to him. The Herald had no sooner brought backe this answer, but warre was proclaimed: And Henry willing rather to incounter it abroad, then meet with it at home, past suddenly into Scotland: hee burnt and ruin'd what ere he met withall. He spared no places but such as were holy, and such as had harboured his father the Duke of Lancaster, when hee with­drew himselfe into that Kingdom. A gratitude so well interpreted by the [Page 62] Scotch Writers, as that Hector Boëtius saith, That never did enemy make more friendly warre then did he. Hee came to Edinburgh, and tooke it: he laid siege to the Castle, which was defended by Prince David and his father-in-law Earle Douglas. By the condition of these two, the impor­tance of the place may be conjectured: for Edinburgh was not to be held but by those who were masters of that Fort; whole Scotland depended upon this siege. It was now September, and in those Northerne parts Winters fore-runners were already felt. The Duke of Albany was not farre off, desiring that people might thinke he would doe what he was re­solved not to doe. His designes (which were the usurpation of the King­dome) suffered him not to bee charitable to his countrey, to performe the duty of his charge, nor to have respect unto his reputation. Hee would willingly have seen the Castle battered downe, and Prince David (who was his prime and chiefest obstacle) buried in the ruines thereof. Not­withstanding his inward malice, it behoved him to make shew of good intentions: he by a Herald sent word to King Henry, that if hee would ex­pect him but six dayes, he would give him battell; with resolution ei­ther to make him raise the siege, or dye in the enterprise: hee could not have sent a more welcome message to the King: for the season of the yeare, and his want of victuals would not permit him to tarry there long. He rewarded the Herald, and bade him assure the Duke that he would ex­pect him, and fight with him. Six and sixteene dayes passed, and yet no governour appeared: so as the flux in the Camp, joyned to so many other incommodities, forced the King to raise the sige, and returne home: Hee brought back with him all his military affaires, as likewise such Comman­ders as were wont to keep upon the Frontiers; which gave the Scots meanes, in some sort, to repaire themselves: they made two incursions without opposition, into the two confining Countries of Northumber­land and Banborough-shire; for the adverse party arrived late after they were retired: encouraged by their happy succcesse, they adventured upon the third on-set, being led by Patricke Heborne, a gentleman more adven­trous then was requisite: for whereas hee was able to have assembled a great number of men, he (having more regard to the booty then danger) made onely choyce of the best: wherewithall he entred Northumberland and by prey and prisoners inriched himselfe and them: but in their re­turne, through heedlesnesse caused by too much confidence in them­selves, or contempt of the enemy, being pursued by the Earle of Nor­thumberland, they were routed at Nesbyt, where the greatest part of them were slaine, though not without revenge: for they fought to their last gaspe valiantly, as is usuall to that warlike Nation. Heborne, more couragious now then cautious before (having done all that belonged to a discreet Commander) thrust himselfe into the thickest of the battell, where manfully fighting he lost his life: together with him were slaine the chiefest of Loughdeane, besides many Gentlemen and Knights that were taken prisoners, but as this defeat did rather irritate then quell the Scots, so Fortune which had smiled upon them in their first two expedi­tions, turned her backe upon them in the third, and quite abandoned them in the fourth: perhaps she was offended they should so often make tryall of her. The old Archibald Earle Douglasse was dead, the first occasioner [Page 53] of this warre: he left behinde him a sonne which succeeded him in name and title, but surpassed him in worth and vertue. This man resolved up­on publicke revenge, for the publicke lossewhich had beene suffered. He raised an Army of 20000. fighting men: The governour assented thereunto, and gave him for his associates, his owne sonne the Earle of Fife, the Earle of Angus, Murrey, and Atholl, together with many Ba­rons and Gentlemen of the chiefe Nobility of Scotland. They came in­to Northumberland with flying colours, where not finding forces able to resist them, they returned laden with prey, when about Hamilton they might see the Lord Percy issue out from forth a Valley: he who for his valour and forwardnesse was by them called Hot-spur. He had with him Dumbar the enemy of the Douglasses, all the Gentry of Northumber­land, and 8000. men, what horse, what foote, and though it cannot bee denyed but that the hatred was great which was betweene these two warlike Nations, yet who will marke it well, may see that their vying for mastery was the cause of all the mischiefe which was by either of them given or received, rather then hatred or avarice. Percy was famous for what hee had already done, and now more then ever desirous of glory. Douglasse was big with fame, and that he might bring it to light, was de­sirous to adde thereunto the fame of his enemy: these two respects were the whetstone whereon the valour of both parties was sharpned. Exhor­tations and warlike noises were needlesse, every man was by himselfe encouraged, and ready for what he had to doe, each side equally thir­sting for the others bloud. The conflict endured a long time with like affect, as is seene in a sheete of corne, which when driven with vio­lent windes, bends now on the one side, and then on the other alternate­ly, till at last Fortune taking stand under Saint George his Crosse, thought it not sacriledge to beare to ground that of Saint Andrew. Dowglasse (who in the battell had lost an eye) was taken prisoner; with him Fife, Murrey, Angus, Atholl and five hundred more: the greatest part of the Gentry of Scotland dyed manfully fighting; of which number were twenty seven Knights, and of common souldiers (as the English writers say, for the others say nothing herein) 10000. Percie, as soone as he had made the prisoners safe in sundry forts, passed forward in Loughdeane, and the Marches of Scotland, making use of the present occasion, as ha­ving slaine and tane prisoners all that were to defend those parts: which when hee had sacked and utterly ruinated, hee besieged Coclaven, a place neither to bee long kept, nor soone lost; it was agreed upon that it should be surrendred, if not succoured within three months. The Governour was advised not to succour it, for that the losse of it would be of lesse moment then the hazarding of a second battell. The defeat at Ha­milton had so allayed the courage of the Gentry, as that not being confi­dent of any good intention in the Governour, they could not bee perswa­ded to a new conflict: but hee (his mischievous designes not being now the thing in question, but the honour of the Kingdome, on the preserva­tion whereof much of his hidden hopes depended) swore hee would suc­cour it, though not seconded by any; but the first two months being past, and nothing done, the castle was freed the third, for which no thanks was due to him: for Percy was forced to raise the siege, that hee might follow the King in his warres in Wales.

[Page 64] Whilst England was thus beset on both sides, new troubles arose unto her out of France, which though at first sight of no consideration, were yet the occasion of incensing mens mindes, and of the more easie breach of truce. The Duke of Orleans, brother to King Charles, a Prince of an unquiet spirit, borne to be the ruine of himselfe and Kingdome, tooke a fancie, out of a meere capriciousnesse, to send a letter to King Henry by a Herald, the contents whereof were to this purpose: That having conside­red how the rust of idlenesse in youth, had been the losse of many Prin­ces sprung from Royall bloud, he was resolved to shake it off, and to win renowne and honour by the way of Armes: to effect the which, he could think of no readier means, then that they two should meet at a certain place to be by them agreed upon, where each of them accompanied by a hun­dred Gentlemen of name & valour, and void of blemish, they might make triall of themselves, till the one of them should yeeld: and that such pri­soners as should be taken, should be liable to ransome, and their ransomes to be paid to such as tooke them. That to this purpose he went with his hundred to Angolesme, and that if hee would come with his hundred to Burdeaux, they might chuse some neighbouring place for the combat. The Duke had been the Kings great friend whilest he was in France, inso­much as in signe of their more reall friendship, they sealed a writing be­tween them wherein they bound themselves to the defence of one ano­ther, against all the world, except some whom the Duke excepted; but this chalenge being directly opposite thereunto, and Henry having not been long in his kingdome, and by reason of his affaires, free from that idlenesse which the other desired to shun, he answered, that he would ne­ver have beleeved, that the letter which was delivered him by his He­rald, had been directed to him, had not the circumstances assured him that it was. That the publick truce between the two Kingdomes, and the pri­vate confederacie between them two, ought to have disswaded him from making such a request: but that since he was pleased so to resolve, hee for for his part was likewise resolved to breake their former confederacie: That Kings ought to bee chalenged by Kings, not by inferiours: That Kings ought not to use their weapons for vain-glory, but for the glory of God, and good of Christianity, and when by their state necessitated there­unto: That hee would come to Burdeaux with as many men as hee plea­sed when it might ought availe him: And that in such a case occasions would not bee wanting to the Duke to finde him out, nor should will be wanting in him to be found out by him. To this answer the Duke by new letters replyed, that he avouched the writing of the former let­ters to be to him, & to him onely, and that if he did not therein give him the title which now he assumed, 'twas because he did not approve thereof, that hee would have had due respect to their confederacy, if it had not first been violated by him, that he would never have made any confedera­cy with him, if he had thought he would have so behaved himselfe to­wards King Richard, God knowes how, and by whom slaine: for what concerned his present dignity that God never gave it him, but did onely permit it in him; and that God did oftentimes suffer Princes to reigne for their greater confusion: so as the comparison he made between them two, was to no purpose; since his reputation was void of blemish, as was not [Page 65] the Kings: that for the duty and office of a King, hee could not say better and doe worse: that Queen Isabel his Neece might serve to prove this, who was sent backe into France, her husband being slaine, her jonyture denied, the goods shee brought with her into England, deteined: That hee would maintaine all this to bee true in single combat hand to hand, to the end, that (as hee had said) the deaths of so many might bee spared: that hee thanked him for having more charity to the blood of France, then hee had to his owne Lord and King. This reply was too sharpe, not to bee answered. The King wrote backe: That having com­municated his designes to him, when hee parted from France, which he (the Duke) did then approve of, and promised his assistance, hee wondred why he should now blame them, as if they were new unto him: that if by his words of God knowes how, and by whom King Richard was slaine, hee did believe that his death was occasioned by any command or approba­tion of his, he did believe falsly; and that he would make this good unto him body to body. Hee did not deny, but that in the confederacie made between them, the King of France, and Isabel, Queen of England, were on his side excepted; but that he (the Duke) could not likewise deny, that though the Duke of Burgondy was by name excepted, yet that in private he told him, he held him as not excepted, for the confederacie was onely grounded upon the hatred he bare unto him, so as the objection which hee made against him (the King) was the same which the Duke, from the very beginning was maliciously guilty of. For that part of his reply, where he said, that He would never have m [...]de any confederacie with him, if he had thought hee would have behaved himselfe so to King Richard; why then did he, after Richards death, send a Gentleman to him, to assure him of the continuation of his friendship, and to tell him, that next the King his brother, he desired to serve no Prince alive more then him. That God had permitted him, but not promoted him to reigne, hee did not beleeve it; yet he confessed, that Gods abounding favours to him, proceeded onely from grace and mercie, the which was able to effect more then all the art and malice of the Divell, (by these words hee alluded to what was com­monly beleeved, that the Duke, and Valentia his wife, had bewitched King Charles, and plotced the death of his children, to the end that they might come to the Crown) that if he had read the Articles of agreement, hee would there have found, that England was not obliged to make any joynture: that he had not onely restored unto her what ever she brought with her, but presented her to boot: that the Acquittance sealed in Coun­cell, he himselfe being present, might convince him of his falshood: so as what he said in this point, was not for that he did not know the contra­ry, but that being of himselfe false and wicked, to speake truth was con­trary to his nature: that hee did not deny his desire of sparing to shed the bloud of France, as it well became a King to bee sparing of his subjects bloud: for such (his just claime considered) were the French to him; that where he said, He had more respect to the bloud of France then the life of Ri­chard, hee lied; and that it were to bee wisht, hee had not done worse to the King his brother: for what remained that hee would passe the sea, when it might conduce to the honour of God, his owne good, and the good of his kindome, to answer him in what manner hee should chuse. [Page 66] This defiance was accompanied by another from Valerian of Luxen­burgh, Count Saint Paul, who not calling him King, but Duke of Lanca­ster, denounced to him, That his friendship and affinity to King Richard, (for he had married Magd [...]len Holland, sister by the mothers side to Ri­chard) and Henry's being notoriously guilty of his death, obliged him to doe him all the evill and mischiefe which by the forces of himselfe and subjects he was able. But the King made him no answer, as one he made no account of. In the Duke of Orleans his businesse, nothing passed fur­ther then the defiances by writing: but the Count St. Paul began to take his revenge to little purpose, making triviall attempts most harmfull to himselfe: for beleeving that the new Duke of Yorke was causer of Ri­chards death (the conspiracie at Oxford being by his heedlesnesse disco­vered) hee caused his Statue to bee made, and giving it in charge unto some of his men of warre, he made it to be hung up by the heeles upon a gallowes, which for that purpose was carried by night neere to Callais walles, the which at the opening of the gates being seen, did so exasperate the Garrison of the Towne, that the Count and his territories fared not the better for it: all his other attempts after this, had ill successe, as wee shall hereafter see more at large.

This mean while the King of France being advertised of King Henry's preparations against Wales, he set himself to succour Glendor, judging that it might redound to his advantage, to annoy England under anothers pre­text, and to make it pine away by nourishing the feaver of an intestine war. To this effect he caused many Ships to be put in good equipage in Brest, a haven in Bretaigne, and put therein two thousand fighting men, under the command of Iames of Burbon, Count of March, who putting to Sea with his two brothers, Lewis and Iohn, found the winds so contrary to his passage into Wales, as that he was forced to anchor at Plimmouth in Devonshire, where landing his people by night, hee burnt and sacked all the neighbouring villages, not sparing the Abodes nor Boats of poore Fisher-men. But herein Fortune smiled upon him but a while: for the confining people gathering together at the firing of the Beacons, and newes being brought him that the violence of Winde and Sea had split twelve of the best Ships of his Fleet, indangering all the rest: Hee, with difficulty, did re-imbarke himselfe, and with much adoe got to Saint Ma­loes, having runne divers times danger of being swallowed up by Sea.

This ill successe did no waies asswage the French mens heat, for as­sembling together a fleet of eighty ships, under the command of Marshall Moemerancy, and the Generall of the Crosse-bow-men, wherein they imbarked 12000. fighting men, they came to Milford haven, in Pem­brokeshire, where finding Pembroke Castle strong and well defended, they sat downe before Erfordnuest, which being likewise secured by the Earle of Arundell; they passed forward to Denbigh, doing all those out-rages as they went by fire and sword, as are usually done in an ene­mies Countrey; there they found Glendor, who staied expecting them with ten thousand of his owne men: thus met together, they travailed toward Worster, but not having time to try the towne, by reason of the Kings approach, they fired the suburbs, and retyred into Wales, fortifying themselves upon the hanging of a hill, betwixt the which and the oppo­site [Page 67] hill (where the King had pitched himselfe) there was a Valley dis­advantagious for those who should first passe over it; they tarried eight daies in sight of one another, both sides resolute not to assaile, and though daily divers skirmishes were made, yet were they not of much impor­tance, some of both sides being slaine; amongst which the bastard of Burbone the Marshalls brother was one. The King this meane while had stopped the passage of their victualls, thereby inforcing them either to passe the Valley and fight, or else to retire: the latter being thought the better course, they raised their campe at midnight, marching through Woods, and over Mountaines, still pursued by the King; but this pur­sute lasted but a while, for the King having lost certaine provision of vi­ctualls, which the enemy well acquainted with the waies, had intercep­ted, was brought himselfe to the like danger of suffering for lacke of vi­ctualls, and winter now comming on, hee quitted the enterprise for that time, resolving to reassume it in the spring, being hereunto inforced, through Glendors daring, and the molestations of the French: but the French weary of the Countrey; and more weary of a warre wherein no­thing of advantage was to be had, withdrew themselves to Brittanny, not intending to returne. The Count St. Pauls attempts had no better suc­cesse, who willing to act his threats, had gathered together in Abeville be­tweene voluntiers and men in pay 1600. fighting men; from whence hee went to Normandy, and imbarked himselfe at Arflore, intending to set upon the Ile of Wight, upon the coast whereof he was sooner then hee imagined, being favoured by the windes, which assisted him in his lan­ding. The Ilanders, who expected not so sudden a surprise, retired them­selves together with the best things they had from the more open places to places of more defence; and if they suffered some losse, twas nothing in respect of what the Count intended; for England being night at hand, succours in few houres to be had; the parts thereof strong, and not to bee won but by length of time, he having but a small number of men, the inhabitants once met together stronger then he, he lost all hope of victory or booty. This Island was by the Romans called Vecta: It is seated in the South of England, so neere to Hampshire, that from Hurst, the chiefe Castle thereof, seated on the outmost part of a narrow ridge of land, which thrusts it selfe forth into the sea, the distance is but two miles. It is rich in pasture and graine, abounding in birds, particularly in A description of the Isle of Wight. Partridge and Phesant, full of Hares and Connies; it yeeldeth great store of Woole of the third best sort of England; it is twenty miles in length, in bredth where broadest twelve; so well inhabited as that there is there­in thirty sixe townes, boroughes and villages, it hath divers strong Ca­stles seated in the most appropriate places for the defence thereof; it ar­meth 4000. men exercised by their Captains: from Hampshire in time of need 3000 men are assigned unto it, and from Wiltshire 2000. but with­out their assistance it was able to defend it selfe against so few enemies: when posts flew up and downe with newes of the Counts landing, those who were nearest unto him thought it best to entertaine him with trea­ties, as well that he might forbeare doing mischiefe, as likewise that be­ing allured by hopes and gaine, hee might not prepare to be gone; they sent unto him a well spoken and well advised Priest, who made divers [Page 68] propositions to him; but being advertised of the strength of the Island, and of what danger hung over him, hee reimbarked himselfe contrary to the good will of the adventurers, who had laid out much upon vaine hopes, and had never any reparation made them, though they expected satisfaction from the Generall. All sides were so heated with these com­motions, as that warre was already kindled in Guascony, not now con­tented with inrodes, they betooke themselves to more evident and reall injuries; but Fortune having favoured the English in these last expediti­ons on this side the sea, would now be gracious to the French in the two next on the other side the sea. The one made by Count Claremont, sonne to the Duke of Burbone, the other by the Constable Albert, both which strove who should most indamage the Dutchy. The first accompanied by Count Chastearebone sonne to the Count de Fois, reduced three strong Castles to the obedience of King Charles, St. Peter, St. Mary, and Cha­steaunense. The second incensed at the damages done by the Garison which lay at Carlefine (which had forced contribution upon all the neighbouring places) sate downe before the towne, accompanied by Arpadan, a Gentleman of note, and much followed in those parts; after sixe weekes siege the Garison dispairing of succour, yeelded themselves, their goods being safe, and the townsmen redeeming their goods with money.

But these external adventures merit not the being recounted, save as appa­rent 1403 intermediums of the tragicall acts which were internally done; men who do good turns, use to measure merit by a common measure which agrees ill with the measure of Princes. For subjects are born to serve their Princes, & are bound to their service, which they are not to other men; so as private men are more obliged by good turnes then Princes, not but that Princes ought to reward worth in those that serve them; but if this bemade in them a coactive duty, vertue will not be its owne end in subjects, & will eclips the splendor of liberality, and gratitude in Princes, and not being able to satisfie every one with current money (their estates how rich so­ever not able to suply them) they must reward some with the Alchymy of honour, a sort of money coined for the chiefest and most noble, a­mongst whom it is oftenest dispersed. Tacitus brings in Armenius laugh­ing at his brother Flavius, who rather desired to bee a private souldier amongst the Romans, then a Prince in Germany: and that having in those warres lost an eye, and had his face disfigured, he termed the in­crease of his pay, and certaine other little gifts which children would dis­prize, a reward. But Armenius did not well understand this mystery; for take away the opinion of honour (which of the two principall co­lumes which sustaine civill life, is the second) who will expose himselfe to danger, who will defend his Country, if to die for it be not esteemed glorious? The two Percies both brothers, the one Earle of Northumber­land, the other of Worster, together with Henry, sonne to the former, fell into this error, they measured their service done to the King accor­ding to the common measure, so as if the mischief which insued, was not answerable to the honour of their familie, and their owne particular worths, it was notwithstanding most answerable to their ill advised reso­lutions. In the two battels at Hamelton and Nesbit (as hath beene [Page 69] formerly said) they had taken some of the chiefe Nobility of Scotland; the which being demanded by the King (who would have them in his power) and by them denied, they thought to satisfie him by sending unto him Mordachy Earle of Fife, the chiefest of them, sonne to the Duke of Albeny, alledging that this man together with the other prisoners, did of right belong to them, as a prey wonne by the hazard of their persons, and effusion of their bloud, so as the King had no pretence unto them. Just reasons if the Prince were not to share in the booty, Artillery, mu­nition, or victualls, prisoners of quality, or otherwise redonable, doe properly belong to them, not so much in respect of ransome, as to facili­tate, or secure the victory, by peace, exchange, and other contingencies which times and occasions, in the manifold interests of States doe pro­duce. I speake not of the imprisonment of the two Kings of France, of Iohn in England, and Francis the first in Spaine. The ransome of the two brothers sonnes to Charles of Blois, were reserved for Richard the second; and though it were afterwards by act of Parliament granted to Vere, Duke of Ireland, it was not done to prejudicate the right we speake of, but to the end that by his being absent from the court, the King might the better governe himselfe. And for what concernes prisoners of lesser condition yet re-donable, the example of the victory at Lepanto, which happened in our fathers times, may suffice; in the which the confederates divided the Turkish prisoners, and made them tug at one Oare in their fleet. The King persisting in his resolution of having them, they thought to make him desist therein, by demanding of him things of greater consequence.

The Earle of Worster, a wicked and turbulent man, was hee who did forward this resolution, an advice worst to the adviser, and mortall to those who did embrace it. The King was then at Windsor, whither the Earle of Worster being come, hee represented unto him the miserable im­prisonment of Edmund Earle of Marsh, their kinsman, kept in fetters by Glendor, and fallen into this misfortune for doing service unto his Majesty and the State. He desired him to be the means of his freedome, either by ransome or otherwise: the King finding whither this request tended, after having a-while bethought himselfe, made answer, that the Earle of Marsh was not taken prisoner in his service, but by his owne consent, as not wil­ling to bee inforced to professe himselfe an enemy to Glendor; and this answer he willed to be published to the terror of all such as had any incli­nation to him-ward. Worster being returned, and having acquainted his brother & nephew with what had past; the Nephew would not endure it, who being a violent young man, did wrongfully exaggerate the injustice, saying: That Henry not contented to bereave Edmund of the Kingdome, did now deny him that succour which his service done unto him, did chalenge: That if he should have ransomed him, it should not be done by his owne moneyes, but by the inheritance which he usurped from Ed­mund; and that in stead of praise, through too much ingratitude, he loaded him with undeserved calumnies: wherein hee said truth; for Edmunds wit was not proper for such inventions; and if it had been true, Glendor would not have treated him as he did. But the King who had by evill meanes usurped the State from him, could not by good meanes maintaine it; not onely the losse of his liberty, but the losse of his life would have re-

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[Page 72] Lord Percy who came with intention to win the City, failing in his inten­tions, and the aids hee expected not appearing, resolved to give battell of himselfe, incouraged in that his souldiers were resolved to dye for their liberty, and for the good of the Kingdome, governed (as he gave out) by a Tyrant. He sent the forenamed writing to the King by two Squires, the which acquainted him with the reasons of his revolt, and did likewise denounce the battell. The King was there only named Duke of Lancaster, it was written, subcrib'd, and seal'd by the names, hands, and seales of Henry Percy Earle of Northumberland, Lord high Constable of Eng­land, Lord Warden of the West Marches, of Henry Percy Warden of the East Marches, and of Thomas Percy Earle of Woster. The contents there­of was, that having sworne at his returne from France, that he did pre­tend to nothing but the inheritance due unto him by his father, and wife, and that he would suffer the King peacefully to enjoy his Crowne, he had done otherwise; for after having through famine, thirst, and could, cau­sed King Richards death, hee had usurped the Kingdome, which did of right belong to Edmond Mortimer, the lawfull heire; causing the Burges­ses of Parliament to bee chosen contrary to the forme of Law, and privi­ledge of the subject, so to suborn votes for his own advantage; that he had denied to ransome Mortimer, who being by them set at liberty, hee had proclaimed them traytors; that therefore they did defie him as a perjured and false man, as an usurper of the crowne which did properly appertaine to the true heire: and together with him they defied all his complices, and such as sided with him, as traytors, acd destroyers of the State. If true faults objected but in jest, doe sting, much more did these doe so, accom­panied with such upbraidings and threats.

But the King, not woonted to discompose himselfe, when hee had read the letter, said merrily to the messengers, that his sword should answer that scandalous writing, and that he was confident, God would assist his just quarrell against such forsworne disloyall traytors as were the Percies. But his moderation in these occurrances, is worthy a particular observati­on: for lacking neither generosity nor courage (if his usurpation and in­justice did not bereave him thernof, which did not appeare) hee received all these injuries not onely untransported, but with a setled judgement, weighed that as to hazard his estate, life and honour, upon the fortune of one day, would be an act of rashnesse: if he could avoid it, so to preferre his safetie before their offences, would bee a point of wisedome. For that injuries were passions of the minde, which might breathe away in a standing fortune; but the ruinous effects of a lost battell, were irrepairable in a falling fortune: so as cashiering all punctualities, not caring what o­thers would say of him, he resolved to see whether he could in some sort fairly accommodate this businesse, rather then trust to the inconstancy of fortune; which was not to be tried till the last push. And that in such a case he would shew that manlihood which men hasty and void of judge­ment might now tax in him. He appeared the next day, and ordering his troopes as the others did, he sent the Abbot of Shrewesbury unto them, accompanied with one of the officers of his privie Seale, with an offer of pardon, if they would yeeld to reasonable conditions. The Lord Percie, though naturally violent, examining the businesse in the same sort as the [Page 73] King had done, accepted the proposition. Hee sent unto him his Uncle, the Earle of Worster, to require of him an effectuall reformation of those things which had caused them take Armes. But the Earle (though ful­ly satisfied by the King in all his demands, and in a more submisse sort then did become his degree) made a cleane contrary relation to his Ne­phew: envie and confidence (for he judged the Kings humility to be co­wardize and feare) leading him by meanes of this deadly lye, to his fatall end. The young Percie thinking himselfe under-valued, caused the signe of battell immediately to be given by sound of Trumpet: the two Ar­mies were about fourty thousand fighting men, the rebels Vantguard was led by the Scots, who after a great showre of Darts, which slew many of both sides, advanced themselves against the Vantguard Royall, which ri­gorously withstood the first shocke; but the Welshmen comming at the same time to the rebels assistance, the Kings Vantguard began to give ground, and had been routed, if the King with his battalion had not put forwards. Young Percie aspiring after victory, advanced his likewise, having formerly agreed with Douglas to kill the King, in whose death did consist the victory, and end of the warre. Dumbar perceived their ends by their violent comming on; and with much adoe, got the King to with-draw himselfe to another place; which if he had not done, hee had run apparant danger: for the violence of the bickering was all made upon the Standard Royall, the which was beaten downe, and Sir Walter Blunt, who had the charge thereof, slaine; together with as many more as did defend it. Amongst which (according to Walsingham and Hollenshead) the Earle of Stafford, made that very day Lord high Constable, was one; though Halle reckons him amongst the rebels. The King who (as hath been said) was gone elsewhere, whilst fighting and commanding, he performed the office both of a Captaine and stout Souldier, was by Dou­glas, who sought after him, with a Lance borne downe to the ground; but getting on horse-backe againe, hee did acts of such fame, as that forraine, Writers doe agree, that he slew with his owne hands that day six and thirty of the enemies. Douglas beleeving that he had done what he desi­red, gave on still, and met with a second, then a third, cloathed with upper garments like the King, which both being over-throwne, or slaine, hee knew not what to thinke of so many Kings in one battell incountred. I name them not, for I meet not with their names in any Authour. Henry, Prince of Wales, a youth not fully sixteen yeares old, wounded in the face by a Dart, and deafe to their perswasions who would have with­drawne him from the battell to have dressed him, gave proofe that in his due time hee would bee that brave King hee was. The enemy gave on no where, nor did his men give any where backe, where hee opened not the enemies rankes, and closed his owne. By his example instructing, and by his valour causing shame, where none was. So as the Kings par­ty hartned by the valiant carriage of the Father and Sonne, the Father followed by the most valiant of his men, seeing the face of Fortune chan­ged, gave on where the enemy was thickest. Young Percie, who accor­ding to his custome, had fought bravely, was by I know not whom, slaine, whose losse was the losse of the Battell on his side. The Kings side began already to cry out victory; and the name of Saint George was [Page 74] ecchoed through all the Campe; when Douglas not longer able to with­stand fortune, the Scots being almost all slaine, the English and Welsh fled) began to think how he might likewise scape, he set spurs to his horse, which stumbling on the top of a hill, he fel down, and in the fall broke one of his genitories, and was tane prisoner. The Earle of Worster (the execra­ble cause of so great mischiefe) the Lord Chinderton, Sir Richard Varnon, & divers others were likewise tane, but in a diverse manner. The battel la­sted three houres: on the Kings side (besides ten Gentlemen who were that morning knighted) 1600. souldiers were slaine, and foure thousand more dangerously hurt: there was slaine of the Rebels 5000. not num­bring the Gentlemen, the Scots, nor those of Chester, who as the Welsh had alwayes beene faithfully devoted to Richard. This defeat fell upon the Saterday, so as the Earle of Worster and the other two had leasure on Sunday to thinke upon their soules, for on Munday the law passed upon them at Shrewsbury. The Earles head was sent and set upon London bridge; the Lord Percies body, which was by the Kings permittance bu­ried, was by command of the same taken up, beheaded and quartered. The punishment of offendors is one of the foundations of State, and to teach great men their duties by their equalls infamy, is numbered amongst the secrets of government.

This was the end of Percy the Hotspurre, one of the valiantest warriers that age produced, he died armed amongst armed troopes, covered with his owne blood, and the blood of others; his end had beene glorious had he died in a more justifiable cause, he mought well have preserved him­selfe (his high spirit being allayed by the Kings last proffer) but the ma­lice of a wicked Uncle hindred him, causing by his false report this his death and infamy. Earle Douglas no subject, but a profest enemy, was by the King commended and admired, and set at liberty. For vertue by men generously minded, is applauded even in enemies. Owen Glendor and the Earle of Northumberland remained yet enemies, not to be dispised. The King sent the Prince his sonne to Wales, who finding the people in those parts possest with feare, by reason of the last overthrow, chased them like so many wilde beasts, over mountaines and through woods. Glendor forsaken by all men, died within a few dayes of meere hunger; his hopes and life, his principalitie and prophesies ending all at once: so as having appeased the countrey, and left governours there, the Prince retur­ned home in triumph. But that Glendor did dye in this sort, is only written by Edward Halle, other writers keep him longer alive. The King tooke a journey towards Yorke, to reduce the Earle of Northumberland to his duty, and found that if he had not beene withstood by the Earle of West­merland and Sir Robert Waterton, hee would have drawne his forces into the field, and have joyned with his sonne; but that fearing to encounter them, he had retired himselfe into his strong Castle. The King writ unto him to disbandon his forces, willing him to come in a peaceable fashion. Hee obeyed, not knowing how to doe otherwise after so great a ruine: he came accompanied onely with a few of his owne followers: he used not many-words, concerning his nakednesse with excuses, and laying those faults upon such as were dead, which lived yet in him. The King dissem­bling his displeasure (for Barwicke and other strengths were yet in his [Page 75] hands furnished with Scottish Garrisons) suffered him to returne, that hee might not againe indanger those confines, he gave him friendly and holy admonitions, which had he had the fortune to imbrace, hee had not hea­ped up desolation upon his family by his owne death. Some will have it that the King pardoned his life, but did confiscate his goods, leaving him onely sufficient for maintenance, and tis not unlikely, for in the next Par­liament he was restored to all except the Isle of man, a superfluous favour if he had not bene formerly punished.

This meane while Valerian Count St. Paul, netled by his no honorable retreat from the Isle of Wight, levied 2000. fighting men, part French, part Genoveses, part Dutch, with the which heunexpectedly sat down be­fore Merc Castle, little more then a league distant from Callis, hoping by their valor & excellency of his Engines, to win it: the place was defended by soldiers more remarkable for their valor then number, so as despairing of taking it by assault, he lodged his troops in the suburbs, which being in­vironed by a ditch, defended him from such as from Callis, or the other Garrisons might at unawares set upon him, he forbare not though to assay their first work with a fierce assault; the which being weakly defended (the defenders not much valuing it) he made himselfe master of, and made a great booty of cattell and horses; his comming being this meane while understood at Callis, the towne sent out a hundred horsemen to discover his situation, who returned without, or giving, or taking offence; but they sent him word that if hee would expect them, they would come and dine with him the next morning, to which he answered, that their dinner should be ready for them: upon breake of day 200 horse, two hundred archers, and three hundred footmen, followed by ten or twelve carts with victu­all and artillery, came forth of Callis. They thought to have met the ene­my in the field, or ready to come forth, but finding them in their rampi­ers, it was necessary to stirre them with their arrowes; a cloud whereof falling thicke upon them who were closed up together betweene the Ca­stle and the ditch, they were sorely gauled, not able to make defence. The Dutch foot being disordered, were the first who run away, and were followed by the greatest part of the horse, and the Genovese Crosse­bowmen, who in the taking in of the first workes had spent all their ar­rowes, were soone defeated. The Count got safe to Terrovan, leaving eighty Noblemen and Gentlemen prisoners besides those that were slain. Of which number was Angestes, Captaine of Bullen, Dampiere, and Ram­burres. The English wonne Artillery, munition, and other pillage, not herewith contented they undertooke to take in Ardres. They brought thither three dayes after, about breake of day 500. men; but the chance at dice is not alwayes alike fortunate, for beyond their expectation, fin­ding the sentinels awake, and the defendants ready to fight, after a long redoubled assault they lost betweene forty and fifty souldiers, so as taking away their ladders, they carried the dead bodies into a house hard by, which they set on fire, to the end that the bodies being burnt, the losse they had suffered might not bee knowne. The Count St. Paul doubly wounded in his reputation (for every man spoke ill of him) resolved to set upon the confines, & do there what mischiefe he could, but this his inten­tion being knowne at Court, hee was commanded to forbeare so doing: [Page 76] his fortune not corresponding to the rancor of his minde: and in his stead foure hundred horse, and five hundred foot, were sent to Bullen for the safety of those Frontiers, conducted by the Marquis Dupont, sonne to the Duke de Bar, by the Count Dammartin, and Count Darpadan, that by their wisedome and valour they might abate the audacity of the Eng­lish.

Philip, surnamed the Bold, Duke of Burgondy, was dead, to whom Iohn his eldest sonne, succeeded in the inheritance of his estate, in the haugh­tinesse of his minde, and in his hatred to the Duke of Orle­ans, the first originall of their destruction, as likewise of the ruine of France. He having heard of the Count Saint Pauls misfortune, did there­at take much apprehension; for his territories in Flanders were next expo­sed to the enemies impressions; King Henry had assembled a Fleet of tall ships, wherein were five thousand fighting men, to force Sleuce. The Duke prepared to succour it. The English having, with bad successe, fought a­gainst the Castle, upon the advice of this succour, were inforced to quit their designe, having lost in the action threescore men; amongst whom the Earle of Pembroke, as Monstrelet reports. But herein he is deceived: for the Earledome of Pembroke was then in the Crowne, by the death of Iohn Hastings, who in Richard the seconds time, was at a tilting slaine, lea­ving no heires behinde him: nor was that honour confer'd on any one many yeares after, till by Henry the fifth it was confer'd upon his brother Humphrey, who was afterward Duke of Gloster.

But the Duke of Burgondy not affying in this retreat, put munition into Graveling, causing a good number of armed men to fall downe upon the frontiers, under the conduct of Signior de Croi: and because to stand onely upon defence, was not conformable to the greatnesse of his spirit, hee re­solved to besiege Callis, the neerest and likeliest thorne wherewith hee might bee pricked. Hee beganne to make extraordinary preparations; and that nothing migh [...] be wanting, hee sent to require aid from France, which certainly would have been granted him, had not the Duke of Or­leans jealousies hindred him. Whereupon he was so much incensed, as that he resolved to goe to the Court of France himselfe, and to stop two maine gaps with one bush: to obtaine aid, and to beat down, at least abate his enemies power. When he was come to Paris, accompanied by eight hundred men, who under their Cassackes were all well armed: he under­stood that the Duke of Orleans was some few houres before gone from the Citie; and that under pretence of hunting, he had carried the Dolphin along with him, with intention of carrying him to Germany: (the first was true, but the second much unlikely) whereupon he beleeved, that Or­leans had done this, to breake off the match which was formerly conclu­ded between the Dolphin and his owne daughter. The Dolphin went from Paris, accompanied by the Duke, his mother, and Lewis of Bavaria, Uncle by his mothers side, with purpose to goe to Mellune. They were to dine at Corviole, whither the Queen and Orleans were already come: the Dolphin and Lewis stayed a little behinde, where the Duke of Bur­gondy came up unto them, who not listning to what ever reasons Lewis could alledge, caused the litter to turne about, and brought the Dolphin back to Paris. Great inconveniences would hereupon have insued, had [Page 77] not the other Princes interposed themselves. But businesses being every day more and more exasperated, Burgondy multiplying injuries, pro­pounding reformations in the government, and therein in bad tearmes, tax­ing the others ill administration; the King was counselled to imploy them both in places apart; two such working braines as theirs, not like to rest in quiet in the Court. An excellent expedience it might have been of con­tinuance, or at a further distance; But being in a point of time terminable in it self, & at a distance to be measured with one pace, it deferred, but did not take away the mischiefe; delay causing those miserable and bloudy effects which ensued. To the Duke of Burgondy the government of Pi­cardy was given, to the end that the forces of that Province joyned to his owne in Flanders, might in the common cause facilitate his owne securi­ty, & the security of the Kingdome. To the Duke of Orleans six thousand men were assigned, and defrayed, for Guascony; whither he went accom­panied by many great Monsieurs, and laid siege to Blay: This place could not hold out long, whereupon the defendants bethought them­selves of a wise caution: If the enemy should take Blay, they could not keep it, unlesse they were likewise masters of Burgos. The towne of Blay did therefore promise to surrender it selfe as soone as Burgos should be taken or surrendred. Orleans well pleased with the bargaine, as appea­ring advantagious unto him, accepted of it, gaining thereby as much time to take in Burgos, as he must have spent in the winning of Blay. But ha­ving lost many of his men in three months siege under Burgos (having quitted a certainty for an uncertainty, and lost both) hee was inforced to returne to Paris, whilst the Duke of Burgondy, wary and well advised, proceeded though more slowly, yet more securely in his designes. Hee was fully bent upon the enterprise of Callis: but that Fort being difficult to winne, defended by a gallant garrison, and easie to be succoured by rea­son of the sea, and the neighbourhood of England, he could not hope the conquest therof without great forces, & very many souldiers: so as having assembled together at Saint Omers, six thousand horse, and fifteen hundred Crosse-bow men, and twelve thousand foot, with proportionable muni­tion and artillery, the enterprise was the second time forbidden him, though he had obtained Charles his consent, Of such prevalence is the rage of a bewitching envie, that such a conquest being to bee had in possibility, without the hazarding of France, they would rather have it remaine in the hand of an enemy, then in the power of Burgondy: a po­werfull reason to make him take that resolution which he did.

Henry's reigne this meane while was like a craggy mountaine, from which there is no descent but by a thousand crooked waies, full of rocky stones and out jetting cliffes. The first escaped, others are met withall of more danger and anxiety, in such like pathes he walked all the time of his life, nor did hee till his end arrive at a wished for plaine, one danger, was a step unto another, and the event alwaies doubtfull, for the subjects for­mer desire of him being now extinguished; his friends failing and his ene­mies encreasing, hee had no other helpe, nor leaning-stocke in so paine­full a descent, but the eye of vigilance and the staffe of chastisement, helpes and assistances, which though they might cause him keepe on his way, yet were they not sufficient to free him from wearinesse: besides, he [Page 78] was not certaine of overcomming all difficulties at last, a condition fitter for compassion then envy in a Prince in his case, and yet it was election that brought him to the kingdome, having alwaies beene of that opinion, which is held generous by most men, to hazard himselfe to very ex­treams, & to be aut Caesar aut nihil: yet I cannot find that there is any worth or noblenesse in aspiring to great matters by unlawfull waies, & that mag­nanimity, a vertue in its owne nature so nice and tender, can walke in such pathes without galling her feet, unlesse it be that as things here below are composed of contrary elements, so are our mindes composed of con­tradictory affections: he was before subject to many conspiracies, now more then ever: and those who durst not aspire to bereave him of his life by their sword, endevoured to bereave him of his honour by their pen. A revenge common enough amongst poore spirited people, and such as are not worth the considering.

A Priest casting about how he might slay Henry, made a catalogue of all such as had been rewarded by Richard; giving it for granted, that they would undergoe the businesse; setting downe their names in paper, as if they had already consented to the conspiracie. This list being found a­bout him (whilst they endeavoured to lay hold of such whose names were there written) he confessed he had never dealt with any of them, but that it was a meere Idea of his owne, imagining that some of them having been obliged by Richard, other some injured by Henry, they would all have been willing to have contributed to his destruction. A confession which saved the lives of many, & condemned his own. A Franciscan Frier together with eight more of the same order, being accused as authours of certaine scandalous libels against the King, and demanded what he would have done if Richard had been alive? answered, Hee would have fought for him against whosoever else, as long as he could stand. Sir Roger Cla­rindon, Bastard brother to King Richard, accused of the like fault, was, together with another Gentleman, and a servant, ignominiously hanged.

Richard had divers times beene said to bee alive after his death: more 1404 particularly this yeare, by the means of one Sherley his letters, who was one of the Gentlemen of his Chamber. This man, after his Masters fall, withdrew himselfe into France, where being confidently informed, that Richard yet lived, he went to Scotland to know the truth. But after hee had spoken with the Impostor, whom hee knew to bee such, hee forbare not to make use of the occasion; and (through the hatred hee bore Henry) to doe his best to deprive him of his Kingdome, hee caused a seale to be made, like unto that which Richard was wont to use: he writ divers letters to sundry friends, signed with the same, as if they had been written by Richard; insomuch that he distracted the mindes of many, it being al­ready vndoubtedly beleeved, that Richard lived. The old Countesse of Oxford, mother to the Duke of Ireland, did not only publish the certain­ty hereof, but did likewise cause a great many Stagges to be made in gold and silver (which was Richards cognizance) and bestowed them on such as depended on her, to the end that they might stitch them on their sleeves, as soone as he should be entred England. But the little advised­nesse used in this affaire, and her too much security herein, who sent a Se­cretary of hers to sundry people through all Essex, was the cause of the [Page 79] discovery: so as she consumed her dayes in a close prison, her goods be­ing by Law confiscated, and the Secretary ended his journey in a Halter under a Gallowes. Sherley finding that his plots could not take effect, and not able to returne for France for lack of money, came to Barwicke, ho­ping that Sir William Clifford, a friend of Richards, would have furnished him. Sir William kept this place against the Kings good will, having re­fused to resigne it over to such as were by the King sent to him for that end: so as being guilty of high treason, hee looked to bee besiged, taken, and put to death. Wherefore giving over his uselesse respect to Richard, he detained Sherley, and sent him to the King, and was rewarded with for­givenesse of his former disobedience. Sherley was executed, who con­fessed (to boot with his former fault) that he was one of them who stran­gled the Duke of Gloster; so as though he died very penitently, and much compassionated by many, yet the greatest part did no wayes pitty him, the popular memory of the popular Duke, prevailing over the respect of the King now living. All the above-named were like so many paunes at Chesse, which advancing too rashly, were lost; whilst the great men, alike inconsiderately, endeavouring to mate the King, met with the like fortune. There was not one in the whole Nobility, who did not now desire a change of government, but few that did resolve to endevour it. For events founded upon the uncertainty of fortune, are for the most part of certaine & inevitable ruine. Hatred, as all things else, hath its degrees: he who is in the last degrees, cares not much to hazard himselfe till such time, as hap­py successe is of little use, and unhappy successe of inevitable danger. But who is in the first degrees of hatred, and therein bathed in his own bloud, hath bolder: resolves revenge, being an intense passion, and an indefa­tigable egger on of the spirits in offended veines.

The Earle of Northumberland who had lost his brother and his son; the Archbishop of Yorke who had lost his brother, and Maubery Earle 1405 Marshall, who had lost his father an exiled man in Venice; all enemies to the King in highest degree, conspired his ruine, taking for their colour the ordinary pretence of reformation, and ease of the people, oppressed with strange taxes, as if to represse the attempts of France, Scotland and Wales (in which service they were imployed) had not beene necessary, as indeed it was not according to their tenets, for such repression did pre­serve authority, and did establish, together with the common good, the reputation and awe of a Prince, which they would have oppressed and un­done, though to the undoing of the kingdome. The Lord Hastings, Falcon­bridge, Bardolf, and many others did joyne in this conspiracy; the order they therein tooke, was to meet all at an appointed time with their forces at Yorke, under the command of the Earle of Northumberland, but the Archbishops impatiency broke this designe, for being returned to Yorke together with the Earle Marshall, hee thought to facilitate the enterprise by honesting it, so as having framed certaine articles, and sent copies of them into other countries, he caused them be set upon the Church doores, thereby inviting the people to take armes to reforme abuses introduced by the ill administration of the present government. The Archbishop was of a pleasing countenance, well read, and indued with much vertue, so as having till this present led a blamelesse life, he was free from being [Page 80] thought to have any evil intentions (but tis usual for man to fall back from well doing) and hereupon at his first becke, 20000. men came flocking to him: an unseasonable diligence for his confederates, as likewise for himself. The King was informed of all that had past, and not failing in diligence in his owne affaires, he had at the first noyse of this rebellion levied 30000. fighting men, giving order to the Earle of Westmerland (to whom he joy­ned a sonne of his owne very young) to goe before him into these parts, and to governe himselfe as occasion should require. Being come to Yorke he found that the Archbishop had placed his campe forth of the city, and perceiving that it was not his best to give him battell (for he was much in­feriour in forces) he encamped himselfe over against him. And changing the Lyons skin into the Foxes, he sent him word that he wondred to find a man of his profession in the posture hee found him, since hee could not finde any reason, why he should arme the Kings people contrary to the Kings peace: to the which the Archbishop answered, that he so was far from infringing the Kings peace, as that all that he did tended to the pre­servation thereof. Whereupon entring upon the occasions of discontent with him that was sent unto him, he shewed him the Articles; and for the Earles better satisfaction, hee sent them unto him by a Gentleman of his own. He who had determined to do what hee did, seemed to rest satisfied: but that a businesse of this high nature being in question, it was requisite they should meet together to treat thereof; which might easily be done, each of them bringing a like number of men betwixt the two campes. There is no net so secure as that which is spread in the commendations of hîm who is to be deceived: for the Archbishop hearing his actions ap­plauded by him who was sent to oppose him, confident to bring him o­ver to his side, made no difficulty to give him meeting. And which is more brought the Earle Marshall along with him, though with much adoe, and contrary to his will, who had in vaine used all the meanes hee could to disswade him from it. Being met together with equall numbers betweene the two campes, Westmerland after some short discourse, seemed to bee perswaded, professing that in so just a quarrell he would fight to the ut­most of his life; whereupon shaking hands in the fight of both armies, wine was called for, and given about in token of friendship, and agree­ment; a ceremony which not soone to bee ended, the Earle said to the Archbishop, that their differences being ended in a joynt consent, it was not expedient to detain any longer so many people with such incōmodity from their houses and shops▪ but that suddenly disbandoned, it was reason they should together with them, enjoy the fruits of the established re­conciliation; the Archbishop believed the Earle, and his people him, who returned to the City aboundantly content: the cups went this while meri­ly about, whilst those of the Kings party gathering one by one together, grew to such a multitude, as that there being now no more cause of feare, the Earle did at the same time arest the Archbishop, and Earle Marshall, plighting his faith unto them (the same as hee had formerly done) that they should not suffer in their lives: and meeting the King at Pomfret, who made what haste hee could to Yorke; hee brought along with him the prisoners, who much commiserated and bemoaned, were adjuged to dye, and were forthwith beheaded: Some doe report that the Archbi­shop [Page 81] obtained of the headsman to cut off his head at five blowes, in the honour of our Saviours five wounds, and that the King being at dinner, was at the same time by an invisible hand strucke as often in the necke, remaining afterwards a Leper: A thing possible to him whom all things are possible; but God doth not alwaies worke according to his omnipo­tency, for the King did neither receive these blowes, neither did hee re­maine a Leper; to prove the falshood whereof, the Archbishops tombe being devoutly flocked unto, as to the tombe of a Martyr, hee by pub­lique prohibition forbad the recourse thereunto; the which hee would not have done, if he had beene miraculously strucke in manner aforesaid; and for what concerns the name of Martyr, his cause did not deserve it, for he being a Pastor misled his flocke from spirituall pastorage to rebel­lion, and to the shambles; and since the judgements of the Almighty touching the falling of the just, is not to bee sought into, the reasons of his former life conclude not for him. The King having by fines punished the City, went towards Northumberland, at Durham he caused the two Barons, together with the two Knights of the confederacy, to be execu­ted. The Earle understanding his associates misfortune, withdrew him­selfe to Barwicke, where not thinking himselfe strong enough, hee fled to Scotland together with the Lord Bardolf, and was friendly received by the Lord Fleming. The King finding Barwick resolute not to yeeld, level­led a peece of Canon against the Castle thereof (an instrument in those dayes new and not knowne) with the which at the very first shot he bat­tered it almost downe to the ground; whereat the defendants being a­mazed, without capitulation, yeelded themselves to the Kings pleasure, who hanging some and imprisoning the rest, made himselfe master of all the Earle of Northumberlands seats; where taking order for all things requisite, he passed into Wales, leaving the Prince his sonne and the Duke of Yorke with a great army in those parts; but he found such deluges of water amongst those mountaines, as he was forced toquit the enterprise; he had carried along with him many carts and wagons loaded with the most pretious things he had, which were all born away by the violence of the torrents, no one peece of them remaining. Some believe that this was done by the Divell, Owen Glendor being held to be a great Negromancer; but I am of opinion that if he had had any such power he would have made use thereof against the King himselfe, for the losse of the Kings person did more availe him, then the losse of his carriages. The Scotch men on the other side should have come into England to aide the conspirators, but hearing what had happened, they budged not, but endeavoured to defend themselves by land from the Prince, and by sea from Sir Robert Vmfrevill, Vice Admirall of the Navy, but nothing happened of much importance. The one had only time to spoile the Country, and the other to sacke the coasts of Fife, and Lugdiana, all mischiefes ceasing in a truce agreed upon for one yeare, which made them returne to their owne homes.

The plague did now grow hot in London and thereabouts; so as the 1406 King not being safe in Kent, the infection much spred in all places, was glad to take shipping to goe to Plessis in Essex, the Lord Camois was his guide; they were already well advanced in the sea, when certaine French Pirates (who lay in the Thames mouth for pilladge) understanding of [Page 82] this passage, pursued them, and intended to take the ship wherein the King was; tooke 4 ships that were next unto him, one of the which was loaded with furniture of his chamber, and things belonging to his owne person. The Baron, who together with the other vessels, were a good way from the King, came not in time enough to assist his Majesty, nor yet to recover what was lost; so as if the Kings ship had not been a swift sayler, and so made voide the Pirates hopes, hee had run danger of going for France in stead of Essex. Camois was strictly questioned, and in danger of losing his life, as thought to have held intelligence with these Pirates; but better defending his own innocency, then hee succoured the King, he was by the Judges acquitted. The plague being ceased, the King returned to London: He made the match between Philleppa the younger of his two daughters, and Henry King of Denmarke; and this was the third marriage that was celebrated in his family after his comming to the Crowne, for before this hee had married Blanch to William Duke of Bavaria, Prince Elector, and hee himselfe had tane to wife Ione the daughter of Charles the second, King of Navarre, the widdow of Iohn Montfort, Duke of Brittany, which I have not mentioned, as not belonging to the thred of my discourse. But what befell Prince Iames the only sonne and heire of Scotland, who did at this time fall into the power of England, is not to be passed by, as worthy of ample relation.

Robert the third who now reigned in Scotland, and who in his bap­tisme 1407 was named Iohn, changed the name of Iohn for Robert; either for that the Roberts of Scotland had beene fortunate, or for that the Iohns of England and of France had been unfortunate; as if the name were of force enough to make those effects good, which fortune (God permit­ting) had preordained bad. Tis true, that amongst the Kings named Iohn few are found who either have not been very bad, or very unfortunate. Castile, Portugall, and Arragon, afford us examples hereof, of three he­reditary Queene Ioanes, the two of Naples were unfortunate, and unchast; the third of Castile was chast, but most unfortunate. This notwithstan­ding Iohn of Scotland did not by change of name, change the maligne a­spect of his destiny, for those evills befell him, having tane upon him the name of Robert, which would have befalne him, had he kept the name of Iohn▪ the divine providence not being to bee changed by such alterati­ons This King was by divers pensils painted forth in the same colours; Hector Boëtius describes him affable, mercifull, an enemy to extortions, charitable and pious. Buchanan a severe writer, doth in one place give him to us, rather as voide of vice, then famous for vertue: and another speaking of his innocency, inriches him with all the worth that is to bee desired in a private man, but judges him rather to be an honest man, then a good King. Tis very true, he had nothing of King in him, save the name, the whole authority remaining in Robert Duke of Aubeney, his younger brother, in his fathers time created governour of the Kingdome; a mani­fest proofe of his incapacity to governe it alone. But this Duke did not content himselfe with the bare government, he aspired to the Crowne; which though he attained not, yet left he no wickednesse unattempted to effect it, and the life of the Prince David being a great rub in his way, the death of the Queene his mother, and of Earle Douglas his father in law, [Page 83] afforded him meanes of bereaving him of it, as hee desired.

This Prince was very lewdly inclined, and so given to his unbridled lust, as that he was not to be endured. Whilst his mother lived, (who kept him in some awe) he lived in some order; but shee being dead, let­ting the reines loose to his naturall inclination, no maidenhood was unde­flowred, nor marriage bed unviolated. When trickes and flatteries could not prevaile, hee made use of force: Daily complaints were made unto the King, of injuries done by his sonne. The father (by reason of his weaknesse contemned) not able to amend him, determined to transferre the care thereof to his brother, thinking that onely hee was able to tame him; an error ordinary enough in persons of his condition. For the good man suspects not what he doth not imagine, and what he himselfe would not doe, were he to gaine the world thereby. The sheep being thus deli­vered over to the Wolfe, the Duke, at the very first, shut him up in Saint Andrewes Castle; a jurisdiction of that Archbishopricke, the which af­ter the death of the last Archbishop, hee had unduly usurped under pre­tence of keeping it, during the vacancie of that Metropolitan See: but thinking him to be there too nigh the Kings eare, and the Courts eye (de­siring rather his death then his amendment) he carried him to the strong hold of Faukland, a jurisdiction of his owne, where he caused him to be put into a dungeon, with direction that he should there dye of hunger; a commission, though given in secret, yet by the effect sufficiently published, no preparation being made in so little a place (where all that was done, was seene) neither for the person, nor nourishment of such a prisoner. He had died in a few dayes (and it had been better for him, since die he must) had he not been kept in life by the daughter of the Keeper of the Castle, and a countrey Nurse, who commiserated his condition, and had accesse through an Orchard to the Castle. The former nourished him with oaten Cakes, which by little peeces shee conveyed unto him through a chinke; the other gave him sucke through a small Cane, the one end whereof he tooke into his mouth, whilst she squiezed her milke in at the other end. His keepers marvelled to see him still alive; but the meanes being discovered, the two charitable women were cruelly put to death, the father accusing his owne daughter, to prove himselfe faithfull to him that was unfaithfull, and a tyrannous Governour. At last, when he had torne his flesh, and eaten his fingers through rage, by death hee put an end to his vices, miseries and life. This bitter accident was generally knowne every where, before the King had any notice of it, every one fea­ring to be slaine for recompence of doing so good an office. Having at last hear [...] some whispering thereof, hee could not believe otherwise then as it was. Great were the complaints, but the brother excused himselfe, deluding justice by laying the fault upon divers who were in the castle for faults deserving death, whom he accused for having murdered the Prince, for which they suffered death. The King not herewithall satisfied, but unable to revenge himselfe, he publickly besought God by some miracu­lous judgement to punish the author of so great a wickednesse. He had yet a second sonne living, named Iames, he was advised to send him abroad, since it was not likely he who had committed so horrid a treason; would stick at the murthering of him also; without the which, his former mis­chiefe [Page 84] would nothing availe. France was thought the safest place to send him to. The young Prince was with much secrecie imbarked: Henry Sincleer, Earle of the Orchades, being given unto him for governour, but having shunned Scylla, hee fell (as the Proverbe sayes) upon Carybdis: for the Marriners having cast anchor before Flemburgh in England (ei­ther driven by the windes, or to refresh the Prince much afflicted with sea­sickenesse) they were known to be Scots, & the Prince known to be there, so as he was detained and brought to Court: it was long disputed at the Councell Table whether he should be suffered to depart or no, but the negative prevailed. His Father fearing such an incounter, had given him a letter for Henry, which though full of compassion and pitty, did not alter the resolution taken. So as hee being old, deprived of his sonnes, and feebly hearted, gave himselfe over to griefe, would take no more meate, and in three daies died for meere sorrow. Scotland confirmed the government of that Kingdome upon the Duke of Auboney, till such time as their new King Iames should regaine his liberty. Buchanan ac­cuses King Henry for that action: his chiefe reason being that he detained him whilest there was yet a truce of eight yeares betweene the two Crownes: but I finde no other truce then that of the preceding yeare already expired. Edward Askew treates at large upon this, you may per­use him. This imprisonment by consent of all Scottish writers, was more happy to him then whatsoever liberty; for the King gave him such edu­cation as belonged to his birth. The Scotchmen are naturally given to all discipline, as well speculative as active; ingenious at sciences; stout and valiant in warre: but this Prince out did them all in aptnesse to all these, for he surpassed his teachers, aswell in horsemanship, as in Theo­logie, Philosophy, and other liberall sciences; especially in musicke, and poetry, wherein he proved most expert: so as that fortune which was thought unhappy, crowned him with glory: for besides the advantage of so good education, he was free from feare of his Uncle, and was in his due time an introducer of learning, politenesse, and such arts as were not before known in Scotland: it is to be observed in him, that evill fortune is the best Academy for a man to profit in. A rule which suffered exception in the Earle of Northumberland (whose last actions we must now treate of) for though an old man, he died a schollar in that Academy, before he had learnt the maxime of good government; not using patience, but in his vast thoughts (plausible but pernitious counsellors) resolving ra­ther to dye, then live declined; a noble resolution in a better cause or up­on more mature occasion.

He had made many journeyes into France, Flanders, and Wales, to 1408 raise up warre, and get helpe against his King; all which proved of no use to him: at last he returned to Scotland, from whence accompanied by Bardolf, he fell with great troopes of men upon Northumberland; he there recovered divers Castles, his army much encreasing by divers, who from those parts came to assist him; from thence he passed into Yorke­shire, where by proclamation he invited all those to side with him who loved liberty: The King at the first noise hereof went to meet him; but hardly was he come to Nottingham, when he understood that Sir Tho­mas Rookesby Shirife of that Shire, had given him battell, slayne him, [Page 85] and taken Bardolf prisoner, who afterwards dyed of his wounds. The King did not though forbeare to pursue his journey, that hee might quench the yet hot ashes of that rebellion: he mulcted many, and put many to death, answerable to the condition of their faults. The Bishop of Bangor, and Abbot of Ailes (who were taken prisoners in the con­flict) met with different fortunes according to the diversity of their ha­bits. The Abbot being taken in armour, was hanged; the Bishop who was clothed in the habits of his profession was pardoned; the heads of the two Peers were cut off, put upon the top of two speares, and sent to be set upon London bridge: This was the miserable end of the father, sonne, and brother; descended from one of the noblest races that came from Normandie, into England: all this ruine being occasioned out of a meer capritchio of wrastling with the King, and detaining in his despite the Scottish prisoners, which had not happened had they not beleeved to have so well deserved at his hands as that they might make him doe what they listed: a presumption which hath and will deceive many: for Princes will not be thought capable of such obligation, as that they must acknowledge their being from another; and much lesse to have their subjects their benefactors: the very thought thereof hath beene and ever will be with them mortall.

Here all King Henries adverse fortune had a period; and in this calme he likewise calmed all home suspitions and jealousies; having in the short time he afterwards lived some small forraine armies not to weary him, but to keep him in breath: he had (as wise Princes ought) his eyes every where, he tooke order for the very least affaires: for negligence in a new and not beloved Prince, is no lesse the mother of contempt, then is dili­gence the mother of reverence and respect: many ships appertaining to particular men, were come upon the coast of the Kingdome upon this oc­casion of warre, to lie in waite for pillage, which hindred the Merchants ships from traffiquing abroad; he gave order for a sufficient fleet com­manded by Edmond Holland Earle of Kent, formerly created Admirall, who having scoured the coasts of England, and France, and met with no enemy, he understood they had retired themselves into Britany, whither he steered his course; he assaulted Briache a place upon the sea side: The inhabitants did couragiously defend the place, wounded many of the English, in particular the Admirall himselfe with a stone in the head, of the which he died five daies after; a fatall blow to him, and unfortunate to them; for the assaliants growing more obstinate through this losse, tooke the Towne by force, burnt all the houses, and put all to the sword that they found in posture of defence. This Earle was brother to Thomas Holland Duke of Surrey, who in the conspiracy at Oxford, was slaine by the Townesmen of Chester; he was in such favour with the King, as be­sides the restoring of him to his bloud, inheritance, and honour, he with much labour and expence, procured him to marry with Lucia Visconte: This Lady was the tenth daughter of Barnaby Visconte, Lord not onely of Millaine, but almost of all Lumbardy; the other nine were matched to great Princes; as to Leopald Duke of Austria, the two Dukes of Bava­ria, and to the King of Ciprus: so as if the King had not extraordinarily fa­voured him, it was not a match befitting his fortune: she brought him [Page 90] 100000. Crownes in gold; an unusuall portion in those dayes, and to the last of so many daughters. Cor [...]us calls him Earle of Kent, and sonne to Henry the fourth; beleeving that any inferior quality was unfit to match with so great a Princesse; she being now a widow, and without children, the King purposed to marry her to Marquis Dorset, his brother; but she not liking thereof (he being a man in yeares and of no pleasing a­spect) did secretly marry herselfe (with hazard of losing for ever all shee had) to Henry Mortimer, to whom she bore three daughters, which being all honorably married, left a noble and continued succession.

The affaires in France this mean while (the which hereafter must be in­terlaced with this our story) were come to the period of ruine, so to bring 1409 England to the period of greatnesse, which had not happened for whatso­ever worth or fortune, had not the way beene chalked out unto them by the enmity between the house of Burgundy and Orleance: Let me bee permitted to make a large relation thereof, since they were the rice of all the disorders that succeeded betwixt these two warlike Nations: we have heard how the Duke of Burgundy having the second time resolved upon the enterprise of Callis, was commanded to the contrary; & that thinking that this affront proceeded from the ill will that Orleans bore him, hee was mightily incensed; this anger afterwards increasing, and not able to suffer him his superior, nor the other him his equall, he resolved to be­reave him of his life; with this resolution he went to Paris, where he got together eighteene men, the very scum of all the rascality of France, making one Rolletto Antoneville, a Norman, their chiefe, who having by the favour of the late Duke of Burgundy, father to this present Duke, ob­tained an office of great moment, had it tane from him by the Duke of Orleans; so as the obligation he had to the one, and the losse he recei­ved by the other, made him more covet this murther, then did Burgun­dy; the Queene had bought a house without the gate Barbet, for her re­creation, where shee was at this time brought to bed, the child being dead, so as she keeping her bed they were sure Orleans would not faile to visite her; they tooke a house neere the said gate, for that he re­turning by night as of necessity he must doe by reason of the shortnesse of the dayes, the season being November, they might have opportunity to doe that wicked action: the Duke went to make this visit, and they fea­ring lest in his returne he might come some other way, sent unto him a footman of the Kings, one of their number, to will him from the King to come presently to him, for that he had a businesse to confer with him in, which concerned them both: The Duke who knew the messenger, took leave of the Queene and got on horsebacke, waited upon onely by five footmen with torches, by two gentlemen which rid before him both of one horse, and by a Dutchman, who being come out of pagery, and not having whereon to ride, followed him on foot; the assassinates stood waiting for him in a corner, as the torch light appeared, they came forth upon him, and at the first stroke strucke off one of his hands; he cried out I am Orleans, t'is Orleans that we would have, replied they; wherwith­all loading him with wounds, he fell from his horse with his head so cloven, as that his braines fell out upon the stones; the faithfull Dutch­man desirous to be his shield, threw himselfe before him, and was soone [Page 87] slaine; the horse which was gone before, did so start, when hee came neer these men, as that huffing and pricking up his eares, he runne so hard away, as the two men could not in a long time take him up; having stay­ed him, and returning backe to meet their Master, they might see the Dukes horse with no body on his backe, which they led backe by the bridle, thinking that the Duke lighting upon such like accident as they had done, might be fallen; but being come unto the place, and by the murtherers threatned to be served with the same sauce; they run to the Queens house, crying out murther, murther; the murtherers this meane while having set the house on fire wherein they lay, to the end that their neighbours fright might make their escape more secure, got to the Pal­lace of Artois a house of the Duke of Burgundies. This newes being knowne through all the City, and first in Orleans house, his friends, and servants, runne to the place, where they found his body lying in a sea of bloud horribly massacred; they carried the body into the next Church, whither the King of Cicily, and the chiefest of the Court came, sorily lamenting; the next morning his hand and brains being found lying in the street all durty, they were put together with the body into a leaden coffin, and buried in a Chappell which he himself had caused to be built. At his funerall, three corners of the cloth which covered the Bieare, were held up by the Princes of Sicily, Berry, and Burbony, Burgundy held up the fourth; this fained charity not corresponding with his unfained cruelty; for what ever inquisition could be made, no newes could be heard of the assassinates. The Provost being called to the Councell table, said it was impossible for him to finde out any thing touching this affaire, unlesse hee might be permitted to search the houses of the greatest Lords, and espe­cially the Pallaces of the Princes: The King of Sicily, Duke of Berry, and Duke Burbon, were content, but not Burgundy, who not knowing what to say, tooke the three Princes aside, and confessed that he had bin the author of that homicide: whereupon filled with horror and amaze­ment (Berry exclaming that in one day he had lost two nephewes) they left him, keeping the secret to themselves, not knowing without mature deliberation how to publish it: The next day after, Burgundy being come to goe to the Councell table, Berry in whose house the meeting was, met him at the chamber doore, and told him this was no place for him; wherewithall he shut the doore upon him, leaving him much confused, a usage he had not beene accustomed unto, and what he beleeved would not now have beene used, without resolutions of further consequence, so as fearing to be clapt up in prison, hee forthwith returned to his owne house, and getting on horseback, & being waited on only by five men, he rid to Bapomus, upon the confines of Artois, the place of his command, and went 42. leagues not taking any rest but what was necessary either to bate or change his horses; from thence having slept a while, he went to Lillo in Flanders; this his unexpected departure, was no sooner di­vulged, but the occasion thereof was knowne, the dead Duke had 600. what Gentlemen what Knights defraied by him in Paris, all which were of no use to him, who trusted more in his quality then he ought to have done, he imagined the Duke of Burgundy would have exercised his ill will in publicke against his power, not by treachery against his person; a [Page 88] hundred of these well horst, and led by Clegnet of Brabant Admirall of France, would have followed Burgundy: but the King of Sicily, fearing greater inconveniences, hindred their designe, not suffering them to goe. He who formerly was thought the chiefe author of this murther, was Albertus of Canni (injured by the Duke who had taken from him his wife, and had by her a sonne, who proved afterwards one of the bravest Cavalliers in all France) but the knowne truth freed him of suspition: all men except the Parisians, detested this fact, but their rejoycing lasted but a while: for the evills they received through the oppressions, and mis­government of Orleans, were not the hundreth part so bad as those they suffered after by the oppression and misgovernment of the Duke of Bur­gundy. The Assassinates having changed their apparrell, left Paris like­wise, and went to Artois, according to the order they had formerly re­ceived from their Master. When Valentina Duches of Orleans, heard this sad newes, she hasted to Paris, and kneeled downe before the King, demanding justice, which was likely to bee granted, for he did tenderly love his brother; but his weaknesse was such as suffered him to give her no other comfort, save hopes and promises. The Duke of Burgundy ha­ving represented the businesse to the common people after his manner, he published a manifestation thereof; wherein having made knowne the reasons which had inforced him to this resolution, he pretended to merit thankes and praise, rather then blame or punishment. The two Uncles Sicily, and Berry, fearing lest he might joyne with the English, invited him to give them a meeting at Amiens, he came thither and caused two launces to be set a crosse upon his lodging doore, in this manner X which fashioned forth the Burgundy crosse; the one of them had a bur used in war, the other such a one as is used at tilting; as if he would by this Hy­roglifique say, it should be in their choice to chuse peace or war: Their meeting was to no purpose; for (contrary to the Kings expresse inhibition) he went with 4000. men to Paris (where he was with great expressions of joy received by the Parisians) where (to justifie his horrid fault) hee by the mouth of one Iohn Petit, accused the Duke of Orleans, for having aspired unto the Kingdome, bewitched the King, plo [...]ed treachery a­gainst his children, and for having made confederacy with the King of England, to make himselfe master of the Crowne of France by the death of his brother, as the other had got the Crowne of England by his Co­sens death; for having sowed discord betwixt the King and Queene, [...]o the end that having lost her matrimoniall love, her person might bee the more at his command; that he had made himselfe Master of the most considerable places of the Kingdome, putting out the former governours, and placing others of his owne depending in their roomes, that he might make use of them against his brother; that he had procured Pope Benedict to declare the King incapable of the Crowne (as Childericus formerly was) that he himselfe might obtaine it: his conclusion was, that being for so many faults guilty of treason, both divine and humane, he was to be declared lawfully slaine; and the King out of meere feare, declared him as was urged justly put to death. The Duke having obtained what he desired, returned to Flanders, from thence he went in assistance of the Bishop, and Prince of Leidge against the Leigois, who had rebel­led [Page 89] against him, he overcame them, and gave them what Lawes he plea­sed, whereby he wonne such renowne, as France had reason to fear him now more then before: for though in his absence the King had permitted the Dowager Duches to answer unto his accusations, and revoked his pardon, with an intention to punish him; yet understanding of this vi­ctory, and that his brothers, and cosens, had declared themselves for him; he disabandoned the people who were gathered together to have forced him, and those who had appeared his enemies, repented them­selves for having been so forward. Together with this examining the continuancy of the Parisians (strangely passionate for the Duke) the King resolved to retire himselfe to Towres; not so much to free himselfe from their danger, as to revenge himselfe of them: for the absence of the Court redounds much to their losse, by reason of the profit they receive by its residency with them: at the which being lesse satisfied, and more of­fended then ever, they sent for Burgundy, who came to them well ac­companied; but his conscience pointing out unto him his injustice, and keeping him in perpetuall agitation; he sent his cosen William Duke of Baviers, to Towres, to make him some agreement for him; not out of any acknowledgement of repentance, but out of a desire which guilty people have to bury their shame: and because a warre (in such a case alwaies blameable and unjust) brings ruine if it be lost; and if wonne, it doth but erect Trophies of shame and infamy, the King sent Lodovick Duke of Baviers the Queens brother to meet him, and Montaigne Lord high Ste­ward of the houshold with the articles of agreement. The Duke hated Montaigne, as a maine Orleanist, and gave him bitter words which he took patiently: but the articles not being according to his liking, he re­gulated them; and though they were not afterwards agreed upon accor­ding to his corrections; they were yet so handled as that he was con­tented; for his adversaries having lost all their defence by the death of their mother Valentina, (who died of griefe not long before) there was none to oppose him: They being all yong orphans, unexperienced, and for want of direction, abandoned by all. Peace being concluded, the parties met at Shartres, where in the presence of the King, Queene, and Dolphin, and Princes, they swore the peace though the yong Duke of Orleans, and the Count Vertu, (the Count of Anguleine the third bro­ther not being present, by reason of his infancy) were observed to weepe in the doing of it, being inforced by the King, and of yeares, and power not fit to make refusall. The Duke of Burgundy being together with the Court returned to Paris, and knowing that what was done was not likely long to continue, he resolved to work his own establishment by the ruine of such as favoured the house of Orleans: but being to guild over his unjust intention with the title of justice, directly opposite to the sworne peace, and resolute not to suffer Montaigne live, as one of the chiefe of them, he caused him to be questioned before the Magistracy, for the administration of the Kings monies, where in his account between figures and cyphers, his head was struck off, and his life was made a cy­pher. The Duke of Berry who was a Courtier born, & well verst in Court policies, guest at his designes; and not able to indure affronts, as one who had formerly lived with as much or more authority in the govern­ment, [Page 90] then any other Prince; withdrew himselfe to Angeires; whither unsent for, all the malecontents did presently flock: this unexpected as­sembly caused a speedy confederacy between the Duke of Berry, the Duke of Orleans, and his brother; the Count Cleremont, (now Duke of Burbony by his fathers decease) the Count Alanson, and Count Armi­niacke; so as the peace of Shartres proved a short lived Ephemera which died the day it was borne, and indeed it was never thought other by the wisest sort: the newes of this conjunction did more and more exasperate the Duke of Burgundy: he willed the Lord Albret, constable of France, to raise as many men as possibly he could, making use of the name of the Kings safety, to save himselfe, since he, not the King, was the marke that was aimed at. Albret obeyed, as not able to doe otherwise; hee was no friend to Burgundy, and a great friend to his enemies, as the successe de­monstrated. France like a firebrand newly extinguished, tooke fire a­gaine at the approaching of this sudaine blaze. Count Richmonte hea­ring that the colleagues were retired to Shartres, came thither likewise with a great number of men. They first demanded audience of the King: but they wished him to come armed with patience, whilest they pretended to appeare before him armed with iron. The Queen who did both hate, and feare Burgundy, did what in her lay to appease them, ha­ving to this purpose made two journeyes her selfe in person: but it was not in her power to keep them from comming to Paris: of so much force is desperation, when it hath usurped the place of reason, and advice. They came to the very Suburbes of Marcelles: strange were the disor­ders which were every where committed by the souldiers aswell of one side, as of the other.

But the incommodities and difficulties equally divided, after many 1410 too's and fro's, caused a second peace, called the peace of Winchester, wherein was concluded, that both Berry, and Burgundy, were to with­draw themselves from the Court; that when the one should be sent for, the other should bee sent for likewise; and that the meane while they should all withdraw themselves, which gave but small satisfaction to the three brothers: for Berry made use of them for his own particular ends, which when he had compassed, he cared no longer for them, and it being a thing usuall for the parties offended not to forgive, unlesse some satisfa­ction be made; they pretended not to be included in this peace, since in their particular they had received no manner of satisfaction: so as if they swore unto the peace of Shartres it was to obey the King: and if they consented unto this, it was for that they could not doe otherwise, be­ing abandoned by all. The Duke of Berry was returned to Burges: and the Duke of Burgundy desirous to calme all the former distastes, sent un­to him three Embassadors, of which the Lord of Croy was chiefe. They went on their intended way, when met by certaine of the Duke of Or­leans his people, betweene Orleans, and Burges, the Signeur de Croy was stayed by them, and all the rest suffered to passe: the next day being questioned concerning the Duke of Orleans death, hee confessed nothing of prejudice, though he suffered terrible torment.

The other two complaining hereof to the Duke of Berry, (to whom the affront appertained) required his freedome, wherein though the King joy­ned [Page 91] with him, neither protestation, threats nor reason could prevaile with the brothers. They pretended the peace of Shartres to be invalid, as pursued contrary to the order of Law and Justice: and that the King was compelled thereunto; that the Duke of Burgundy had violated the same, by pursuing, undoing, and putting to death as many of their friends as he could; that the peace of Winchester had been likewise by him in many points broken; that those who had murthered their father, though condemned and banished, did live securely in his territories, and did like­wise come at their pleasure into France, no notice being taken of them; and that they were pensioned by him; and that no Councellors nor Offi­cers, depending upon either of the parties, being to tarry near the Kings person, his Majesty was not only waited upon by such as had dependen­cy upon Burgundy.

The Queene and Duke of Berry did what they could to make a new 1411 accord betweene them: But Burgundy resolute not to recede from any thing agreed upon at Shartres, the brothers sent a Herald with an oppro­brious defiance, wherein they intimated warre unto him; and he in ano­ther, altogether as bad, did freely accept the chalenge: not many yeares before, hee had contracted a friendship with the Duke of Burbony, whilst (his father being alive) he was onely Count Cleremont. This present occasion serving for ballance to weigh friends, and no friends; he sent a messenger to him of purpose, to put him in mind how they were reciprocally obliged one to another by their former contract of friend­ship. Burbony having considerately thought upon an answer, detesting his ambition, and being by bloud allied unto the three brothers (their fa­ther being sonne to a sister of his) thought it better became him to faile him then them, so as renouncing the pretended confederacy, he declared himselfe for the brothers: on the contrary side, the two chiefe Cities A­miens, and Paris, declared themselves for Burgundy: whereupon he pos­sessing the persons of King, Queen, and Dolphin, who were wholly gover­ned by such as had dependance on them, did not doubt utterly to defeat his enemies. Those of Orleans did the first hostile act: They held many places in Picardy, kept by their garrisons, as most exposed to the frontiers of the enemy: but not being thereby so strong as was requisite, they en­deavoured by the meanes of Clignet of Brabant to surprise Retell, and Bapomus; an enterprise of great consequence if it had succeded. Berry this meane while pretended, at least seemed to be a neuter; the Queen be­ing at Melune, he went thither to come along with her to Paris: but the Parisians thinking him to be no friend to Burgundy, forewarned him not to come, and the more to witnesse their dislike of him, they broke all the windowes and doores of his house, making it unfit for him to come into. The which being done, they recalled the Queene, they likewise broke the bridges which were upon the Scene, to hinder the passage of the Or­leanists; and brought the King from Saint Pauls to the Louvre, keeping a good guard about him, to the end he might not be by them surprised, and taken away: so as this infirme afflicted Prince was made a very image by those that kept him and the regall authority was made a cloake to cover the passions of such as did possesse him. All which things doe cleerely shew us, that nature hath not indued the common people with the vertue [Page 92] of mediocrity, so as they terrifie where they are not kept in awe; pretend to governe if not governed, and where the scepter keeps them not within their bounds, they will use their free will. But it being no time now to temporise, and the King not able of himselfe to end the differences or in­force obedience upon two strong factions; it behoved him to doe amisse, to shunne doing worse, to joine with one of them; and not able for want of forces to chuse whether, to accept of that side which he could not re­fuse: for it much availed him to keepe soveraignty still on foote (though but permitted) by the helpe of one of the factions: for it might fall out, that the one faction being defeated might so weaken the other, that the regall forces might prove the master strength. All fit considerations, but in this case deceitfull. Factions which are favoured by the people (as was this of Burgundy) not being easily suppressed, the Nobility were by the King commanded to side against the three brothers; so as their affaires being by regall favour abandoned, their hopes were very small: and the Duke of Burgundy being sent for by the Dolphin, his sonne in law, came into France with 50000. fighting men, drawne out of his commons in Flanders; who freer then becomes a free Prince to suffer, would not serve him unlesse conditionally; as, that their time of service might be limited, and that all such prey as they should make, should be their own; an evident proofe that they went rather to pillage then do service: with these sort of people (after he had taken all the Townes that were upon the Soame, from whence all their garrisons fled, having made experience of their cruelty by the example of those of Ham) he encamped, himselfe under Mondedier, where the enemy was encamped, with intention of giving him battell, and whilest he thought to order his troopes (being assured of the victory by reason of his advantages) the Dutchmen having fired their huts, and being loaded with prey and prisoners, returned home; alled­ging that their time of service was expired; nor was it in his power, by intreaties or faire promises, to detaine them one day longer. Hee was moreover inforced to give them his brother for their guide, till such time as they should come into a safe abode, whilst hee himselfe, with those few which remained with him, retired to Perona.

The Orleanists who were resolved to fight, seeing him gone, went towards Paris to endeavour an entrance into the Towne, that they might possesse themselves of the Kings person, without which all their actions (though never so just) were subject to perpetuall blame, for the Princes presence in civill dissentions, is onely able to justifie injustice, and make a fault meritorious; but it was impossile for them to enter the Towne, for the hatred the inhabitants bore unto their father was not buried with him. They had better successe in Saint Denis, a Towne not above two little leagues distant; where getting leave to come in, they fortified them­selves; receiving thereby much commodity to fight with the Parisians. The Duke of Burgundy being during this time gone to Arras, found there Thomas Earle of Arundell, together with Sir Gilbert and Sir Robert Vmfreville, and Sir Iohn Gray, who had brought unto him 1200. Archers, sent unto him by King Henry. They had made a confederacy upon hopes of a marriage betweene a daughter of the Dukes, and the Prince of Wales: with these and some 6000. more of his owne men, he went to [Page 93] Pontoise, where he stayed, to augment his army; which he easily might doe: for the King having a few dayes before proclaimed the Dukes of Berry, Orleans, and Burbon, the Counts of Vertu, Angolesme, Alanson, and Arminiack, all to bee traytors, Charles Albret likewise and all adhe­rents, the souldiers forsooke them; of those that fled unto him the Count Pontiure brother to the Duke of Britany his sonne in law, was one: having assembled such people as he desired, he came with 15000. horse to Paris, and was met by his brother the Count de Nevers, by the City, by the Councell, and at his entrance into the Louvre by the Dolphin his son in law. Having allowed his souldiers a little rest, he sallied forth one night, and recovered Saint Claude, which had beene taken by the Orleanists: in which enterprise they used so much slaughter, as that the Orleanists were likewise forced to quit Saint Denis; going away by night with in­tention to returne when they should bee reinforced. All that were taken prisoners were put to death; and the dead were left for food to the fowles of the aire, for no man offered to bury them, they being by Pope Vrbans Bull excommunicated.

The Duke now thinking he had no more enemies to molest him, and 1412 that consequently he stood in no more need of the English, he discharged them, to the much amazement of King Henry, who beleeved him to be a man of greater judgement then this action shewed him to be: for he ought to have detained them, had it onely been to have obliged Henry unto him, and to have diverted him from joining with his enemies, as he after­wards did; which he had not done, had he not beene free of him. The Orleanists had lost many strengths, so as being reduced to extremities, not able to subsist of themselves, they threw themselves into the protecti­on of the King of England, who willingly embraced their offers, which very advantagious to him, the articles of what they offered and of his pro­tection were these.

The Dukes of Berry, Orleans, and Burbon, the Counts of Alanson, and Arminiacke, the Lord Albret and their adherents, did offer for ever hereafter to expose their persons, goods, and forces, to the service of their King of England, of his heires, and successors, in all his just clames, as oft as they should berequired; by those words his just claimes they inten­ded, his claime unto the Dutchie of Guenne, and the appertenances thereof; and that the said Dutchy did by right of inheritance, and natu­rall succession belong unto him, declaring that they did not staine their loyalty by assisting of him in that affaire.

They offered their sonnes, and daughters, nephewes, and neeces, pa­rents, allies, and subjects, to bee married according to the good will and pleasure of the forenamed King.

They offered their Cities, Castles and Treasures, and all their goods, in the aide of him, his heires and successors, in his pretentions and claimes; their loyalty alwaies preserved; as was afterwards declared in letters written, and signed apart.

They offered to serve him with all their friends, kindred, and ad­herents in his pretentions unto, and in the restitution of the said Dutchy of Guenne.

They did acknowledge that the said Dutchy did belong unto the King [Page 94] of England: and that he ought to enjoy it with the same prerogatives, as any of his predecessors had done.

They acknowledge that as many Cities, Castles and Strengths as they were masters of in the said Dutchy, they held them all of the King of England, as being the true Duke of Guienne, offering to doe him homage in most obsequious manner.

They promised to give and surrender up into the hands of the King of England, as much as in them lay, all the Cities and Castles which be­longed to the Crowne, to the number of twenty, as in other letters drawn to this purpose was declared.

For the other Cities and Forts which were not in their hands, they promised to buy them out at their owne proper cost and charges, and to assist the King of England, and his heires with a sufficient number of men.

It was declared to be the King of Englands pleasure (as in other letters signed apart) that the Duke of Berry, his loyall Uncle, subject, and vassall, the Duke of Orleans his subject and vassall, and Count Arminiacke should hold of him in fee and homage the underwritten Townes and Lordships. The Duke, of Berry the County of Poictou, during his life: The Duke of Orleans, the County of Angolesme during his life, and Perigord for ever: Count Arminiacke, the foure Castles named in the aforesaid letters, upon condition and security therein declared.

That moreover the King of England and Duke of Guienne should succour and defend them all, against all, as their true Soveraigne Lord; and in particular, that he should helpe them to get due justice done upon the Duke of Burgundy.

That he should not make any confederacy or accord with the Duke of Burgundy, his sonnes, brothers, kindred and confederates, without the consent of the said Lords.

That he should assist them as his vassalls in any just quarrells, especially in receiving satisfaction for the losse and injuries received by the Duke of Burgundy, and his confederates.

That for the present hee should send 8000. men to assist them against the said Duke, who did all he could to incite the King of France, and his forces against them.

These Articles were signed with a caution that they were to pay the souldiers which the King should send; the which being taken into pay he gave the charge of them to Thomas his second sonne, who was for­merly created Duke, together with his other two sonnes, and his brother the Earle of Dorset. Thomas was made Duke of Clarence, Iohn of Bed­ford, Humfrey of Gloster, and Dorset of Exceter. He gave likewise or­der to those who governed under him in Picardy, to wage warre there, the which they did. Whereupon the King of France, (who was then at Sens, ready to passe into the Dutchy of Berry with an army) gave order to the Count Saint Paul to make thitherward, with as many people as he could get; the which he did, not more out of obedience, then out of the mortall hatred he bore to Henry: but little good came hereof, fortune being alwaies averse unto him in those expeditions. At his first arrivall, the English retired to Bullin. The Count resolved to set upon Guines, and to free himselfe from further troubles: the Towne was onely strong [Page 95] by reason of the Castle. Its greatest strength was the Palissadoe and the ditch: he hoped to take it by keeping it from being relieved from Caleis. He planted himselfe by night betweene the two Forts with 600. horse, giving an assault upon breake of day: the battell was very sharpe, neither side failing in their duties; but their forces not sufficing the assaliants, thought to helpe themselves by fire; in one instant 40. houses were seene to blaze. The defendants set upon both by sword and fire, got into the Castle, from whence they powred downe darts and stones: so as the winning of the Towne not sufficient to compleat the victory, and the Castle not being to be wonne by assault, they retired, many of them be­ing hurt, but few slaine, as saith Monstrelet. The King in this interim was gone from Sens, and having taken some Townes which lay in his way, went to encampe himselfe under Burges, where the confederates were. In his campe of all sorts, and for all services, were 100000. horse. The Duke of Berry, the more to incommodate the assaliants, had caused all houses and Churches which were neere the wall, to be beaten down; and if some few remained unpulled downe, they were not priviledged: for the insolences of souldiers, servants, and freebooters is not to be ter­med military, but rather voide of humanity and religion; a lamentable thing to any one who is not blinded with passion, as was the Duke of Burgony. The Dolphin duly considered all these discords, it greeved him that a City of such consequence, the Metropolitan of two Provinces, Auvergne, and Berry, should bee ruinated out of private humours; and that it should be defaced and destroied, since it was one day to be his; so as remooving the campe, after a months siege, he commanded the can­noniers upon paine of life not to shoote one shot more without his com­mand. At which the Duke of Burgony being troubled, beleeving that he had compassion on his enemies, did what he could to perswade him, that violence was the onely meanes to reduce rebells to obedience: But being severely answered, that too much had already beene done, and that it was time to forbeare, those who desired an agreement, were much en­couraged, and concluded an agreement upon these conditions; That the peace at Shartres should remaine in its vigour and force; that the Count Vertu should marry the daughter of the Duke of Burgony; that the Duke of Berry and his confederates should surrender up all such Cities, and o­ther places as the King should desire; that he should renounce all confe­deracies, as well at home as forreiny, made against the Duke of Burgony; that the King should restore all their Cities and strong holds, not obli­ged to repaire what was demolished; that their officers and servants should be readmitted into their offices and possessions. And because the brothers of Orleans were not present, their Agents promised for them. The peace being sworne and proclaimed, command under paine of great punishment was made, that the two factious names of Burgonians and Arminiackes should be no more used. The Orleanists were so called: for when Count Arminiack joyned with them, his people and all that facti­on were by the common people called by this name. This businesse be­ing for this time thus still'd, the King went to Auxerres, whither the Duke of Orleans and his brother the Count Vertu came. They then swore the peace; they renounced all confederacy with England; they accepted of [Page 96] the above said marriage, and shewed tokens of reciprocall good will, in­somuch that the two enemy Dukes were seen to ride upon one & the self same horse: Their former charges were to some restored. But Count Saint Paul would not surrender up the Constables place. Whereupon the Lord Albret withdrew himselfe ill satisfied from the Court. This peace was agreed upon before the English landed in France, which was wisely foreseene by the Dolphin: for agreement would not so easily have beene made, if both the Nations joyned together had tasted the sweetes of any fortunate successe. Their arrivall was first heard of in Normandy; next in the parts neere Constantina, from thence in du Mayne, and from thence in Touraine: all which places suffered such in­conveniences as are usually caused by enemies. Souldiers were every where raised, whilst they onely desired to be payed, the onely meanes to make them returne home. But the Dukes of Berry and Orleans were so exhausted, as they knew not how nor where to raise 200000. Crowns which they ought them. The King of Sicily left the Court, and went to defend his Countrey of Aniou from their incursions. The Earles of Warwicke & of Kent, arrived at the same time with 2000. men at Caleis; who taking the garrisons of that Towne to them, scoured over all the Countrey of Bullen, and the parts adjacent; and although the Counts Saint Pauls, Ramburres, and others, came thither with great numbers of men, they were rather a greevance, then a helpe to the poore people of those parts, who suffered such harme by them, as they could not doe by the enemy. The King being come to Paris, the Dukes of Berry, and of Orleans, remained with the Queen at the Bois de Saint Vincennes: from whence waiting upon her to Paris, Orleans (not entring into the Towne) passed into the Country of Beaumont to raise monies. And though all other places were restored to him, yet could he by no meanes get repos­session of Perefont and Cousie, the which were held by the Count Saint Paul, who denied to surrender them without a great summe of money, due (as he said) to the garrisons there. Pretences are never wanting where men proceede not with cleare intentions: but being necessitated to acquit himselfe of the Duke of Clarence, he set aside all other affaires; and not able to pay unto him the whole debt, he assigned over unto him in pawne for 209000. francks which remained due to him, his brother the Count of Angolesme, (who was great grandfather to Francis the first) and some other Lords, who being brought into England remained there divers yeares for lacke of ransome. This being done, he sent un­to the King for the restitution of the aforesaid places; and obtained let­ters and directions to that purpose; yet were they not delivered up unto him: moreover fire breaking forth in Perefont it was almost burnt to the ground. To this distaste others were added. The Duke of Burgundy caused Bordinus of Saligni, formerly his favourite, to be carried prisoner into Flanders, suspecting that he had revealed some of his secrets. The bastard of Burbon ran a danger in Paris, the City rising up against him in favour of certaine insolences committed by a butcher. Offices which were to be restored, were not, so as the conditions of peace thus ill ob­served, men rather inclined to breake it againe, then to see it thus un­worthily peeced. The Dolphin who well weighed these alterations, [Page 97] grew somewhat coole towards his father in law, the rather for that hee was continually sollicited by the Dukes of Bar, and Bavieres, and by the Count Vertu, to take the government wholly upon himselfe, and free himselfe from the servitude of being directed by others.

These broiles grew to no ripenesse during Henries life, and had they ripened, he perchance would not have delighted in them, for hee had 1413 changed his thoughts, and was returned to the same inclinations of na­ture wherewith he was borne: for having reduced his Kingdome to quiet condition, having no more occasion of being bloudy or detested, his a­ctions were growne to that degree of temperance, as there remained no­thing more to be desired in him. Justice was administred without distin­ction of persons: He was affable, liberall, courteous and pious; so as the Nobility and Commonalty did now as much love, as they had former­ly hated him, and having set his thoughts wholly upon God, he resolved to spend the remainder of his life in his service, in the recovery of the ho­ly land: judging all other warfare misbecomming a Christian Prince: He had no impediments likely to disturbe him from his resolution: hee was free from the affaires of France, which he esteemed quieted by reason of the last peace, a peace not likely to prejudice him: that Kingdome being so divided within it selfe, as it could not hurt him; his owne Kingdome was so well united as hee had no reason of feare there. The occasions of former seditions were ceased, by the losse of their lives who were the chiefe occasioners thereof: all ill humours were appeased by the death of such as were the raisers of them. He had foure sonnes all of them of great hopes. Scotland had no King. The Duke of Aubenge to main­taine himselfe in the government was forced to peacefull resolutions. Wales was exhausted, and Glendor dead: so as having made great prepa­ration of Ships, Gallies, and Treasure, he thought suddenly to embarke himselfe, when strucke with a sudden Apoplexy, he was forced to take a further journey. I beleeve that this his devotion touching Jerusalem was occasioned by a preceding prophesie, (if it be true that is said) that hee should die in Jerusalem: for being taken with this sicknesse in the Abbey at Westminster, and carried into the Abbots next house, as soone as hee was come unto himselfe, he enquired where he was and if that chamber wherein he was had any particular name: Answer was made that he was in the Abbots house, and that the chamber wherein he was, was called Jerusalem: Here said he must I die: he was put to bed, and his Crowne set upon a little table by the bed side: His sicknesse continuing, and sezed by a violent syncope, all men thought he had been dead. The Prince thinking so likewise, tooke the Crowne and withdrew himselfe into another chamber: but shortly after he came to himselfe againe, when missing his Crowne, and being told that the Prince had taken it away, he caused him be sent for, and asked him how he durst bee so bold as to take that which did not belong unto him? Sir (replied the Prince forthwith) I know the Crowne is none of mine so long as you live, and may your Majesty live long to weare it: but all wee who are here did thinke verily you were dead, and I being your eldest sonne, and consequently your heire, took it as the chiefe thing of mine inheritance. To the which words, the King (fetching a deepe sigh) replied, you say well my sonne: [Page 98] but for what concernes the Crowne, God knowes, with what right I have enjoyed it. Be it as it will (replied the Prince) you got it by the sword, and by the sword will I maintaine it. The King more satisfied with his sonnes noble resolution, then with his reason, recommended him to the protection of the Almighty, and having given him good exhortations how to live well, he died the 20. of March, Ann [...] Domini, 1413. He reig­ned 13. yeares and a halfe wanting five dayes. He was not borne a King, but did deserve to die one.

The end of the Second Booke.

THE CIVILL VVARRES OF ENGLAND; IN THE LIFE OF HENRY the Fifth.
The third Booke.

NO Prince was ever borne who did better deceive the Henry the 5. common opinion held of him, then did Henry the fifth. For being in his youth given to much de­boychery, it was thought that when hee should come unto the Crowne, hee would have proved one of the most wicked Kings that ever ruled in England. In his valour and daring hee deceived none, but was therein alwayes the same: But such qualities, the more they doe increase the hopes of good in a Prince of hopefull expectation, the more doe they increase the feares of evill in a Prince from whom nothing of good is expected. What is vertue in the one, is vice in the other; from which, as if illegitimate, cruelty, neglect and tyranny do proceed. Henry was born the yeare 1388. Mary the daugh­ter of Humfrey Bohun, Earle of Hereford and Northampton, high Con­stable of England, was his mother: the King his father being then but Earle of Derby. Hee was first brought up at Oxford, where under the tuition of his uncle Henry Bewfort, Chancellor of that University, and af­terwards Bishop and Cardinall: he grew up in learning, wherein he gave signes of a good disposition, by putting an esteeme upon learned men; in­somuch as when he came to be King, he made Thomas Rodban, a famous Astronomer in those dayes, Bishop of Saint Davids, and Iohn Carpenter a [Page 100] learned Divine, Bishop of Worcester, having knowne them both, whilst he lived in the University. In the twelfth yeare of his age, when his fa­ther came to the Crowne, hee called him from his studies, giving the Earle of Worcester to him for Governour: who rebelling foure yeares after, together with his brother and nephew, affoorded him occasion of shewing his valour in battell against them: Where hee so bravely beha­ved himselfe, as being hurt, hee would not quit the field, though hee was much importuned so to do by those that had the charge of him. After commanded by his father to pursue Owen Glendor in Wales, hee forced him (as some say) to dye of meere hunger. By which actions having pre­maturely obtained the priviledge of being man, and freed himselfe from the superintendencie of others, he was at his owne disposall, guided by passions which sprung from the heat of bloud; the which in a valiant da­ring Prince (as was he) produced in the subjects, feare; and in the father jealousie: although the relation between father and sonne, ought to bee composed of lesser jealousie then any other relation of friendship. But this is not to be wondred at: for being borne to egregious acts, and his naturall inclinations accordingly framed, erring, hee could not erre in a meane degree, or medium: mediocrity being an equall enemy to great wits, as well in good as bad. Whence it happens, that changing humours, from best, they become worst; and from extraordinarily bad, excee­ding good. His deboystnesse though were not such as are common to youth, nor subject to such desires as effeminating the minde, and dissinew­ing the strength, have brought many Princes to misery, and to be inward­ly hated by their subjects; but certaine sprightly extravagancies caused by the incitations of his martiall nature, which not knowing in those yeares how to employ it selfe, chused lewd wayes of imployment. A­mongst the pure seeds of vertue which were in him, were certaine graines of Darnell, which did almost at the same time bud, and become barren. He took delight to lye lurking in high wayes, to steale from himselfe: for observing the times that his tenants were to bring him home his rents, hee would set upon them; yea sometimes to the danger of his life; making them make good in their accounts as much as had been stolne from them: neither could they defraud him; for he himselfe knew best how much they had lost. And it they chanced to hurt or evill treat him, hee liked them the better. Businesses which in England undergoe death, are redu­ced to two heads: Felony & Treason. The last hath respect to the Princes person, and such things as doe depend thereon. The other regards civill affairs, as man-slaughter, theft, and such like. It so fell out, that one of his servants that used to accompany him in such like exploits, was taken for felony: he came post to London to save him; and finding that at the ve­ry instant he was carried to the Kings Bench barre to be condemned, hee himselfe went thither, and commanded the Goalers to take off his irons, and set him at liberty. The Lord chiefe Justice, who at his comming had not stirred from his seat, wished him to remember, that that was the seat of his father, King and Soveraigne: That his authority was not yet such as might force the freedome of the Prisoner. Not that hee did not know him to be Prince, and the Kings eldest sonne, an high and powerfull qua­lity, but of no consequence in a businesse of this nature, it being impossible [Page 101] for him to take from the hand of justice, to the breach of the Law, one who was condemned to die, and more impossible for himselfe to give way thereunto: he told him therefore he should doe well to goe the usuall way of obtaining pardon from the King.

The Prince impatient of contradiction, and who was naturally given to blows, insomuch as he would disguise himselfe to seek occasion for them, gave the Judge such a cuffe in the ear, as would have stunned any one who had beene lesse resolute then he: but the Judge neither frighted with the blow, nor losing his former gravity, said unto him, That the misery done unto him sitting on that seate, was an offence done unto the King, to whom, & to whose Laws, he the Prince was doubly obliged; as a subject, and as a son. That though the offence was great in it self. yet was it grea­ter in his person, and of more dangerous consequence: for when he should be King, he was not likely to finde any subject that would obey him, nor Judge that would execute those Laws which he should enact, if he should permit his sonne and heire to violate them, as it seemed he presumed the King his father would permit him to do: that therefore to the end so e­normous an example, might not be alledged for an example, as not puni­shed, he did in his Majesties name commit him to the prison appropriated to that bench, during his Majesties pleasure. The lookers on, who were somewhat scandalized, and surprised at the Princes action, and the Jud­ges boldnesse, wondred when they saw the Prince blush for shame, and yeeld himselfe prisoner. The King who equally commended his sonnes obedience, and the Judges integrity, for this and other his misde­meanours, suffered him to tarry a good while in prison; and the more to humble him, excluded him from the Councell table, and made his bro­ther the Duke of Clarence President thereof. But shortly being set at li­berty, he betooke himselfe to his former fashions; insomuch as his house being frequented by many great men, and such as were most refracto­ry, his father apprehended danger of an insurrection in him, a suspition fomented by such as know not how otherwise to winne the Kings favour but by backbiting, nor better how to make use of their flattery, then by a fained zeal of their safeties, (the which the more detestable it is, the more dangerous is it for such as are innocent) as likewise by his owne remorse of conscience, which objected unto him his usurping the Crowne, the mischiefes, miseries, and so many deaths which had thereon ensued: all which might open the way to any one, much more to his sonne, (his pre­sumed and declared heire) to bereave him of his Crowne. And though the reasons of aspiring thereunto, were no better then those he had made use of to atchieve it, yet the detestation of things past which had respect onely to him, made him thinke it feasable. And his unjust jealousies falsly grounded upon the Prince his ill nature, seemed unto him conso­nant to reason, when they represented unto him the true reasons of his owne misdeserts: and since no love can be there where feare is, the signes of his hatred conceived against some, were soone discovered by all men; but he who set his private deboycheries aside, never imagined any thing of evill, neither against his father nor the State, being advised by some of the privy Councell that loved him, what ill offices were done him, resol­ved to justifie himselfe: the which he did in the most strange and oddest [Page 102] manner that was ever heard of. He was cloathed in a sute of skie colou­red sattin, all full of oylet holes, and every oylet hole had a needle hang­ing at a peece of silke of the same it was wrought withall: He had upon one of his armes, a masty dogges collar, studded thus S. S. which were of massy gold, with buckles of the same. What he thereby intended I know not, nor have I met with any who doth explane the Allegory. He was attended on by a great many, whereof some were Peers, the rest of the best families of the land. Being come to Court, he left the most part of his followers in the great Hall, with directions that they should come no further then the chimney, attended on onely by such as did belong unto the Court; hee did at unawares present himselfe before the King, who through his infirmities had almost lost the use of his legges. He would have spoken unto him at his first arrivall, as he had formerly beg­ged leave to doe: but the King considering the extravagancy of his habit, and not able to make any good interpretation thereof, caused himselfe to be carried into a more inward roome, followed by such Lords as casu­ally were at that time about him: the which I thinke he rather did to gain time to thinke upon the businesse, then for any feare he had: when his chaire was set downe, the Prince kneeling downe before him, said these or the like words, That the generally spread rumour of some evill im­pressions his Majesties had of him, caused by some who had deciphered him unto his Majesty as one that had some plots upon the Crowne and State, had forced him thus to present himselfe, to the end that hee might receive such resolutions from him as might seeme fittest for his service: That his past behaviour had beene very bad, he did confesse, for he would not deny a truth: but since truth did permit him to gainesay those things which were now objected unto him, he did deny them, for he could not affirm a falshood. That his obligations unto his Majesty, were greater then were those of his other subjects; so as where he should have deserved the highest punishment if he should have offended him as a pri­vate subject, no sufficient punishment could be invented for him, if being his sonne, he should together with the Lawes of God and man, have vio­lated the Lawes of nature. That worldly Lawes being grounded upon punishment, and fear, and the Laws of nature grounded onely upon love, he deserved not to have any share in the world, who (destitute of love) should abuse the subsistance and constitution of nature. That therefore if there were neither Law humane nor divine, this onely Law of nature would bee sufficient to make him be the most detested creature in the world, if he should not with sincere love, reverence▪ and with reverend respect love his Majesty his gracious father: The which he did not say to justifie, but rather to condemne himself, if he should be arrived at such a height of wickednesse, as not to detest the unspeakable wickednes, which never having entred his breast, was by the malice of his accusers, hellishly invented against him. That though it were an easie matter to convince them, since they could never prove what he never dreampt of, yet he was not come for that purpose. That he did present himselfe as guilty, since he was declared to be such, not by his owne conscience, but by his Ma­jesties deluded opinion: that therefore since it was impossible for him to live without insufferable anguish of mind, being subject to such suspitions, [Page 103] hee beseeched his Majesty to free him from further vexation with this weapon. Then presenting unto him a dagger by the point, hee added, That he would willingly suffer death, if it might cause such quiet unto his Majesty, as his Majesty did beleeve. That hee should not hold his hand out of any consideration of his soule, for he had begged mercy of God, and taken his Christian viaticum; much lesse out of fear, that this might be imputed as a sinne unto his Majesty, for being already satisfied of the hu­mane justice in punishing a guilty person worthy of whatsoever chastise­ment, for what concerned divine justice, he did promise him (in the pre­sence of those Lords who were by) to be his advocate before the Tribu­nall of the supreame Judge, in that fearefull and terrible day when the se­crets of all hearts being knowne, his Majesty and himselfe, in the chariot of his innocency, should triumph over the calumnies of other men. The speech being ended, the King threw away the dagger, and with teares of joy imbraced and kissed him, and confessed he had done amisse in belee­ving otherwise of him then he ought to have done. Hee assured him that for the time to come, hee would be deafe to all such as should dare to speake against him. But the Prince not herewithall contented, humbly beseeched his Majesty to bring his accusers to the test, that either they or he might receive condigne punishment. The King satisfied in the inno­cency of his sonne, and unwilling that those who were zealously his, should be punished, appeased his sonne, saying, that since this businesse was to be judged by the Peers of the Land, nothing could be done there­in till the next Parliament, and that then he should receive such satisfacti­on, as he justly did demand. Then sweetning him with intreaties, and faire speeches, he made him quit his request, and kept him in his good opinion as long as hee lived. These and the like actions generally held dissolute, afforded reason of bad presages, as hath beene formerly said, But assoone as he put on the Crowne, he turned another leafe, and be­came excellent in all such vertues as make a Prince famous in peace, and redoubted in warre. A change by how much the more rare, the more ad­mired, since thereby the worst of men doe prove the best, and types of vertue. He first of all like a good husband purged his house of all unclean­nesse, and not content to have swept from thence all his deboisht compa­nions he did not onely forbid them his sight, and further company, but banished them from comming within tenne miles of the Court. He put in their places persons of exemplary lives. Hee placed in his seates of Justice, and in his Councell, men worthy of such trust, and joyning piety to his policy, he founded Monasteries, and brought the body of Richard the second, from an obscure sepulchre in Langley, to Westminster, where he caused him with regall pompe to bee put in a tombe built at his owne charge, and Lady Anne of Bohemia his first wife, by him. He sent Em­bassadours and Bishops to Constantia, to endeavour in that Councell an end of the Schisme which had then a long time lasted; and where not long after in stead of three Popes, who reigned altogether, Martin the fifth was chosen Pope, to the great joy of all Christendome. He refer­red the Lord Cobham who was accused of herefie, to the Ecclesiasticall Courts, having given him friendly admonitions (for he had formerly lo­ved him by reason of his valour) from whence being committed over to [Page 104] secular Jurisdiction, he was to have received his last punishment, had hee not by some of his friends beene secretly conveyed out of the Tower. But that which for the present befell not him, happened to divers others, for many of his opinion having seditiously assembled themselves, and accused of conspiracy, so many of them were taken, as the prisons were not able to containe them, and nine and twenty of the chiefest of them (where one was a Priest) were put to death; the like befalling himselfe foure yeares after, who was taken about the borders of Wales, and hang'd and burnt. He restored Henry Percy, sonne to Henry hot spurre, to his Lands & Honour, having sent for him back from Scotland, whither he was for safety sent in the downfall of his family, hee thought it not fit that so noble bloud should suffer punishment in the person of a child, who being of so innocent yeares, ought not to partake of his fore-fathers faults. It was easie for him to restore unto him his lands, which the King his fa­ther had given to Iohn his third sonne, whom hee recompenced with an equivalent revenue. Thus he ended the first yeare of his reigne, in the beginning whereof the Duke of Clarence, who was then in Aquitany, hearing of his fathers death, returned home to England, and brought a­long with him Iohn Count of Angolesme, together with the other ho­stages assigned over for the Duke of Orleans debt, and was by the King received with a brotherly affection.

The Clergy had been practised upon in King Henry the fourths time, by reason of their great revenues, as being superfluously larger then was requisite for them. In the eleventh year of his reigne mention was made in Parliament that they would have been cause of much scandall if the ci­vill warres had not been. The warres being at this present at an end, and mens mindes more eager of this then formerly, it was thought good not to lose the opportunity of time: For since the King was addicted to war, it behoved him to raise unto himselfe a permanent revenue, to the satisfaction of the whole Kingdome. A calculation was made, that leaving to the Clergy what was sufficient for them, the over-plus of their reve­nues was sufficient to maintaine fifteene Earles, fifteene hundred Knights, six thousand two hundred Gentlemen, and an hundred Hospi­talls, besides twenty thousand pound a yeare reserved for the Kings Ex­chequer; which twenty thousand pound was more then, then an hundred thousand pound would now be. A calculation, which whether true or false, proved a true danger to the Clergy. The remedy was easie, the combination being generall, the advantage common to all: for the King, Nobility and Commonalty were to share in what was to bee taken from them. A Parliament was called at Leicester, wherein they were threat­ned. They thought to eschew the blow by making some great offer; but if it should not be accepted of, (for bee it what they pleased, it must bee much inferior to what was expected from them) they ran a hazard of defamation; as corrupters of the Prince, and so to lose together with their wealth, their reputation, which in so great a losse ought to bee kept unspotted for the dignity of their profession, and not to give a colour of reason to the wrong they were to receive. Every one thought the Kings warlike inclination would bee the Canon which should batter them to pieces; but hee not having as yet made choyce of an enemy (warre with [Page 105] France would be of a vaste expence; Scotland was neerer hand, and ea­sier to bee invaded, Iames the first their King being prisoner in England) they thought that his pretentions to the Crowne of France, as most pro­portionate to the greatnesse of his minde would serve for an argument, and that by perswading him to that enterprise, they should stay the proposition which was to be made against them. The Parliament being met, the Archbishop of Canterbury, a Chertosin Monke, failed not in a well ordered speech opportunely to propound it: his principall heads were, the equity of his Majesties pretentions, the honour of the King, the reputation of the State, and the occasions now offered of making it feasable, by reason of the troubles that Kingdome was in. In the first he shewed how the King was the naturall ancient heire of Normandy, An­gier, Poictou, Umena, and Gascony, of all which he now possessed one­ly a little part of Gascony. That being heire to Edward the third, hee was likewise heire to France, otherwise the title which he thereof assu­med would be unjust. He declamed against the Salique Law, as invented in those dayes, onely to exclude England, no mention being made there­of in Chronicles or other memorialls; but since I cannot give you the very words, the story necessary requires me to shew you the Law in a rough draught, to the end that you may examine the late undertakings of Edward the third, or the present ones of this Henry against that Kingdome, be justifiable or no.

Edward the second, King of England, married Isabell, daughter to Philip the faire King of France. Philip, besides this his daughter Isabell, left three sonnes, Lewis Hutin, Philip the long, and Charles the faire: all which reigned Kings one after another; and though Lewis left a daughter named Iane, and his wife with child of a sonne (which soone after dyed) and that Odone Duke of Burgony Uncle by the mother side to Iane, did what in him lay to make her succeede unto her father; yet Philip the long her Uncle (who was crowned in Rheims whilst armed, and the gates shut) having then foure daughters, did by marriage appease those Princes who did oppose him; giving his eldest daughter to this Duke of Burgony, together with the County of Burgony (the which by her mother did be­long to the said Iane) and to Lewis Count of Eureux (the most pote [...] Prince of all the adversaries) hee gave the same Iane, and for her portion the Kingdome of Navarre, the County of Brye, and Shampania, so as the businesse thus layed asleepe, and he afterwards dying, Charles suc­ceeded him, not interrupted by Iane, since her giving way to her other Uncle, passed as a ruled case. Charles dyed, leaving his wife with child; Edward the third, King of England, who was neerest of bloud, as borne of Isabell, sister to these three Kings, pretended to the regency, in case the child the Queen went withall should live, if otherwise, to the Crown: On the other side, Philip Count of Vallois, sonne to Ch [...]rles, who was brother to Philip the faire, made the like pretence, as neerest heire male, alledging that the Law Salique which did exclude the women, did like­wise exclude such sonnes as were by them borne. Whereupon the three States gathered together, Philip got the regencie, and the Queen Dowager bringing but a daughter, the Kingdome. Edward alledged in his behalfe, that this law was never knowne till then, and then invented [Page 106] to defraude him of succession, no mention being made thereof in the memory of man, nor by any whatsoever ancient Authentique writer. That to give it a being when it had none, and cause it to rise up in one night like a mushrome, was likely not onely not to give it a subsistence, but also to make it not to be credited. That hee did not deny the succes­sion of the male in all times past, but that the succession of the female sex had not hapned to the Crowne till these present times. That the re­linquishment made by Iane to her owne prejudice, and pursued without his consent or knowledge, ought not to prejudice him, nor ought it be concluded that shee having laide aside her claime to the prejudice of a third, the third should likewise quit his claime to the prejudice of suc­cession. That she had yeelded by force, being doubly betrayed by her Uncle, that he mig [...]t usurpe the Country of Burgony; and by her hus­band that he might make himselfe King of Navarre: both of them being contented with the certainty of this gaine, the hopes which they might promise unto themselves by warre, being uncertaine and of lesse account. That if the Law were fundamentall (as they would have it beleeved to be) it would not have beene violated in the two first races. That in the first 1. race, the French writers made a doubt whether Morevius were the sonne of Claudian or not, and that if he were not his son, it is to be beleeved (say they) that hee was his next a kin; which is as much as to conjecture the one, and doubt of the other. They affirme him to have succeeded not so much by vertue of the Lawes, as by the free election of the States, not being aware that the terme free election doth contradict the Law Salique, it being impossible that there should bee any sort of election (much lesse free) where the Lawes doe determine an undoubted successour, otherwise one of two inconveniencies would necessarily ensue, either that the ele­ction should annull the Law, or the Law make the election superfluous, the next in bloud (all others excluded) being by the Law without electi­on appointed to the Crowne. That it cannot be denyed that when Childe­ricus 2. was driven out of the Kingdome, Aegidius a Citizen of Rome was chosen King, and that his sonne Siagrius, after the death of Childericus (who was received as King again) did pretend unto the Crowne by vertue of his fathers election, which he never would have done had there beene such a Law to oppugne him. Clodoveus left foure sonnes, of which one was a bastard; they were all called Kings, not onely of such proportions 3. as was left unto them by their father, but of all France, whilst the Law Salique supposeth but one King, and doth not admit of bastards. Dago­bert left the Crowne of France to Clodoveus the second, his younger son; 4. and to Sigisbert his eldest sonne, the Kingdome of Austracia, without any manner of dispute; whilest that the Law Salique aimes not so much at the exclusion of women, as to the advantage the first borne sonne should have over the younger. The same Sigisbert having no sonnes, adopted 5. the sonne of his Lord Steward, which he never would have done, had there beene any Law Salique.

Dagobert the second left two sonnes behinde him, and yet a Fryer 6. was taken out of a Monastery, and Crowned by the name of Chilpericus the second.

Charles Martellus deposed him, put Dagoberts two sonnes into a 7. and 8. [Page 107] Cloister, and made Coltarius the fourth be Crowned, who being after­wards deposed, the two brothers reigned Kings one after another.

Pipin deposed Childericus, and made himselfe King, though no Prince of the bloud, and come of a bastard. Many other examples are 9 passed over, which happened amongst the Kings of this first race, contrary to this Law, in successions, hereditance, and last wills and Te­staments.

In the second race, Lewis the stammerer, was succeeded by Lewis and 10 Charlemaine, both bastards, and the latter by another Lewis, whether brother or sonne to Charlemaine it is not knowne.

This man was succeeded by Charles the great, King of Bavaria, and 11 Emperour, but being deposed by the Dutch from being Emperour, and by the French from being King, Odone Duke of Angiers, of the house of Saxony was substituted in his place.

Charles the simple being deposed, and his sonne Lewis being together 12 with his mother fled into England, Rowland of Burgony obtained the Crowne.

Lastly Hughe Capet having taken the succession from Charles Duke of 13 Lorraine, second sonne to the last mentioned Lewis, which fled into Eng­land, having thence the name of beyond-sea Lewis, brother to Lotarius, and Uncle to Lewis the fifth, the last King of that race, leaveth it to our choice to thinke what we please of that Law.

No mention is made of any women in these two races, because the case in their behalfe was not met withall: but say the case had been found, and that by reason of the rigorous practice of the Law, women have not dared to pretend unto the Crowne; by the same reason those who had beene excluded would not have dared to have made any such pretence: if the institution of the Law had beene thus put in practice. Neither would Iane daughter to Lewis Hutin, have dared to pretend unto the Crowne, had there been any such thing as the Law Salique. But if there be any argument which proves the falshood of this Law, tis the confusion of writers, who neither agree in the name nor in the author, nor in the place where it was made. A moderne writer will not have it called the Salique, but the Gallique Law. The more ancient writers denominate it from the River Sala, from the latin word Sal, contrary to the putrifa­ction, or from the French word Sale, which is the Hall or Palace of a Prince. Some make the ancient Dukes and Councellors in Germany the authors of it: And some Faramond, in France, so as they leave us nothing of certainty, whereas a fundamentall Law ought to be certaine, and not imaginary in its foundation.

They produce some reasons to justifie this Law, which no waies apper­taine thereunto, whereof three are the chiefest. That the Crowne may be established in its owne Nation, by the exclusion of strangers. That Posthumes may be reverenced even in their mothers wombe, and not­withstanding their infancy, made Kings: and that nature affects the mas­culine inheritance, which was the cause why the Jewes permitted no suc­cession to women. The first reason would surely be good, if together with its utility it were likewise just, if the Law had beene made in the be­ginning of the Monarchy, or in a time when it had not beene to any one [Page 108] injurious, there could be nothing said against it: but being sprung up in an instant, never written nor spoken of before, it becomes very bad, not onely as false but as fained to the prejudice of naturall heires, and the uti­lity thereof proves the injustice, since what is usefull, and what is just, if not alwaies, are for the most part contraries. Lawes were instituted to curbe unhonest utility, which if suffered, there would be no safe com­merce, nor living in the world. The second reason is in part superflu­ous, in part false: superfluous, because yonger brothers, though Post­humes are preferred before their elder sisters, even in those Kingdomes where women do inherit: false, because betweene Lewis the stammerer, and Charles the simple, who was his Posthume, there reigned foure Kings, Lewis and Charlemaine both bastards, another Lewis and Charles the great; which proves it not true that they are made Kings notwithstanding their infancy: The third containes two points, that the masculine inheritance is according to nature, and that the Jewes did never at any time permit inheritance to women: The one and the other false. They confound na­ture, and her institutions, with fortune, and the institutions of civill Laws, taking nature otherwise then she ought to be taken, for she ought to bee considered in her pure principall, not in the accidents which doe accom­pany her: then thus considered, nature cannot (were she thereunto willing) exclude the female sex from inheriting, since shee hath no other forme of government, then what concernes the father of a family: Moreover, wo­men being conceived, borne and brought up as are men, it was never his intent who made them equall in generation, to make them inferiour in conservation; which he should doe, if the goods of fortune (by meanes whereof we live after the introducing of civill Lawes) and the municipall Lawes (whereby they are differently regulated) depended upon nature, so as who doth exclude them, doth it by vertue of these Lawes, as are likewise in divers places excluded, the second borne, though men. That the Jewes did not permit inheritance to women, is likewise false, read the 27. Chapter of Numbers, where you will finde God said unto Moses, The daughters of Zelophead spoke right, and that he should give them a possession of inheritance among their fathers brethren, and that he should speake unto the children of Israel, saying, If a man dye and have no son, then ye shall cause his inheritance to passe unto his daughter; and if hee have no daughter, then ye shall give his inheritance unto his brethren; and if he have no brethren, then ye shall give his inheritance unto his fathers brethren; and if his father have no brethren, then ye shall give his posses­sion unto his kinsman that is next unto him of his family. Moreover, Je­sus Christ was the sonne of David according to the flesh, by the wo­mans side, not the mans. The Archbishop having with these and the like demonstrations, made good the pretence to France, and consequent­ly the warre, he added three examples which argue against the antiqui­ty of this Law. Pepin and Hughe Cappet, to make their usurpation justifi­able, endeavoured to prove their descents, the one from Betilda, daughter to Clotarius the first, the other from Lingarda, daughter to Charlemaine, and Saint Lewis had never peace of minde till such time as he was certifi­ed that Isabell his grandmother by the mothers side; was the lawfull heire of Emendarda, daughter and heire of Charles Duke of Loreine; for being [Page 109] conscious to himself, that the Dukes exclusion from the Crowne, was unjust, he thought himselfe not rightly possessed of the Kingdome, save in the right of his grandmother, upon whom the rights of Charles fell, and consequently upon him, as heire to her. At last hee made his inten­ded offer in generall termes, promising that if the King would resolve up­on this enterprise, the Clergy would give him such contributions, as greater were never given by them to any of his predecessors.

This enterprise, the reasons thereof, and the offer made by the Arch­bishop, did so farre prevaile with the King, as that Ralphe Nevill, Earle of Westmerland, Lord Warden of the Marches, confining upon Scot­land, fearing lest the King would be perswaded thereunto, and that by taking along with him the flower of all the souldiers, small forces would remaine with him to oppose the endeavours of that Kingdome, did thus oppose himselfe to what the Archbishop had said. He confessed the en­terprise to be just and honourable, but dangerous and full of hindrances. He shewed that preposterous proceedings were the overthrow of all un­dertakings, and that to fight with France before that Scotland was sub­dued, was the most preposterous course that could bee taken. That to make triall of fortune in a forreine Estate, whilst the State at home was subject to alterations, was a resolution no waies agreeing with wisedome. That it was to bee beleeved that Scotland that had never let slip any ad­vantagious occasion, would much lesse passe by this so faire a one, presen­ted unto them, by the Kings absence, and the absence of the chiefe of the Chivalry of England. That though it were granted, that Scotland being without a King, and in some sort divided within it selfe, might in likely­hood be carelesse in other affaires, yet would it not neglect this, as not per­mitted so to doe by their ancient confederacy; and when they were not by obligation tyed to this, yet monies, assistance, and chiefly their owne safeties would force them unto it, since it was not to be doubted that the diversion of Scotland being one of Frances chiefest defences, the French would not abandon her: for if she should be lost, or weakend, they them­selves would suffer a great losse, and diminution of strength. Since then her safety, obligation, and so many other severall obligations were in question, upon the which her good or bad did depend, shee would not stand idle: The which being granted, it would necessarily follow, that the one warre would produce the other: with this difference, that France could assist Scotland but in part, whereas Scotland could totally assist her: France could not so fully assist Scotland by reason of her distance, and that her aides would be weakened by pawses and interruptions they might meet with by the way; and that by reason of her infirmities shee was unfit to make a diversion by open warre; that Scotland on the other side was not onely free from these inconveniences, but sure to make an open diversion, notwithstanding whatsoever opposition; so as making warre with Scotland, though she might be strengthened by auxiliary for­ces (which are alwaies hatefull, and full of jealousies) yet one onely war was made, and in France two: for since his Majesty could not passe over the sea without weakning England, it would so fall out, as being infested he must be forced to quit the warre with France, and undertake the other, which at first ought to have beene undertaken: the which could not bee [Page 112] done without the losse not onely of reputation, but of much treasure, which would there bee fruitlesly spent. That the events of warre being doubtfull, the least difficult was to be chosen: so as rather then to thinke of conquering France whilst Scotland might divert them, they should hope to conquer Scotland: if England being free from forreine diversi­ons, should bring all her strength against those parts onely: otherwise she were likely to finde to her cost, that to buckle with an united body, sepa­rated from the sea, of insufferable expence, with a thousand hazards of fortune, sicknesse, windes, deaths, want of victualls, and munition, would prove infinitely dangerous; the rather for that she should leave behinde her an indefatigable warlike enemy; which was not likely to meete with any incommodity (supplies being to be had in every house) not subject to winds, nor tempests, in a time when that Kingdome being without a King, and ill satisfied with the government, she was to be presumed not able to withstand so valorous an undertaking. And if Edward the thirds past victories in France, and those of the blacke Prince his sonne, did ren­der mens mindes confident, let them remember that fortune was fickle, and that those who dreampt that the world was eternall, did not fancy to themselves that all things should returne to their former condition till af­ter the slow revolution of 36000. yeares, he concluded that if England would make a successive warre in France, shee must first conquer Scotland.

These two opinions might have beene ballanced, had it not been for the third Marquis Dorset, the Kings Uncle, which overthrew the latter of the two: This Gentleman was a good Schollar, for the Duke of Lan­caster his father (who thought to have destined him to the Church) had caused him to be brought up to his booke, the which being added to his travells in divers Countries, especially in Italy, had setled his understan­ding, which guided by the two great Masters, speculation and practice, could not chuse but render him perfectly wise; he repeating what had bin alleadged by the Earle, and arguing against the reasons he had brought, shewed that Scotland had the same relation to France, as boughes to the tree: the Nobility of Scotland being maintained by pensions from her, and the yong men thereof bettered by her military discipline, so as to take away the bud, you must cut downe the tree: that give the conquest of Scotland for granted, more difficulties would bee met withall in the keeping of it, then in the defending the borders of England, whilst warre was made elswhere: for Scotland being in some parts inaccessable, in o­ther parts savage, and wholly an enemy, would continually produce some new motions, being incouraged by assistance, and monies from be­yond the seas: That she had never endangered England in former times, upon the like occasions, but had bin sufficiently endamaged. That Malkin was slaine whilst he would make use of William the seconds absence, who went to wage warre in Normandy; and David Bruce was taken prisoner whilst Edward the third was at the siege of Caleis: that it is true the like doth not alwaies happen, but that therefore worse successe should not be feared, whilst the enemies forces are not augmented, nor our own diminished; the which was now so farre from being so, as that they were without a King, and in a molested government, whilst France was in no [Page 111] better estate; for to boote with the warre which would distract her, shee was molested by the infirmity of her head, and the corrupted humours of her principallest members; That France did afford many advantages to whosoever should assault her, as seated in a climate abounding with all good things: whereas the sterility of Scotland afforded nothing but in­conveniences, sufficient to beat backe her assaliants. That England could but for a while keepe footing there, being to be beaten backe by the two urgent peeces of artillery, cold and hunger: That wit and valour would there lose the day, inforced not by problematicall fables, of fatality, and destiny, but by the reall and apparent necessity of nature; since then no in­vasion was to be feared from thence, to what purpose should the enterprise thereof be undertaken, if being subdued it would neither cause lesse peace nor more trouble, then whilst left at liberty warre might be elsewhere made? for being fenced by the situation, sterility, its owne and other forces, it would alwaies afford occasion of beginning afresh, to the end it might never beginne, much lesse ever make an end with others. That therefore to leave the confines well garded, and take in hand what was propounded, was the only resolution now to be taken, as that which alone was conformable to the justice of the cause, the reputation of the King, and the reason of armes, since England should never thinke to subdue Scotland, if she did not first subdue France.

No sooner had the Marquis expressed his reasons, but the Parliament did unanimously agree upon the warre with France, so farre forgetting the businesse of the Clergy, as no man thought any longer of it. The King having created his two brethren Iohn, and Humfrey, Dukes, the one of Bedford, & the other of Gloster, and the forenamed Marquis, Duke of Exeter: following the wonted course of first denouncing war, before the undertaking of it, dispatcht away this last Duke, together with the Ad­mirall Grey, the Archbishop of Dublin, and the Bishop of Norwich, as Embassadors to France, whither they went, accompanied with 600. horse, and were received with great pompe, & royally feasted by King Charles, who finding himselfe then well disposed, would in their presence runne at tilt against the Duke of Alanson. The jollities being over, in solemne audience they demanded of him the restitution of the Crowne, together with such Provinces as did of old belong unto the inheritance of the Kings of England, namely the Dutches of Aquitany, Normandy, and Angius, the Counties of Poictou, and Vinena, with this caution, that if he would give unto King Henry, his daughter Katherine, together with the aforesaid Dutchies and Counties for a portion, that then he would lay aside all other pretences; but if he did deny this, then Henry was re­solved to doe what in him lay by force of armes to repossesse himselfe of his right. These demands were long advised upon, to finde out the mar­row of the businesse, but the Embassadors standing firme to the conditi­ons agreed upon betweene Iohn King of France, and Edw [...]rd 3. King of England, at Bretigny; answer was made, that a businesse of so great weight was not to be answered in an instant; That assoone as it would be maturely discust, the King would send his resolution by expresse Embas­sadors of his owne. King Henry tooke this delay, as an expresse deniall, and sent word unto the Dolphin, who had sent unto him a chest of tennis [Page 112] balls (as who should say he thought him onely fit for sport) that within few months he would requite his present, and restore unto him balls of iron, for balls of clouts, which should be so tossed as France should have small reason to glory in her good walls. And losing no longer time, he began to raise monies, munition, victualls, artillery, and souldi­ers, and hired a great number of ships from Holland and Zealand, for his transportation. King Charles was this mean while relapsed into his ac­customed trances, so as the Dolphin understanding what preparations King Henry made, did himselfe likewise prepare for warre, not forbearing though to send him a solemne Embassy (as was by the Councell resolved on) by the Duke of Vandosme and Archbishop of Burges. Their instru­ctions were to approve of the marriage, and to propound in portion cer­taine territories of no great consequence, supplied by a great summe of money, upon condition that all other pretences abandoned, peace might ensue. The King who was at Winchester, going to his army, when hee understood their arrivall stayed there to give them audience, the which he publickly did, and after having feasted them at his owne table, he by the Archbishop of Canterbury answered them, that if the King of France would give unto him his daughter, endowed with the Dutchies of Aqui­tany, Normandy, and Aniou, and Touraine, and the Counties of Poi­ctou, Vinena, together with the rest that the Kings his predecessors had by right of inheritance possessed in France, he would accept of her, and peace: if otherwise, he would indeavour to acquire them by force, and to­gether with them the Crown, which did of right belong unto him. This being with much impatiency heard by the Archbishop of Burges, who could not hide his anger, hee desired leave to speak freely; whereunto the King giving way, with an inflamed countenance, and angry voice, hee said, That if he did beleeve the King his Master had made him this of­fer, as fearing his forces, he beleeved amisse; twas the compassion of Christian bloud that had moved him to it; that he erred in his presump­tion, to thinke that he alone was able to injuriously oppresse the noblest and most redoubted King of Christendome, who by his owne forces and those of his subjects and friends, was not onely likely to resist him, but to take him prisoner, and kill him, and to expose such as should follow him to the scorne and fury of the French Nobility; he further desired a safe conduct that they might returne without molestation, and for ought else they would not trouble him. The King who with much patience had listened to what the Archbishop said, replied, That he was nothing at all affrighted at his anger, much lesse at its being sustained by the forces he al­ledged. That his claime was known to all the world, and by them them­selves, though they feigned the contrary. That the power of their King was to them as the morning twilight, whilst they had not seene the noon­tide of his strength: That if Charles had subjects and friends he thanked God he lacked none. That he should be consident that ere long the high­est Crown of their Country should be forced to bow to him, & the prou­dest Miter (meaning the Archbishop) to bend the knee before him. That they should say to the usurper Charles their Master, in his behalfe, that within three months he would come into France, not as into a strangers house, but as into his owne lawfull patrimony, to vanquish it by the [Page 113] sword, not boasting words. That they might be gone with this answer, which he would give unto them under his hand and seale, as likewise their safe conduct, the onely thing of reason they had required of him. Assoone as they were gone, the first thing he did, was to secure the con­sines upon Scotland, by adding to the Earle of Westmerland, the Lord Scroope, Lord Greystock, and Sir Robert Vmfrevill. The last of which desirous to trie his fortune, set upon the enemy of Godering, where hee slew 600. of them, and tooke 300. prisoners; whilst the King sent a He­rald into France with new letters of defiance, who having accesse unto the Councell, but not unto the King, departed with this replie, That an­swer should be made in time and place convenient.

The King was a ship-board in Antona, when he was informed that the Earle of Cambridge, the Lord Henry Scroope, and Sir Thomas Grey, had conspired his death. This was the onely mischiefe undertaking a­gainst him (though in vaine) by the raging bloud of Civill ware. More certainly would have beene indeavoured had it not beene for the warres with France, which hindred such attempts; whilst it served for a cauter to the bad humours of England. This Princes misfortunes were put over to those that followed him; for the cautery being closed up after his death, produced such sicknesse, as slew his sonne and grandchild, as wee shall see in the second Volume.

The three Conspirators were apprehended. The first was grandsonne to Edward the third, cousen german to Richard the second, and Henry the fourth, and brother to the Duke of Yorke; a Prince of great expectation; one of whom England and the King himselfe, did promise unto them­selves deeds worthy of his birth in these present occasions, he easily con­fessed (I will not say) the truth, but that which being likely to be true, re­dounded to his advantage that it should be beleeved. He confessed that he and the other two had beene bribed by great summes of money recei­ved by the way of anticipation, which caused them resolve (since it was impossible for them to deliver him alive into the French mens hands) to kill him, before he should set footing in Normandy. This did very much afflict the King: he thought it improbale that men of so great fortunes should be capable of so base corruption: for in his person they betrayed their Country, exposed the very flower of England to the slaughter, and cut the very nerves of the fortune of the land. He bewailed the fault, but did not perceive the true occasion of the treason, which if he had done, he had perhaps by rooting out the house of Yorke, prevented the ruine wich was a framing against his house of Lancaster. But humanity attains not to the secrets of above; and if it did, it is not wise enough to divert the wisdome of heaven. God is as well the reward of good in thousands, as he is the punisher of evill in the third & fourth generation. In Richard the 2. he punished the death of Edward the second. In Henry the sixt and his sonne, the death of Richard the second. In Edward the fifth and his brother, the death of Henry the sixt and his sonne. And in Richard the third, the death of Edward the fifth and his brother; and yet hee was pleased to suffer those to dye in peace which were the authors thereof. I would not place Edward the third in this number, if his mo­thers fault did not in some sort lay upon him the aspersion of parricide. [Page 114] Henry the fourth, who murthered Richard the second, and Edward the 4. who murthered Henry the sixt, remained all unpunished. But to Richard the second he denyed life, & perhaps repentance, his inhumanity not de­serving successor, nor pardon. And though he died a violent death, yet not so ill as he deserved, for who doth live through cruelty, should through cruelty die. It was not credited that the Earle of Cambridge was corrup­ted by France (as he himself said) but of his own accord: for being marri­ed to Anne, great grandchild to Lionell Duke of Clarence, and sister to Edmond Earle of March, to whom the Crowne did of right belong, his designe was to kill the King, and his brethren, that so he might make his brother in law, King, who having no children, nor in a capacity of ha­ving any, he and his sonne were to succeed in the right of Anne, so as fea­ring lest to confesse the truth, might endanger his heires life, he framed this fable, He and his complices were beheaded. And though he was pittied by all, yet his resolving upon so wicked a deed, in the nicke of so important a businesse, to the common losse and danger, did much abate their commiseration: for his death was thought expedient for the life and safety of King and and subjects. Walsingham writes, that the Lord Scroop, Lord Treasurer (whose hypocrisie had wonne so much of credit with the King, that nothing was done without his approvall) was he who was cor­rupted by the Embassadors of France, and that the other two received their infection from him. That the Embassadors being returned home, reported that they had so ordered the businesse, that King Henry was as then either diverted from the enterprise of France, or slaine. A manu­script cited by Iohn Speed saith, that the King of France gave them a mil­lion of Crownes, that they might either kill him, or deliver him up priso­ner into his hands, and that the Earle of Cambridge desirous to draw the Earle of March unto his party, revealed the designe unto him, forcing him by threats to sweare secrecy; and that having obtained one onely hour for resolution, the Earle of Marsh accused him unto the King. The sentence of death which in history is recorded, saith, That it was so wrought, as that the Earle of Marsh should take upon him the government of the Kingdome, in case Richard the 2. were dead (there remained still an opinion that he was yet living in Scotland) and that he should be proclai­med heire to the Crown in opposition to Henry of Lancaster, usurper. The which doth partly correspond with the manuscript, as likewise that the Earle of Marsh was the accuser: it being probable, that having no chil­dren, and voide of ambition, and of a peacefull condition, he would not hazard his life to satisfie his brother in lawes ambition. But it is not pos­sible that the King of France should have payed this mony; for if so, it would have beene found after the delinquents death, and some mention would have been made thereof. Moreover the revenues of France in those daies not amounting by much to so great a sum, it must of necessity either be taken out of an already gathered treasure, or from the common peoples purse, not from the treasury; for Princes lay up treasure onely in peace, and by good government, both which were a long time unknowne to that Kingdome. Not from the purse of the common people, for it was im­possible in such an instant, and with so much secrecy to have drawne it from them. So as for what appeares to me, the reasons alledged in their [Page 115] sentence ought most to be beleeved, the rather for that King Henry did never upbraid King Charles, nor the Crowne of France with so ignomi­nious an act.

The truce betweene these two Kingdomes ended the second of August, whereupon such English as were in the garrison of Calleis, and other frontiers of Picardy, were the first who began the warre, sallying forth the very next day, sacking the frontiers of Bolonia, and places next adjacent. Five thousand souldiers under the command of Monsieur de Rambures, generall of the crossebow-men, were sent to defend the Coun­try. But King Henry did not weigh anchor till some daies after, and came to Normandy the Eve of the Annunciation. His fleet consisted of 1500. ships, his army of 6000. men of armes, and 24000. Bowmen, furnished with all such artillery and provisions, as humane diligence, and the po­wer of so great a King could assemble for such a designe. He cast anchor at Cape Caux, and landed without resistance, having by publique pro­clamation commanded that neither Church, Monastery, women, chil­dren, nor any other person whosoever that had no armes, should be mo­lested upon paine of life. The next day hee went to sit downe before Harfleur, a Towne situated upon the mouth of the River Sens. The chiefe Lords of his army were, the Dukes of Clarence, Gloster, Exceter, and Yorke, the Earle Marshall, Arundell, Oxford, Suffolke, Warwicke, and others. The Town was commanded by Monsieur de Etouteville, af­sisted by Messieurs de Blanville, Bacheville, Ermanville, Gallart, Bos, Clere, Bestu, Adsanches, Briote, Gocurt, Illeadam, and many other Knights and Gentlemen, to boote with which were 400. men of armes, besides the inhabitants who all made what resistance possibly might be. The King of France dispatcht away the Constable Albret, the Marshall Boniquot, Henaut, Ligni, and others to fortifie the sea Townes with men and artil­lery. The garrison of Harfleur assoone as they understood of the enemy comming, dug up the way which leades from Monteviller to the Town, so to make the enemies march more difficult, and sallying forth to skir­mish with them, they had much adoe to get backe into the City, so many were their opposers, and in such number the arrowes which shoured downe upon them. But notwithstanding all impediments, the English pitched their campe, and planted their artillery upon the most advantagi­ous places. The place was well fortified with walls and turrets, together with a broad and deep di [...]ch, the defendants resolve to maintaine it whilst there was any the least hope. Those who were sent to secure the mari­time places, did what in them lay to hinder the booties, which notwith­standing all their diligence, the besiegers did every where take. All the good they did, was to preserve the neighbouring Townes from being ta­ken. The victualls in the English army being almost wholly corrupted by the sea, they must have suffered much scarcity, had they not made great booties of men and cattell.

The King of France was come to Vernone, between Paris and Roen, levying men from all parts to succour Harfleur; The which being furi­ously assailed, the gates, walls, and turrets, almost all beaten down, their mines ready to play, and the powder which the King had sent unto the town surprised by the enemy: they of the town brought to such a passe, as [Page 116] they were not able to withstand a generall assault: a great many of them being slaine or sicke, they agreed to yeeld themselves, their lives saved, leaving all other things to the discretion of the besiegers, if they were not succoured within five daies. Bacheville brought these newes to Charles, who finding himselfe weake, permitted them to doe what they were by necessity inforced unto, so as the five daies being past, they threw open the gates, after a siege of 37. daies, wherein they suffered very much. Harfleur was the chiefest Port Towne of all Normandy. The Towne was sackt, quarter was given to the souldiers, and Citizens, who demea­ned themselves well. The women, children, and religious persons, were all put out of the Town, the poorest sort of them having six pence a peece given them. The great and rich spoile was sent into England, as a wit­nesse of good successe: Whereupon people of all conditions flockt from England thither, who besides other priviledges had a house of inheri­tance allotted to every family, so as the City was in an instant peopled by the English. The King made his entry without any solemnity, walking a foote to Saint Martins Church, to thanke God for that victory. He made the Duke of Exeter governour thereof, who chose for his Lievtenant Iohn Falstofe, and for his Councellors the Lord Carew, and Sir Hughe Lu­terell, and put therein a garrison of 1500. souldiers, besides horsemen. A great many sicke people were sent backe to England, amongst which the Duke of Clarence, the Earle Marshall, and Earle Arundell, the Earle of Stafford, the Bishop of Norwich, Lord Molins, and Lord Brunell died of a fluxe in the siege. That which imported more then all the rest, re­mained yet to be resolved on. The King undertooke this businesse about the end of summer, who came not to Normandy till the 14. of Au­gust, so as to continue the warre as was requisite, was impossible; and so much the more for that winter came early and more egerly in, then it had done some yeares before. To passe the sea againe, if it were not a kinde of running away would at least be proclaimed such by the enemy. To keepe in Normandy within the small precincts of Harfleur, was impos­sible, the incommodity of victualls being considered. That which was resolved upon was to march to Calleis through the heart of the Country, and through the enemies forces: a resolution no waies necessary, as for lacke of other meanes, but most necessary for what concerned the ho­nour and reputation of armes, of 30000. fighting men who had past the seas from England, there remained but 15000. 2000. men at armes, and 13000. bowmen; The rest were either dead of fevers or fluxe, or sent backe into England, or left in garrison at Harfleur: so soone then as the ruines of the Towne were repaired, that things necessary were provided for, and that such prisoners as had not paid their ransomes, had sworne to come unto the King to Calleis on Saint Martins day, he commanded that those who were to follow him, should carry along victualls for eight daies. And crossing the Country of Caux and En, he marched apace that he might get to the bridges of Soane (which he necessarily was to passe) before they should be broken. A bold resolution, and which not seconded by good fortune, might have beene esteemed a rash one: for the Dolphin tooke from the Country all manner of provisions, and pla­ced great troopes of armed men in all parts to annoy him, and caused the [Page 117] bridges to be broken, hoping that wanting wherwithall to live, he would be forced either to yeeld himselfe, or fight: whereas according to the common maxime, in case they had beene wanting, hee should have built him bridges of silver to passe over. King Henry finding the bridges bro­ken, turned towards Beauquene, to the same Foord betweene Peronne, and Corbie, which Edward the third his great grandfather, passed over before the battell of Cressi: But infinite were the dangers he ranne; the enemy in his face, at his backe, and on all sides, yet did he march in so good order, as that he passed the Foord not receiving any damage, so saith Duplex. Mostrelate saies that finding the Foord strongly garded, he passed forwards towards Eraigne, burning, and making booty whereso­ever he went, from thence to the bridge of Rhenus; and not able to passe there (for it was bravely defended by Monsieur du Vaucourt, the Master of the place) he went to Hangest upon the Soane, from thence to Ponteau de Mere; from whence turning backward he came in the sight of Ami­ens, to Voicre, and to Betencourt, where he made his passage, those bridges not being broken by those of Saint Quintane, according as they had beeene by the King commanded: they not perhaps beleeving that he would have taken so great a compasse, to have come thither. It was resolved in Councell (which kept still with the King in Roa [...]) to give him battell: And the King himself being now free of his malady, resol­ved to be the leader.

The Dolphin would by all meanes be there likewise, nor for ought could be saide to the contrary, would he alter his resolution: But the old Duke of Berry, who had beene present at the businesse of Poctiers, after he had in vaine laboured to disswade as well from the giving of battell, as from that the King and Dolphin should be present at it, not being able to prevaile in both, prevailed in what was of greatest importance, making it as apparent as day, that since to give battell was of eminent danger, there was lesse of harme in hazarding one losse then two. Whereupon the father and the sonne being appeased; the Constable was commanded to fight; the which being divulged, all the neighbouring Nobility flockt to the army, which growing hourely greater and greater, did ne­ver lose sight of the enemy, coasting along the other side of the River till comming neere Artesia, the Constable sent word to Count Caraloise, that the batell being resolved upon, he did invite him to partake of the victory. Answer was made to Monsieur Mongaguire (who was the Em­bassadour) by Count Carallois his Councellors, that all diligence that might be, should be used that he might come. The yong Prince thirsted for nothing more; but his governours, though they seemed to prepare for his going (order being given to the Nobility that they should come to ac­company him) having received expresse commission to the contrary from the Duke, did otherwise then they had promised, deluding the second messengers, who with a herald were sent to resollicite him. And to the end he might neither know of the day of battell, nor where the army was, they made him go to Aire, a place out of the way, so as the Nobility and Gen­try which expected his comming, finding that they were only fed with hopes, went of themselves unto the army, and the yong Counts gover­nours were faine to stop his teares, by making knowne unto him his fa­thers [Page 118] expresse inhibition. The Constable, who together with the Mar­shall Bonciquot, saw himsel [...]e environed with so much Nobility, with so many troopes of horse and foote; and that the very Princes themselves in opinion of their valour and experience, had willingly yeelded the command to them, coveted nothing more then combate: so as fearing lest the King (who had already passed the River) might escape them, they sent to offer him battell: his answer was; That he had not learnt to ac­cept of the opportunity of fighting from his enemies; that he went to Cal­leis; That if they durst assaile him, at their perills be it, they should then finde that his Army was composed of able Warriers. But the Constable thinking that to set upon him in the present posture he was in, would be to his disadvantage, and that the answer though in appearance generous▪ foreshewed a hidden fear, warily dissembled, marcht on before him; whilst the King marching at leasure came in three daies to Blagni, where under­standing that the enemy was encamped at Agencourt, he encamped him­selfe at Maisoncelles, not above three bow-shootes from them, where his souldiers halfe dead with hunger, wearied and frozen to death (for they had not time to provide for fewell) spent all the night in confession, com­munion, and other spirituall exercises, as if it were the last night they were to live; so as their soules comfort much incouraged them, the which they witnessed by the continuall musicke of their trumpets which never ceased to sound till the breake of day; whilst the French Campe put up with confidence, and buried in sleepe, buried all their mirth in silence, the ve­ry horses not so much as neighing, so as some of them fuller of imagina­tion then the rest, tooke it as an ill omen; it being almost incredible that in the number of 150000. horse which were then in the army, what for carts, waggons, artillery, and other warre affaires, there should want in­struments to out doe the Tantaraes of the enemies contemptible campe, or at least voices to drowne them. And this devotion whereof we have spoken, though voluntary, was augmented by the Kings example, who ever tooke speciall care that God should not be offended, insomuch that one of his souldiers having in his journey stolne the tabernacle wherein the hostia is kept, out of a Church, he would not quit the place, till it was restored, and the felon hanged upon a tree; which action being divulged in those parts, the Country-people strove who should soonest furnish him with victualls, though they had strict command to the contrary: of such efficacy is religious justice, yea even amongst enemies.

The five and twentieth day of October was come, wherein the French promised unto themselves undoubted victory, and the English to lose their lives at as deare a rate as they could, resolute rather to die then to bee wanting to themselves. Those scorned these, and these feared not those, but recommended themselves to God, who was onely able to save them. The Constable made three great squadrons of his men. The Vanguarde reserved for his owne leading, was composed of 8000. gentlemen, ar­med from head to foote, of 4000. archers, and 1500. crosse-bow men, placing two wings upon the flancks, the one of 1600. the other of 800. choice horsemen. Here were placed the Dukes of Orleans, and of Bur­bon the Counts of Eu and Richmond, the Marshall Bonciquot, the gene­rall of the crosse-bow men, and the admirall Dampiere: the wing of 1600. [Page 119] was commanded by the Count de Vandosme and that of 800. by Clugnet of Brabant, William de Sanenses, and Lewis of Burbon. The maine bat­tell of equall order, and number, was conducted by the Dukes of Barre, and Alenson, and by the Counts Nevers, Vademont, Blamont, Salines, Grampree, and Roussi: The reereguard exceeded the other in number, but was composed of men lesse experienced, the flower of all the army being put in the two former squadrons: It was conducted by the Counts Omalle, Marle, Dammartin, Fouchingburg, and Louray Captaine of Ardres, so as not reckoning the reereward, the Vanguard, and the maine battell were composed of 20800. horse and 11000. archers and crosse-bow men; the three squadrons seemed to be seven times as many as were the English. King Henry seeing hem troubled in the ordering of them­selves, and that they did not presently set upon him, as he expected, gave order that his souldiers should eate, before they should be put into bat­tell aray; and because they were so farre inferiour in number to the enemy, as that of thirteene thousand archers, and two thousand men at armes, a great many were sicke, insomuch as to divide the re­mainder into severall squadrons were to make them very small ones, he resolved to put them all into one body, placing the archers in the front, defended (as if it were by pikes) by certaine stakes sharpened at both ends, and set bending forwards in the ground, which he himselfe had caused be cut out of the woods by the way as he marched: of the men of armes he made two wings, placing them on the flanks, and in a field hard by, fenced by a bancke, he placed two hundred archers in ambush, with directions that they should not shoote till the signe were given. The French men had beene a full houre in order, not having advanced one foot, and it was about tenne of the clock, when the English, expecting to be set upon, and impatient to attend any longer, did advance themselves, and after having made a little haste, Sir Thomas Herpingham an ancient man, and long experienced in war, threw a trunchion into the aire, which was the signe of falling too. The souldiers shooting aloud, and the 200. of the ambush answering them, began to let flie at the Vanguard, so as the enemies horse being wounded in the fall of arrowes, and their riders troubled to governe them, they came not to the charge as they should have done. Duplex noteth three errors committed by the French in this encounter. The first that when the English advanced themselves, they did not likewise advance, but stood still, though much the stronger; an error which Cesar observed in Pompey, in the battell of Pharsalia: first motions give courage, whereas standing still takes from courage: for wounds which are received whilst men stand still, by wounding to the quicke, doe infuse fear, whereas the sense abstracted by motion, hath lesse sense of wounds, and the spirits remaining intire, doe strengthen the arme, and makes it give the first blow. The second, that standing so immove­able and bowing downe their heads, to the end that the arrowes might not enter through the sight holes of their helmets, they made themselves a firmer But to hit. The third, that of 800. horsemen led by Monsieur Sanenses, 120. went onely to give the charge, and those but sluggishly, so as their Captaine not seconded, was by their arrowes beaten downe and slaine.

[Page 120] Their horses being thus wounded, strength, dexterity, and the bit not able to governe them; in stead of going forward, they recoyled backe, and in shocking and justling together, fell one upon another, so as the English leaving their bowes, and laying loade on them with their hat­chets and swords, made great slaughter of them; whilst passing from the first file to the last, they came to the maine battell, the which either dis­heartened by the sight of so cruell an execution, or beaten back by so un­expected an assault, or that being too close pressed, and straightned within themselves, they had not meanes to manage their swords, was in a short space rooted; the English receiving no harme at all, save that some of them were trodden under foote by the horse. Here the Duke of Brabant putting himselfe forward, and not followed by his men, was slaine. Ma­ny who fell, or were beaten from horsebacke found meanes to escape, being assisted by their servants, whilst the English being but few in num­ber, minded not those that escaped or fled away. This meane while the King giving on with his horse, which were fresh, and well ordered, drove those of the maine battell which yet remained in order, backe upon the reareward, which being composed of new and unexperienced people, ran away, making small or no resistance. The archers, crosse-bow men, and foote, did nothing in this daies worke but runne away. On the contrary side many Noblemen and Gentlemen, lost their lives through too much courage. The Duke of Alencon gave on upon the squadron royall, where he slew the Duke of Yorke, wounded, and bore to ground the Duke of Gloster, and hurt the King himselfe upon the head, whilst he stooped to raise up his brother; but being strucke at on all sides, and beaten downe, as he held up his hand and cried to the King, tis Alencon that yeelds him­selfe, he was slaine before the King could have time to save him. The Counts Omale and Marle, and divers other Gentlemen did by force keepe 600. horse together, with whom they were all or taken prisoners or slaine. Others stucke together with the like successe, being either slaine or discomfited. Robert Brovocille, and Izembert Agencourt, were the onely two who comming with an intention to steale, and not to fight, being followed by sixe hundred horse, entred the English campe, where­in was none but servants and sicke folkes, whom they put all to the sword, and bore away from thence a very rich booty: the which the King understanding and beleeving that the enemy had reunited themselves, fearing to bee set upon againe, hee made it bee proclaimed that as many as had any prisoners should kill them, the number of the prisoners being lesse then were those that tooke them: whereupon those two as having beene cause of so wofull an effect (bewailed by the actors themselves) were afterwards long kept in prison by the Duke of Burgony: and it was thought that a sword richly set with jewells which they had taken amongst the Kings stuffe, and given to Count Ca­ralois that he might protect them, saved their lives; which had not ser­ved their turnes, if the Dolphin had lived. But no more people appea­ring, the victory was ended, by taking of more prisoners and adding fresh numbers to the dead. The heate of this battell continued three houres, and three houres longer did they continue to fight till such time as there was no more neither to kill nor take; so as about foure in the afternoon a [Page 121] retreate was sounded, and by the Prelates and Chapplins, Te Deum, was sung, and the Psalme In exitu Israel de Aegypto, and at the verse Non nobis Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam, all threw themselves upon their knees. The campe and tents of the French served for lodgings to the victors, in recompence of their owne campe which they had lost. The next day Monijoy the King of armes of France came, accompanied with foure other Heralds to know the number of prisoners, and to obtaine leave to bury the dead. The King calling him before him, said, That the multitude of men slaine which he saw there, was no worke of his, but the worke of God Almighty, to punish the unjust usurpation of France, That therefore he willed him to say whether he thought he, or the King of France had wonne the battell? To the which Monijoy replied that his Majesties victory was so apparent, as there was no place allowed for dispute. the King then looking round about desired to know the name of the Castle which was neerest to the two campes, and understan­ding that the name thereof was Aiencourt; from henceforth, said he, this battell shall be called the battell of Aiencourt. He then granted him all he demanded; but the souldiers desired first to view the field, and to take such prisoners as did yet live, and to take from such as were dead, their gold, and jewells, & what else they had of value, leaving them their apparrell; of the which they were afterwards by the Country people stript. The number of the slaine (according to Monstrelet) were above 10000. of the which 9000. gentlemen. He registers the names of the chiefest of them in a particular Chapter. It will suffice us to know the names of the Prin­ces and chiefe commanders. Of Princes there died the Duke of Bra­bant, and Gount de Nevers. both brothers to the Duke of Burgony, The Duke of Barre, and his brother Iohn the Duke of Alenson. The Counts of Marle, Vademont, Blamont, Grampre, Roussi, Faucumberg, and Le­wis of Burbon: of chiefe commanders Charles Albret Constable, Dampiere the Admirall, Ramburres generall of the crossebowes, and Guishard Ma­ster of the Kings houshold. The prisoners were the Dukes of Orleans and Burbon, the Counts Ew, Vandosme, Richmont, the Marshall Bonchiqu [...]t, and eighteene Gentlemen of name, beside others. Of those who were slaine of the English side, reports do very much differ. Paulus Aemilius sets downe 200. naming the Duke of Yorke for one, whom he calls the Kings brother. Gaguine sets downe 400. comprehending the said Duke with the said error. Monstrelet 1600. Duplex the same number adding a great many that were wounded, which (as he saith) did almost all die. Of the English writers, Grafton saith betweene 500. and 600. other be­tweene 20. and 26. Edward Hall who comprehends the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Suffolke, Sir Richard Kikely and David Game, the onely men of note, saith, there were not above five and twenty slaine. Let who please beleeve miracles. But in all reason it is likely that having fought three whole houres, with so great a number of enemies, the relation of 500. or 600. is the truest. David Game, the last of the foure above na­med, and one whom the King much esteemed, as one of the bravest, and most judicious souldiers of his campe, being sent the night before to make an estimate of the number of the enemy, went to the top of an hill and seeing all the Champion covered with tents, and blazing with fires, [Page 122] brought word backe, that there were enough of them to be slaine, enough to be taken prisoners, and enough to be made runne away. When the King was come to Calleis, he found there the prisoners of Harfleur, who according to their promise were come to present themselves unto him. Assoone as he had dispatcht them, and refreshed his men, he passed into England, meeting in so short a passage with so terrible a tempest of winds, as it drove two ships loaden with souldiers into Zeland, without the losse of any one vessell: yet some write otherwise: he was received in triumph with processions and other magnificences. He tooke order for the safety of his prisoners, and caused the Duke of Yorke, and Earle of Suffolkes funeralls to be splendidly celebrated.

The afflictions wherewith France was in generall wounded would more particularly have touched upon the Duke of Burgony by reason of the death of his brothers, had not the imprisonment of Orleans and An­golesme, and the death of Alenson served him for defensive weapons. It cannot be easily judged whether of these two prevailed most with him, till it be resolved whether the love of friends or hatred of enemies be of most power in humane affections: But who shall well consider it, will finde that in an ambitious and revengefull minde, the excesse of hatred is greater then naturall affection is: Few are seene, who to inherit their pos­sessions, would not be content to lose their brethren, and very few, who doe not forget the love to their owne bloud, when at the charge of their friends, they may revenge themselves upon their enemies. But whereas hatred proceeds from injuries, from the which (as being done, not recei­ved) evill is to be expected, without the concurring of any other passion; It is able to corrupt whatsoever nature, much more the Dukes nature which was already corrupted. And tis to bee beleeved that the private and publicke losse he suffered in this battell did not more afflict him, then he was joyed at the benefit hee received by his enemies being oppressed. Hence it was, that seeing himselfe voide of competitors, he resolved im­mediately to go to Paris to resume that authority, the desire whereof had caused him to cause the Duke of Orleans father to this present Duke, be slaine: to breake so many covenants made with his sonnes, and to reduce the faire and rich Country of France almost to gastlinesse and poverty. But the present condition of government, did not permit him to enter in a peacefull manner: for the King being possest by the contrary faction, those of his party being or excluded or banished, the Dolphin (though his sonne in law) evilly conceited of him, if he came not in a condition to give the Law, he ranne hazard of suffering it both in his life and lively­hood. Having then levyed 10000. horse, he tooke his journey; but assoon as his designe was heard of, King Charles laying aside all other busines, en­deavoured to stop his comming. He strictly forbad all Cities and Towns to permit him entrance; and that he might oppose unto him a man of va­lor, & of the contrary faction, he recalled from Gascony (with the offer of being Constable of France) the Count Armignack, who willingly came, drawne rather through hatred to the Duke, then ambition of the honour. The Duke seeing those gates shut upon him, which he thought to have found throwne open, and that the Count Armignacke was arived at Pa­ris with great troopes of men from Gascony and Languedock, and that [Page 123] he had received the sword (the badge of Constableship) to the end that he might wield it against him, tarried at Lagni: where in a short time he was 20000. horse strong, remooving all obstacles which might withstand his entrance into Paris, not unarmed and with his particular family, as he was permitted to doe, but armed in the head of twenty thousand horse, alledging the same reasons to obtaine his entrance, as the King did to deny it.

During these disputes, Lewis the Dolphin died of a fever, but according to the opinion of most, of poyson, being by the Orleanist thought no lesse a bosome friend then sonne in law to the Duke. I know not though what judgement to give herein, the tokens of this friendship (his alliance set a­side) being very slight: For at Burges he appeared against him, and in o­ther places upon other occasions, seemed but very meanly to favour him: he had quitted his wife, the Dukes daughter, for some affection he had elsewhere; nor would he have resumed her, if not threatned to have the treaty of Arras broken; besides, the Dolphin of his owne nature was not constant in his friendship, opiniatred onely in odde fancies; not over thankefull to his father, and as much ignorant of government as he was presumptuous and headstrong. Serres notwithstanding calls him terror of Burgony, but without cause, for had the Dolphin lived, he had runne no danger; for in time he might easily have won him by his subtilnesse: And though through the antipathy of ambition he appeared against him, yet it is not likely that he would have forgone that respect, which as to a father in law, he owed him. This his death was rather thought, and assu­redly was a great blow to the Dukes fortune, to the which he began to give way, and retired himselfe to Flanders, failing in what hee intended in France.

The Emperour Sigismond had all this while endeavoured as much as he might the peace of the Church: which not likely to effect without 1416 the assistance of other Princes (for to send their Prelates and Embassa­dours to the Councell, was not of force enough against the stubbornesse of three titulary Popes, which required a coactive authority to incline them to reason) he resolved to goe himselfe to France, whether he came with 800. horse; and finding that it was impossible to compasse his de­signes, without the peace of the two Kingdomes, he meant to endeavour it. And having laid the ground-worke thereof with Charles, he procu­red Embassadors from France to goe along with him to England, that he might the better treat thereof in their presence. He was received by Henry with all due respects. William Count of Hannault came thither likewise in person to the same end, and shortly after the Embassadors of many Princes, amongst which were those of the Duke of Burgony, in greater magnificence then all the rest. But the propositions which were propounded to King Henry, were far short of what he pretended unto, and of his good successe, by the which he seemed to be inwardly advised to the contrary. He forbare not though, in thankes to so great a media­tor, to send Embassadors to Bavaois; where as an introduction to the bu­sinesse, a truce was propounded, together with the ransome of such pri­soners as were in England. Things which easily might have beene a­greed [Page 124] upon, had not an accident happened, which hindred all agreement, the which though it be by Chesnes denyed, his arguments for confutati­on are very weake. The Duke of Exceter governour of Harfleur, was gone forth with 3000. souldiers to scoure the parts neer about Roan, a­gainst whom the Constable opposed himselfe with 5000. (The French writers say it was Monsieur de Villaquiers, and not the Constable, and that he had but 3000. men.) They fought, and 300. of the Dukes men were slaine: (the French say 1800.) so as finding himselfe to be the wea­ker, the Duke retired himselfe into an Orchard incompassed with a hedge of thornes, where he staied the rest of that day, and the next night. As he retired upon breake of day towards Harfleur, he was overtaken, and set upon againe neere unto the City, from whence new succours issuing forth, he put the enemy to route, Villaquiers himselfe being one of those that were slaine. But however it were, the Constable having for his first enterprise resolved to drive the English out of Normandy; he besieged Harfleur, and though he saw that this resolution would wholly break the treaty of peace, yet was he so desirously confident to winne it, that hee would not raise his siege, though he was commanded so to doe. Whereat King Henry being offended, he recalled his Embassadors, intended to have gone to the succour thereof himselfe in person, and had done so, had he not beene by the Emperour disswaded. Being then perswaded to send away others in his steade, he dispatched away the Duke of Bedford with 200 ships (the French authors say 300.) and with him many Lords and Gentlemen, with whom he arrived there the day of the assumption of our Lady, a fatall day, aswell to the keeping of Harfleur, as it was to the winning thereof, for the yeare before the King came thither upon the Eve of that day. The City was narrowly besieged by sea and land. Vi­count Narbonne Vice-admirall of France presented himselfe before it with a great fleet before the Constable came thither, hoping alone to have surprised it, by taking the defendents at unawares. But being disco­vered, and driven backe, he was contented to have company in the conti­nuance of the siege; he gave many assaults into the Town, but little good was done either by sea or land: When he discried the English fleete, hee prepared for fight, and went into the mouth of the River. The Duke did not refuse the encounter, but sending some of his stoutest ships before to beginne the bickering, he with all the rest seconded them, resolving ei­ther to die or overcome. They fought a long while with equall courage and obstinacy tillat last fortune favouring the English, the enemies ships which what great, what little were in number 500. were all of them al­most either taken, or sunke; amongst which were three great Carrects of Genua, which being afterwards sent into England, did witnesse the defeate. The Duke having reinforced the garrison with monies, and men, returned home, the Constable having raised his siege, assoone as the Navy was defeated.

The Emperour who sufficiently knew that it was lost time to tarry any longer in England touching the matter of peace, provided for his depar­ture. The King had conferred upon him, and the Count Hannault at their first comming, the order of the garter, and they were installed with extra­ordinary pompe at Winsor. The Count was already gone, & the Empe­rour [Page 125] being likewise to be gone (the affairs of Germany and of the Coun­cell recalling him) the King would waite upon him to Calleis, a strait league being agreed on between them, which having caused jealousies in divers Princes, was the cause why the Duke of Burgony desired to speak with them both before they parted. And because the declared war did not permit him to adventure his person to a profest enemy (or at least he would have it so beleeved) the Duke of Glocester and Earle of Marsh, were sent unto him for ostages, and he was met, and brought to Calleis by the Earle of Warwicke. This meane while his sonne Philip Count Caralois, having with much honour received the ostages, led them to lodge in Saint Omers: And the next morning going to give the good morrow to the Duke of Glocester, who was standing with his backe to the doore, discoursing with some of his domestiques, the Duke was somewhat late in saluting him, and did it in a more familiar manner then did become the quality of so great a Prince: whereat he made no signe of distaste, though he resented it, his fathers occasions infusing dissimu­lation into him. The Duke of Burgony was driven upon this by an acci­dent from whence nothing but dangerous consequences was to be expe­cted. Those who governed France, after the Emperours departure for England, had laid a generall taxe upon all things vendible; the which having distasted the people, the Parisians more seditious then the rest, plotted the most detestable conspiracy that till then had beene heard of in that Kingdome, and having had recourse unto him, as on whom they chiefly did rely, he sent some of his friends unto them, to confirme them in their resolution, promising to assist them: hoping by this meanes to compasse the so much coveted government, and to suppresse his enemies, his two ancient unalterable designes. The appointment was, to take the King, the Queene, the Duke of Berry, the King and Queene of Sicily, the Chancellour, the Councell, and those that sided with Orleans, all pri­soners on good Friday, and to kill them all. But many going that day out of the City, to obtaine pardons by their devotions, and fearing lest some of those might likewise have gone forth whom they would not have had to gone, and so might save themselves, they deferred executing their plot till Easter day, which was the safety of those that were proscri­bed. For the Chancellor hearing of the treason by meanes of a woman, made the King and Princes suddenly retire themselves into the Louvre, whilst the Provost arming such as upon so suddaine an occasion he could assemble together, made himselfe master of the Market place, and taking some of the conspirators prisoners, infused feare into the rest, freeing the lives of many from eminent danger, by the death of a few. Afterwards securing himselfe of the City, by such men of armes as flockt unto him from all the neighbouring parts, and taking away the chaines from the streets heads, which made them insolent, he disarmed the people whilst the Dukes officers had time to escape. This businesse produ­ced such jealousies and rancor, as all parties drawing into the field, they omitted nothing whereby they might injure one another. And the Duke, who masked, presented the principall person in this tragedy (the argument whereof was not changed, though the Scene were) thought that to compasse his ends, it was requisite for him to secure Flanders [Page 126] from the danger of England, that whilst he endeavoured to endamage o­thers, he might not bee indamaged at home: To this purpose he came to Caleis, where he did so worke upon these two great Princes, as that the Emperour, who at his passage into England, was by the Duke of Ba­variaes meanes, brother to the Queene, who was an utter enemy to the Duke, become an Orleanist, did upon this meeting become a Burgonian, being wholly changed through cunning and the homage made unto him of the County of Burgony and Allost: and King Henry prorogued the truce formerly made betweene Flanders and Artois for two yeares lon­ger, to the Dukes advantage, and scandall of all well minded men: for to preferre private respects before the publicke, with the enemies of the State, without the knowledge of the Soveraigne, is as blameable and wor­thy of punishment, as it is contrary to conscience and Law. But he that propounds evill for his object, loseth all shame which thereupon depends: and his naturall confidence (by reason whereof his Dutchmen called him Undaunted) becomming the fatall chariot of his precipice, made him to be undaunted at the encounter of his ruine. His affaires being thus acom­modated, every man betooke himselfe to his owne home, hee to Flan­ders, the Ostages to Calleis, the Emperour to Germany, and the King to England.

Partly before, and partly after this time were the funeralls of three great Princes celebrated in France: That of the Duke of Berry, of Iohn the Dolphin, who succeeded to his brother Lewis, and of the King of Sicily. All of them unfortunate deaths, for all the respects which con­cerned that Kingdome. Berry and Sicily did serve to counterpose the ambition of Burgony, and the Dolphin served for a removall of those e­vills (if he had lived) which in the succession of his brother Charles, through the Dukes death did afterwards happen. The Duke alive or dead, was borne for the destruction of France; so as that which authors write hereof, if it be not true, it is truth like: That a Turkish Mathema­tician saved his life when he was prisoner to Bajazet the first, by assuring Bajazet that more Christians would in short time bee destroied for his cause, then the Othomans sword would cut off in a whole age. Iohn the Dolphin, during his brother Lewis his life, had married Giacalina the on­ly heire to William Count of Hannault, and whilst he kept with him, rea­dy to goe for France, he died, not being yet fully twenty yeares old. Not long before this a strait confederacy was made in Valentiniana, be­tweene him and the Duke of Burgony, the reputed cause of his death: for it caused his being poysoned by those of the Orleans faction: for (he being dead) the hopes of the Kingdome falling upon Charles Count de Poictou, sonne in law to the King of Sicily, and the last of King Charles his five sonnes, they fell upon a Prince that was their friend, bred up in the hatred and passions, wherewith his father in law then living, was indu­ed. But he dying likewise shortly after, left it in doubt whether his death caused more of pleasure or displeasure unto the Duke: for though he were freed of a mortall enemy, yet his hopes of revenge being in his death lost, did sowre the sweet thereof; so as it may be said, that the sweets of ill disposed men, have no taste which is not seasoned with somewhat of sowre. The articles of this confederacy, and which caused the Orlea­nist [Page 127] to rid him out of the world (if it be true that they did so) were, That the Duke of Burgony should serve the King and the Dolphin against whosoever, particularly against the King of England. That he should keep peace with all men in France except the King of Scicily. The Dol­phin on the contrary part obliging himselfe, to assist the Duke, not onely against his owne subjects, if so it should fall out, but against whosoever else should molest him. But his enemies encouraged by this death, be­came so insolent, as they forced him to essay the strongest Cities, to ex­clude the present government, whereupon the civill warre grew hotter then ever it was. And Count Armignacke upon whom through the death of these Princes, the Kings incapacity, and the Dolphins tender yeares, all authority of government fell, seconded by those of the Coun­cell, who together with him were afraid, that the Queene weary of their presumptions, might endeavour their ruine, made her to bee carried to Towrs, under the custody of three of his confidents. And that this her banishment might be irrevocable, he interessed the Dolphin therein, ma­king him (under pretence of the necessity of the warre) seize upon such treasure, as she had gathered and placed in certaine Churches, and Mo­nasteries, as in so many Sanctuaries. An action which caused in her such hatred against her sonne, as (hoping for revenge) she by his ruine, who was her onely sonne, wrought the ruine of France; which things though their successe were uncertaine, yet nothing of good could be conjectured thereby. So as they being by King Henry well examined, he hasted to call a Parliament, propounding the continuation of the warre, which was embraced with much applause, and monies to that purpose readily paid downe, nothing but good successe being to be hoped for, whilst matters went thus.

The King to make himselfe Master of the Sea, dispatcht away Iohn Holland, Earle of Huntington, his Admirall, sonne to that Duke of Exce­ter who was beheaded the first yeare of Henry the fourth, a yong man whom he much favoured, not so much, for that hee was cousin ger­man, (borne of Isabell his fathers sister) as that his conditions did deserve it. He on the other side, desirous by some honorable atchievement, to augment the Kings favour, departed resolute to doe some action worthy of the opinion which was conceived of him. The bastard of Burbon was Captaine of the French fleet, of equall force with the Earle, in one onely thing surpassing him; that being guarded about by nine Genway Carracts, as by so many fortresses, he thought them alone sufficient to secure him from all the enemies forces; so as seeking him out, and finding him who did not hide himselfe, they came to blowes. Their equall courage and valour, held the balance a long time equall, till such time as the English prevailing, Burbon was taken prisoner: and of the nine Car­racts, three were sunke, and three were taken, and amongst the prey, the mony which was allowed for halfe a yeares payment of the fleet.

The which being taken by the King as a good omen, he tooke ship­ping at Portsmouth, waited upon by many of the nobility, and followed 1417 by his two brothers Clarence and Gloster, leaving his third brother Bed­ford, Regent. He landed at Tongues, a Castle in Normandy, which in foure daies surrendred it selfe, as with the like speed did Harcourt, Beau­mont, [Page 128] Ereux, Falese, Baiensa, Lis [...]aux, Corances, Aurenches, and o­ther places. Caen a Towne well peopled, strong, and one of the Bul­warkes of that Province stood out resolutely, and not listning to any termes of surrendring, it was soone after taken by assault, and sackt. The Castle (as Monstrelet saith) held out three weekes longer, and seven weekes according to Duplex: whilst the English say that all manner of rigour being denounced against the defendants, if they would not yeeld after the first day, Monsieur de la Faietta, and Monsieur de Montene (des­pairing of succour) came forth within the limited time. All the riches and ornaments of the neighbouring Townes were found there as placed in a safe place. No man durst lay hands upon them, for whosoever did, was unavoidable to be put to death. They were by the Kings directions restored to the Monasteries and Churches to which they did belong: The which purchased him the good will of the Country, and helped him in his succeeding enterprises. Religious actions unfainedly done, have power to molifie even those breasts, which hardned with hatred, would for all other meanes prove obstinate and irreconciliable. Chere­burg, and Ponte del Arco, were next Caen, the most considerable Forts, for the conquest of Normandy. A particular account must be given of Roan by it selfe. The King sent the Duke of Glocester to Chereburg, who finding it provided with men, munition and victualls, spent tenne months there in vaine; in which time when he could not get the gates o­pen by battery, force nor industry, the avarice of Iohn d'Engenes, the governour thereof threw them open unto him, which proved afterwards a gaine which caused his death: for having by this infamously purchased money, received a safe conduct for a certaine limited time, during the which he might trade where ever the King of England did command (for he could not in reason trust himselfe in France) he was in Roan after the City was yeelded up unto the English; and tarring there, relying up­on some, when his set time was expired, his head was cut off: the pre­sence of a traitor smells so ranke in the nose of a noble Prince and lover of vertue. After this many other places yeelded, incited thereunto by the King, having made it to bee proclaimed, that all men should enjoy their goods and priviledges, and that he would treate with all such as with his naturall subjects, who uninforced would put themselves under his government; so as in little more then a yeare his ensignes were seene flourishing in every place, nothing almost remaining to the entire con­quest of Normandy, but the Metroplitan Roan, proceedings sprung from the Prince his worth, and souldiers valour, but facilitated by the ene­mies disunion; it being in them made true, that desolation must needes ensue, where a Kingdome is divided within it selfe: And that as amongst the passions of the minde, there is none so great as that of hatred, so all ha­treds must give place to the violence of civill or home hatred.

The City of Roan in the losse of all those Towns (which as to the head of the Province were under her) had her eye more fixt upon France, then upon her owne eminent danger; for being a principall member thereof, she thought she should be cut off, and made no member if she did not par­take of her infections; and her inhabitants imitating the Parisians in wealth & riches, would have thought their honour had bin concerned, if [Page 129] they should not likewise emulate themin their seditions. Being then resol­ved equally with them to favour the Duke of Burgony, they made an in­surrection under the conduct of Allen Blancard, a partaker with the Duke, and having slaine the governour, and some of the officers; and chiefe Citi­zens, they would make themselves masters of the Castle (a place requisite for their safeties, after so sottish a rebellion) and were repulsed by Iames of Burbon, Signieur de Preaux, who had the command of it; so as their ill successe causing repentance, they were forced to flye for protection to the same Burbon, whom they had but just then so unjustly offended. So rash and haire braine bold are the people, in stumbling upon offences, and so affrontedly presumptuous in the choice of their remedies. But the Dolphin who was come thither with an intention to give them exempla­ry punishment▪ meeting with unexpected difficulties, did cloake his ill will, and pardoned the fault, the which without much danger he could not punish. But since I am to speak much of this Prince, I crave permission to describe him to you in foure lines, that you may the better know him. He was borne under a phantasticall planet glistering with incomparable felicity and miseries. Amongst his miseries was his fathers frenzy, to whom it behoved to side with one of the two factions alternately. Two warres at the same time with Burgony and England: his mothers hatred, and thereby the losse of little lesse then the whole Kingdome. Amongst his felicities the death of foure elder brothers, whereby the Crowne fell upon him: the death of King Henry, which settled it on his head: for if Henry had lived, he was in hazard either to have wholly lost it, or to have injoyed but a small part thereof, and that with diffi­culty, and continuall warre; being bred up in hatred to the Duke of Burgony, to undoe him, he undid himselfe: He was of as various an hu­mour, as his fortune was various; as indulgent to his pleasures as his dan­gers would permit him: whereby he was tutored sometimes in absti­nence, sometimes in temperance; inconstant in his affections, constant & acurate in his actions, insomuch as when he died he left that Kingdome entire and peacefull, which at his entry thereunto, he found not onely tur­bulent but almost lost. So as it may be said, that tribulation made him wise and glorious, which otherwise of himselfe he would not have been; he had before him three powerfull enemies; the King of England, the Duke of Burgony, and his mother; who though a woman, and unarmed, was more of trouble and damage to him, then the other two: It was hard for him to fence against them all. He could not encounter the first with­out affording leasure unto the second, who the more domesticall he was, the more dangerous was his enmity: For whereas against the King of England he might rely upon his peoples faith and assistance, he durst not affie in them against the Duke, whom they were inclined to favour: so as hisgreatest difficulty for the present, was, which of the two he was first to oppose: if he quitted Paris, he lost it; and if he left it not, he lost Nor­mandy. But Count Armignack, were it out of passion, or the interest of his owne authority, or out of true judgement, shewed it unto him, that losing his capitall City, he would likewise the lesse inferior ones, which would follow the others example; and therefore thought it most neces­sary for him to secure that City against the Duke, a Prince of the bloud, [Page 130] and a subject, then to oppose himselfe against the King of England, a forreine Prince, and pretender to the Crowne, though thereby hee might lose Normandy. The Duke therefore perceiving that it was im­possible for him to enter Paris for the present, betooke himselfe to the ta­king in of some small Towns neare about it, and after many too's and fro's, besieging Corbeille, whilst every one thought he did it to famish Paris (it being the most important passage, whereby to cut off the victu­alling of Paris) be rose from thence, and hasted to Towrs, and finding the Queene in Maurmoters Abbey (according to the agreement which was formerly made betweene them) he brought her in liberty to Towrs with reciprocall commodity, for her to reenter into authority and com­mand, by means of the Dukes forces, & for the Duke to make way to his designes, by meanes of the Queenes person and name. They were to the peoples great joy received into the City and Castle, gladded that they were freed from all other taxes, save that of salt; not perceiving that such graces were of no long continuance, aswell for that they cannot bee granted but by the soveraigne Prince, and in such times onely as being free from warre, it redounds to his advantage that his people be eased; as likewise that those who are factious and seditious, cannot subsist with­out oppressing the people. From hence they went to Chartres, where the Queene made herselfe be proclaimed Regent of the Kingdome, esta­blishing two Courts of Justice, the one at Amiens, the other at Troyes in Champania, and prohibiting upon great penalty any whatsoever re­course unto the Parliament at Paris. Divers Cardinalls and Prelates treated a reconcilement betweene her and her sonne; the Duke desired it, hoping thereby the more to tame him. But Count Armignack, and the Chancellor Marle (which thought it would bee the overthrow of their authority) brake off the treaty, becomming thereby more hatefull unto the people. Whereupon those who sided with the Duke in Paris embra­cing the occasion, opened one of the gates by night, and brought in Mon­sieur d'Illeadam, who strengthened by the Citizens, & crying out, Vive la paix, Vive le Roy, Vive Bourgogne, did assault the houses of such as were of the Armignack faction. Tannigues du Chasteu a faithfull servant of the Dolphins (guessing by the first bruit at the matter) ranne at the Dolphins bed side, and conveied him safe in a sheete into the Bastille. The Count Armignacke hid himself in disguise, in a poore neighbours house, who afraid of the punishment wich was proclaimed against whosoever should conceale him, did discover him: Those who led him away prisoner ha­ving much adoe to save him from the fury of the people. The King compelled to rise out of his bed, was by this rascally route set on horse­backe, and led through the City, to the end that the mischiefe which was done, and which was to be done, might be authenticated by his pre­sence; as if a lewd and deadly mischiefe should have tended to his ser­vice, and that he had commanded it. The Chancellors, divers Bishops, Councellors and Magistrates, were taken and made prisoners, whilst the common people possessed with a fresh fury, brake the prisons, and slew them all, their madnesse reaching to the rich, enemies and friends, wealth, anger and inheritance were under colour of the Armignacks, the death of many innocents, who never had to doe in any faction; so as [Page 131] death, though every where of an alike countenance, was clad with diffe­rent liveries. The Constables and Chancellors corps having been three daies together dragd naked up and downe the streets (to the end that the aire might not be therewithall corrupted) were throwne out of the City, where carrion used to be laid. The Duke of Burbony, who was then at Dijon, approving of the fact, but seeming not to approve of the manner thereof, came from thence together with the Queene, and were in great triumph received by the Parisians. Being thus arrived where he desired, increased in power, freed of his enemies, possessed of government, and having the King to dispose of at his pleasure, hee did his uttermost to draw the Dolphin to him; he sent Embassies one after another, as sent from his father and mother, pleading the infirmity of the one, and the o­thers for their inabilities to resolve upon any thing requisite against the King of England without his assistance, nor was he sparing in the vowing of his owne service unto him. But the Dolphin, though he was there­unto inclined, was disswaded by those who thought themselves irrecon­ciliable with the Duke. Thus doe Princes ruine themselves and their af­faires, whilst wanting judgement how to governe alone, they measure their owne interests by the concernments of their servants, who if they were worthy would either sacrifice themselves for their Masters well­fare, or would save themselves by flight, to shun the being reputed their Prince his undoing.

These alterations made sport for King Henry: the vitall spirits which ought to have concurred to the strengthening of so important a member as was Normandy, retired themselves unto the heart, oppressed by dange­rous symptomes; the which not easing the one, did aggravate the other, to the danger of them both: nor could it be otherwise: for the businesse requiring union and obedience; the Duke could not obey the Dolphin, whilst he pretended to governe him; and union was impossible to the Dolphins servants, being they were to lose their authority, which toge­ther with the Dukes authority was incompatible. The one side and the other did alike feare that the severall factions being once reduced into the right way, would not goe astray againe: for there is nothing whereof seditious men are more jealous, then to make those taste the sweete of good, who were formerly their associates and coadjutors in evill. So as France running ruine through the excesse of disorder, it was no wonder if England did establish herselfe through the excellency of counsell.

The English before they could besiege Roan were constrained to en­deavour the taking in of Pont d'Arcke, a fortresse seated upon the River 1418 S [...]ne, that so they might the better keepe Roan from being succoured. The King being not farre from thence in the Priory of Boneport, sent the Lord of Cornwell to sound the defendants minds, and to see whether the example of so many other places which had received his ensignes, would move them to doe the like. Iohn Graville was governour thereof, who be­ing resolute to stand out, the Baron said unto him, that he did ill to oppose himselfe against the King of Englands forces, for he would undertake himselfe alone with very few more to passe over that River in despite of him and all his people, offering to wage with him hereon his helmet with 500. Nobles in it, against the best horse in his Stable. Graville [Page 132] accepted of the wager, and placed great troopes upon the passages, Iames Harcourt being come to him from Estempes with 800. fighting men, and 12000. of the Country people. The Baron failed not to make good his word the next day: he brought along with him 600. almost all archers (amongst whom was a yong sonne of his owne of fifteene yeares of age) one horse, and some little field peeces, all which hee conveied over in eight barkes, to a little Iland situated in the midst of the River: from whence shooting at the enemy who were upon the further banke, hee so disordered them with his small peeees and his artillery, as that they were faine to save themselves, Harcourt retiring himselfe to Estempes, Graville to Ponte d'Arcke, and the rest to the woods, so as being past over with­out resistance, and having Knighted his sonne, he put himselfe in battell aray, and sent backe the boats, to the end that they with some others that he had provided, might convey over about a thousand souldiers, with which hee did not onely maintaine skirmish against the garrison of the Fort, but lodging himselfe in Mortamer Abbey, he ransackt the Coun­try, putting them all in feare and disorder. Graville being afterward jibed at for having so poorely mainteined the passage against so few men, replied, That if he had beene so seated as was he, he would have hindred the passage, not onely against him, but against England and France put together. But the seate was not the right reason of this, it was rather the bowmens cunning, and the terror, which without any evident cause doth surprise even the stoutest hearts, by the ancients called fate, but by us, divine providence, the which is then more particularly seene, when grea­ter things are done then were the meanes whereby they were done. The next day the Duke of Clarence passed over with 4000. fighting men, and the King causing a bridge to be made on Roans side, made himselfe Ma­ster of the field, so as the Country people having no place to repaire un­to, the greatest part fled elsewhere, and Graville having withstood a siege of three weekes, despairing of succour, yeelded the Fort, their lives and goods saved.

Roan yet remained, not that there were not many other Townes yet not taken in, but because if she were once taken, the rest would come in of themselves without one blow strucken. The King of France and Duke of Burgony, had sent thither made Captaines and souldiers to boot with the great number of inhabitants, who were all resolved rather to die then to suffer the English subjection. This siege was laid when the corne was not yet gathered in, to the end that hunger might assist the other forces. The King tooke up his quarter amongst the Cheartosine Monkes his brothers, and Lords quartered themselves in seven other places, to wit, upon Saint Kathernes hill, and over against the gates of Saint Hillary, Caux, Martinville, Beauvais, the Castle and the bridge. The defendants made many fallies to impeach the besiegers workes, slew some of them, and lost some of their owne, retiring themselves some­times with their swords bloudy, sometimes with bloudy heads. But for all this they could not hinder them from securing their quarters with great ditches and workes, and from accommodating themselves, as that though they found all the adjacent houses, Churches, and Monaste­ries beaten downe, and razed (particularly Saint Severe, Richburg, Saint [Page 133] Gervais, M [...]rtenville, the Arsenalle, and the Galleyes that were in it) yet they used such diligence, as that they wanted nothing requisite for a long siege, as they thought this would prove, the Cities strength being considered, and the Citizens resolution; who on the contrary side chased out of the City all such as had not wherewithall to victuall themselves, easing themselves (out of the number of 210000. mouths which were numbred in the City of 12000. of the most unusefull ones, as old men, women, children, and religious people; who did afterwards all of them almost dye for hunger in ditches, for they were not suffered to passe any further, that the City might bee inforced to take them in againe, the which she did not: one of the evill effects of warre amongst those who doe defend themselves, being to lay aside all manner of cha­rity, even though it concerne their owne blood, so as the King was con­strained (the moanes and outcryes of the miserable people flying up to heaven) afterwards to succour them, to keepe them from utter perishing. He sent the Earle of Warwicke and the Baron Talbot to Caudebec, a place upon the Sene, betweene Roan and Harfleur, wherewith they agreed for the passage of the English Vessells over the River, and that that Town of Caudebec should surrender it selfe as soone as Roan should either be taken or surrendred. They gave ostages hereupon, and suffered an hundred Vessells to passe over, which came from the Fleet, to cast Anchor under Roan. He made a bridge over the uppermost part of the River towards France, and displaied three chaines, a Canon shot off from the walls; the one a fooot and a halfe, under the water, the second equall with the superficies of the water, and the third two foot above the wa­ter; bereaving them thereby of all manner of succour. And because their many salleyes were the cause of the losse of many of his men, to no purpose, hee endeavoured to take it in by famine, being sure that their obstinacy could not continue long. Those of Saint Katherins, who had not beene diligent in making their provisions, yeelded themselves at the first months end, their lives saved, but not their goods: The field this mean while was full of Burgonian, Daulphinist, and English Colours, all of them to each other enemies, so as if the former two did backe together, the third made booty, the two carrying away what the third left.

At this same time sixteen hundred Irish arrived at the Camp, condu­cted by the Lord Kilmayne, ill armed, and but badly cloathed; but of such agility and valour, as they were commended beyond all the rest: whereupon a newes being given out, that the French were comming to succour the towne, they were placed where it was thought the French would come; they received this charge with unexpressible joy; and though the succour came not, they ceased not to do much mischiefe, go­ing and returning with more speed, and to better purpose, then the horses themselves either could or would have done.

The Citie had suffered much ever since October, their victuals were spent, happy were they that could get either Horses, Dogges, Cats, Mice, or such like uncleannesse to eate. The poorer sort of people, if in the streets they met any one with any thing of livelihood, they would flye up­on him, blowes nor wounds not availing to make them to desist. In three [Page 134] months space no meat had been publickly sold, and those who had meanes to purchase any, payed excessive prices: above 50000. persons di­ed of hunger, during this siege. They sent Eustace Paville, a Doctor to acquaint the King and Duke of Burgony with their misery, who when he had shewed how great evills they had suffered, onely that they might preserve their faith and loyalty, protested that if they should be in­forced to yeeld themselves, the King and Kingdome of France should have no greater enemies then they. The answer was gracious, that the King would preserve his good City of Roan, that within a few daies hee would so succour it, as that the enemy should rather bethinke them­selves how to escape away, then any longer to continue the siege. Words which proved to no effect, yet necessary to hinder the proceedings of the English to the cost of the miserable besieged; but not able to succour them by force, hee bethought himselfe how to give them comfort by a treaty of peace. Cardinall Vrsino was about this time come from Avig­non, sent by Pope Martin the fifth, to finde out some meanes how to agree these two great Princes. The first thing he treated of, was that they should send their Embassadours to Pont d'Arcke, as they did; but the time being spent in disputes and no conclusion made, he resolved to goe himselfe to the walls of Roan. Hee spoke with King Henry, he pre­sented him with the Picture of the Lady Catherine of France, the best meanes as he thought whereby to perswade him. The King after he had well considered her beauty, and praised it, seemed to be desirous of the match, if shee should come endowed with a million of gold, with the Province of Normandy (by him almost wholly conquered) the Province of Acquitany (by him likewise in a great part possessed) the County of Poictou, and all the other Signiories which did formerly belong and were hereditary to the Crowne of England; adding that he would have them free from having any dependancy upon France. The which see­ming very hard to the French Deputies, the conference was dissolved: For besides the abovesaid pretensions, the English Deputies explained themselves, that Charles by reason of his sicknesse, was not fit to make treaties, nor the Dolphin, as not being King, nor the Duke of Burgony, as not having power to dispose of the inheritance and dependances of the Crowne: That therefore it did necessarily follow, there was no ac­cord to be made but by the sword, which was onely able to satisfie the one, and inforce the other.

The breach of this Treaty did almost quite dead the hopes of the be­sieged; yet did they a while languishin agony, by reason of the great pre­parations which were made throughout all Picardy: but as soone as they perceived that the King and Duke of Burgony, distracted through their jealousies of the Dolphin, could not succour them, they resolved to hazzard their lives (lesse valued then their pretended liberty) and to goe themselves to procure and bring in succour; the which they could not doe, but by breaking through the Campe; 10000. of them well armed (the rest remaining to defend the City) rushed furiously out of a gate, from whence they were not gone two miles, when the rafters of the bridge breaking, as many as were upon it fel into the water, & those who remained in the town issued out at another gate to save their companions; [Page 135] the which they could not so soon doe before the English had already fought with them and driven them back. Those who fell, shared all of severall misfortunes, few of them escaping, being either drowned, bro­ken or wounded. The bridges rafters were cut in two by Guy Buttler, af­ter the place was surrendred; he was thought to have caused them to bee cut, onely because he had sworne loyalty to King Henry, and was become his subject. The Duke of Burgony did not cease though in this despe­rate case, to flatter them with hopes of succour, and that they might be­leeve him, he said, he would doe that which he was farre from being able to effect. He brought the King and Queene to Beauvais, and caused great troopes of armed men to come thither, which served to no other use, then to bee an oppression to the Countreyes through which they passed. Hither for their last Embassy came new soliciters from Roan the midst of December, who laid open what miserable famine they suffered: the misery that those endured who being shut out of the city, died in ditches, that they were forced to take up such children as were there borne, in baskets over the walles to baptize them; and being baptized, to convey them downe againe to their mothers, who rather expected death then life. That many died unbaptized; evils which had happened, and did happen for their service done unto the King and Duke of Burgony, whilest they on their sides had done nothing that they ought to have done, and had promised: that they could expect no longer: that if suc­cour were not immediately sent, they would render themselves to the King of England. And with this protestation they renounced what ever former loyalty, faith, oath, service and obedience, declaring themselves discharged thereof, since they were by them abandoned. They were mildly answered, that the King could not as yet succour them: But that shortly hee would not faile to doe it. But not satisfied with this un­limited answer, the Duke promised to succour them the fourth day after Christmas. Whereupon returning with more appearance of danger then hope, they were but sadly received.

At this time les Sieurs d'Arcourt, and de Meurle had gathered together two thousand fighting men, with a resolution to try their fortune. They placed themselves in ambush, in two severall places, not above 2 leagues from the English Campe; yet so neere together as that they might aid one another. To allure the English, they sent out an hundred and twenty horse, who meeting with certaine English, who were lodged in a little village, slew the greater part of them: the few that escaped, gave an a­larme unto the Campe, beleeving that they who had set on them, were the fore-runners of the succour. The King commanded the Lord Cor­novallia to discover the truth. The Baron tooke along with him, six hun­dred horse; and for guide, those who had brought the newes: not farre from thence hee discovered the enemies troopes, who turning about, clapt spurres to their horse, and ran to the place of ambush, giving as great alarme to their leaders, as the English had done to Henry. But the Baron made such haste, as finding them in disorder, and possest with feare, he made some of them betake themselves to their heeles, charged other some, killing and taking two hundred and forty, of which number were Monsieur de Moreule, Butor, Delroys Bastard, and many other [Page 136] Gentlemen: Harcourts horse saved him, and the Baron made a quick re­turne unto the campe, with victory, newes, and prisoners.

In Beauvais where the King, Burgony, and Councell were, (as hath beene said) nothing was treated of, but how to succour Roan: after long debate it was concluded, That during the enemies might and power, the Kings and Dukes forces were not sufficient to make him raise the siege. The Duke perceived this, but not with the same eye as did others: For he considered that if he should meete with any notable disaster in the succour, together with Roan, he was to lose the advantage of forces he now had over the Dolphin: That the losse of that City, though it would be a losse unto him, yet he therein should have sharers: whereas the losse of a battell would disorder and discompose his authority, his go­vernment, and his particular designes. A cautelous, but bad considerati­on: A Prince who sits at the helme in a Kingdome, ought to preferre the publique before his private good; nay, here his owne peculiar good consisted in the publique welfare: for his authority and greatnesse depended upon the well managing of affaires; he should have succoured Roan, though with never so much danger, for in the losse thereof, hee lost his reputation both with his friends and enemies. And though it had beene impossible for him to effect it (as indeed it was) yet should hee have attempted it, for in matters of difficulty, the world accepts of the will for the deed; hee should have shadowed the weakenesse of his forces, and in the faile of fortune, have given a rich testimony of his worth and valour; he might have presented himselfe, and not have been inforced to fight. King Henry was content to defend his trenches, & pro­hibit succour, not troubling himself about ought else: It made not for him to quit his trenches, and leave them to the desperate sallies of the be­sieged, to the end that hee might to no purpose, and with much danger fight with the enemy in open field, whilst by fitting still he overcame, his onely end being to winne the Towne, without or bloud or danger; and though it had behooved the Duke to adventure a battell, the disad­vantages were counterpoised. A City wherein was above 15000. de­fendants resolved to dye: despaire, an obstinate defence, almost not to be overcome: so as the enemy being fewer in number, and set upon be­hinde and before, if he were not overcome, would at least be weakned, and though he should winne the place, would be so weakned in his for­ces, as that he could not make any further progresse. The victory at Cressis, and Ajencourt had onely advantaged him in affording him a meanes of saving himselfe; for the small number of his souldiers, and his requisitnesse to passe the sea to reinforce himselfe, tooke from him the benefit of his victory. On the contrary side, the losse of men would not be of much moment to so populous a Kingdome, able of it selfe forth­with to furnish more: For great bodies are not moved, much lesse do they fall for one shocke.

The battell of Poictiers would not have beene of great moment, had not the King beene taken prisoner: for this now in question, the souldi­ers were onely to be hazarded; and grant the losse of the day, Roan suffered no mischiefe, which without this hazard was assuredly lost. But for my part I beleeve that the Duke did never really intend this suc­cour, [Page 137] knowing that (to boote with his feares of the Dolphin) it was im­possible for him to force a well disciplined victorious army, within its trenches, under a powerfull King, and great commander, unlesse he were mainly assisted by fortune. And events being uncertaine, are not of force enough to perswade to dangerous and irrevocable resolutions. The which if it were so, it may be inferred, that the reiterated hopes given to the besieged, the making of them suffer so much, and at last yeeld them­selves with so undoing a disadvantage, was one of those errors upon which they fall, who make use of publique calamity, for their owne pe­culiar good. Had he prolonged that siege to winne time, to withold the proceedings of the English, and quite breake them off by some great undertaking, he could not have been accused; but his not caring though all were lost, so as the Dolphin did not advance, proves it to be true, That who hath double ends doth alwaies amisse; since the moments of reputation, are not measured by the moments of time, which leaneth upon things casuall; but by order, which depends upon the rules of wisdome and fidelity: a principall condition of him that governes, from which whosoever hath at any time swerved, hath ever had the heavens & fortune for his adversaries. The examples hereof are so frequent, in past and present times, as it is a wonder so many do stumble against this rock.

The resolution of not succouring the Towne being taken at Councell table, all the souldiers were dismissed, save such as were to be put in gar­rison upon the face of Normandy, and of the Dolphin. Assoone as the King was gone from Beauvois, those of Roan were secretly admonished by the Duke to surrender themselves upon the best tearms they could. A death doing adue, which did utterly astonish and affright them. They were not permitted to die fighting, for the enemy was in a condition of not being enforced to fight; and say those of them who should fight, should die, a greater number yet remained behinde unable to fight. They resolved to send a Herald for a safe conduct. The which being granted, they sent six Embassadours, who were brought before the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Earle of Warwicke, who had commission to hear them. Their answer was, that the King would not admit of their sur­render upon any tearmes, save such as should best like himselfe. Where­upon a great assembly of Councell being had in the City, it was resol­ved that losing the foundation of some part of the wall, and then under­propping it, to the end that they might make it fall when they pleased, they would set divers parts of the Towne on fire, then place the wo­men and children in the midst of the armed men, and so throwing down the wall outward, they would sally forth in that manner with a resolution either to die or to make their way through the enemy, whither their for­tune would lead them. But the King hearing of this, and desirous to have the City whole and undemolished, sent backe for the Embassadors, with whom he concluded the surrendring of the Towne. Thus writeth Monstrelet, and with him the French authors, who as in this, so in many other things have punctually followed him. I will tell you what the Eng­lish say of this. The City sent twelve commissioners who were brought unto the campe, whilst the King was at Masse; which being ended, and they admitted, he gave them audience with a severe countenance. Those [Page 138] who had order to speake, said unto him, That the glory of victory in the taking in of Townes, and assubjecting of people, did consist in mani­fest worth: That there was no worth showne, and consequently no glo­ry wonne in the taking of their Towne, since it was consumed by suffe­ring, not by the sword. That therefore if like a generous Prince hee would suffer those who were ready to perish for hunger to come forth, that they might seeke for their livelihood elsewhere, and use his milltary rigour with such as remained, he should by conquering them, win that true glory, which a great King and valiant Captaine ought to seeke after. The King having heard their indescreet demand, and thought a while on it, replied, That he had thought they were come to surrender the City, not to read lessons to him. But that he did not wonder at it, for arrogancy is the for erunner of ruine. That the conceit they had of him came short of his condition, because they either thought him so ignorant of morall ver­tues, as that he was to learne of them, or such a novice in warre, as to governe himselfe therein according to their rules and precepts. And to the end they might perceive their error, he would read them a lecture, That they should therefore know that nature having beene liberall in some habit of strength to all sensible creatures, giving the use thereof in one sort to buite creatures; in another to men, she had given every crea­ture some defensive armes, except man, who being borne naked, would be inferiour to all other, if God had not given him understanding, where­by he offendeth others and defends himselfe better then any of them. So as if he use advantagious weapons against beasts, hee is not therefore to be blamed, because he followeth the instinct of nature, who not ha­ving indued him with weapons, hath shewed him (because he should have no reason to complaine of her) how to subsist without naturall armes. That therefore if strength bee a vertue, it consists not in the strength of the body (then beasts would be more vertuous then men) but in the understanding, which makes him that hath least force overcome what hath more. The which if it be to be understood betweene man and beast, much more betweene man and man, for whom this and all other vertue is onely predicamentall. And though there bee divers meanes whereby to compasse it, yet warre is the chiefest, And as every art hath its instruments, so are sword, fire and famine, the instruments of warre, of the which the commander maketh use by turnes; wisdome the soule of warlike strength, is the onely chuser and moderator of them; so as if shee bee by reason induced to quit the one for the other, none will blame her. That therefore if he who was chiefe commander would have used the sword against the desperate (as they desired) it would not argue strength in him, since he might obtaine the victory without exposing his men to slaughter; whose safegard is the chiefe end of a good King and wise commander. That it sufficed him to have sufficiently shewed that he feared not to use the sword, and that he was ready to demonstrate it when occasion should require: That France and they knew this to their cost: Fire made not for his purpose, hee loved what was his, That hee would preserve those conquests, the possession whereof was due unto him by his ancient and lawfull hereditary right, with out the right of Armes: a knowne title, and which of it selfe did render his conquests undoubtedly just. So as these two instruments being for the formerly [Page 138] alledged reasons laid aside, famine did remaine, as the onely proper meanes to vanquish them: The which did not bereave him of praise nor glory, since he was prompted thereunto not through want of courage, but through wisdome and understanding. For the point of sufferings, That he wondred they had a tongue to pronounce them, since in generall they could only accuse themselves, for from the beginning they might have made choice of that, which now by necessity they were forced to doe. And in this particular they had no excuse to justifie them: For the putting forth of their gates, Citizens borne in the same Country, privi­ledged by yeares, as were old men and children; by sex, as were women; and by profession, as were the Friers and Monkes, was an action as inhu­mane as contrary to all Lawes. Hereunto might be added that they ex­pected that succour from him an enemy which was denied them by them their friends, fellow Citizens and parents, who had exposed them to the injuries of aire, famine, cold, and all manner of miseries: That they had done them all the mischiefe they could, and yet blamed him (who had done them all the favours an enemy could do) because he would not suffer them come forth of their trenches, as if he had not more reason to keepe them in, then they to drive them out; the onely reason which had moo­ved them to so inhumane an action (if it might bee termed a reason) being the prolonging for some few daies more, at the cost of the inno­cent, their owne nocent obstinacy which was that which did onely de­serve fire and sword, and (if nature had permitted it) not one but re­doubled famins. That in answer to their demands, he would have them know, that though he knew he was sufficiently able to conquer them with the sword, he would not doe it; the meanes hee had made choice of, being the fittest and safest for his souldiers, and the best suiting with their deserts; That he would keep on his course, and that when they should be humbled with famine, he would further humble them with such pu­nishment as their obstinacy did deserve. This being said, hee retired himselfe with an angry countenance into his lodgings, commanding his officers to keepe them at dinner with them. These people were as much astonished at the Kings wisdome, as they were at his power; Af­ter dinner having advised of what was to be done, they desired another audience, the which was by the King graciously granted them; They desired a truce for eight daies, and having obtained it, returned to the City. The English set up in their campe three rich tents, one for their Commissioners, one for those of the City, and the third for the one and the other to conferre together in. The King named the Earles of War­wicke and Salisbury, the Baron Fitzhugh, Sir Walter Hungerford, Sir Gilbert Humfreville, and Sir Iohn Robsert, together with Iohn Vasques of Almadas, the City, Iohn Buttler and six more.

The eight daies were spent in contentions, accusations, excuses, de­mands and denialls, nothing being concluded: Whereupon, when those of the City tooke their leaves, they compassionately begged a pro­rogation of the truce till the suns next rising, and obtained it: When they were returned to the City, they found the people in such an uproare, as that they ran in danger of their lives, so as they went early the next mor­ning to Sir Iohn Robsert, intreating him to interceede for a second proro­gation [Page 140] of truce for foure dayes. To the which the King againe giving way, the surrender of the Towne was agreed upon the first day of the foure, upon three and twenty Articles. The chiefe of the which were, That they should pay unto the King 365000 French Crownes, that Ro­bert Linet, Vicar generall to the Archbishop, Iohn Giordane, Captaine of the Crosse-bowes, and Allen Blancard, should be delivered to the Kings disposall. That they should sweare perpetuall fealty to him, and all the Kings of England; and that so doing, they should enjoy all immunities and priviledges which they had enjoyed in the reigne of Saint Lewis. That those who would, might have leave to depart, carrying nothing a­long with them but one ordinary suit of apparrell. That the Souldiers marching out unarmed with a white staffe in their hands, and one onely suite, should sweare not to beare Armes against the King for one yeare next ensuing. This Citie was surrendred the 19 day of January 1419. Guy Buttler, accompanied by the best of the Towne, brought the keyes; and the Duke of Exceter tooke possession, placing Corps de guarde, and Sentinels where he thought necessary. The next day the King made his entrance, waited upon by foure Dukes, ten Earles, eight Bishops, sixteen Barons, and a great many Knights, being met by the Clergy and Citizens, who led him to the chiefe Church, where he was received by the Arch­bishop, and Cannons. As soone as hee had given thankes, he gave order for repaire of the ruines; and causing proclamation to be made, that all such Cities and Townes as would willingly submit themselves to his o­bedience, should enjoy their former priviledges, Caudebe, Monstravil­lier, Diepe, Fescampe, Arques, Chasteau, Neuf, Dencourt, Vernon, Mante, Gourne, Honfleur, Pont de Mer, Triet, Tancarville, Abrichier, Moleurier, Vallemont, Nucaville, Ballacombre, Fontenes, Nugondeville, Logembre, Saint Germaine upon Calli, Bodemont, Bray, Villaterra, Ciarles, Menill, Ferefonte, Beccrispin, Baqueville, and many other Townes, sent him, their keyes, and received in English Garrisons. The Countrey people, and such as lived in the fields, did the like; so as the white Crosse of France was changed into the red of England. Normandy fell into the hands of the English 229 yeares. After the time that Philip the second tooke it from Iohn King of England, which was the yeare of our Lord, 1190. Allen Blancard was beheaded, and the other two reserved to bee disposed of as the King should please, were sometime after restored to their liberty, having payed therefore great summes of money, and the go­vernment of the Citie was conferred upon the Duke of Glocester.

The Duke of Burgony was hee who suffered more then any other in this losse, whose authority being grounded upon the peoples good opi­nion, was in danger to have fallen upon his opposite. The evils which happened thereupon, were to be imputed to him alone; hee was the di­recter (if not rather the corrupter) of the State: hee who by his evill pra­ctises had got possession of the Kings person, had through his ill govern­ment obscured his lustre, lost his reputation, and lessened his command; not void of suspition that he had intelligence with the King of England, to suppresse the Dolphin: a fault not to bee averred, because it was not true, the opinion thereof though, likely to cause his ruine. He could not contest against two enemies, it behoved him to reconcile himselfe with [Page 141] one of them. His naturall hatred, his faction, his ancient and new inju­ries: his opinion of him to be of an humour not to be trusted, his beho­ving to yeeld the government to him, and the often denyed agreement between them, made him despaire of reconciliation with the Dolphin. With King Henry, set the warre aside (which may notwithstanding be maintained between generous Princes, without malignity or hatred) he had nothing of injury or offence. His affaires (being reconciled to him) were not onely to be continued in thir present condition, but bettered: for his forces would be preserved entire, to contend more vigorously a­gainst another: The which being well weighed by him, hee chose the later, and sent expresse messengers unto Henry, to perswade him to send Embassadours; with whom at Troyes in Champania a truce was con­cluded, by meanes whereof the two Kings (meeting in a Parke neer Me­lune) might treat of a peace. And though King Charles came not thi­ther (hindered by a new accesse of his accustomed indisposition) the Queene, her daughter, and the Duke, failed not to come. This fair Prin­cesse was by them of purpose brought, out of hopes that the beames of her beauty dazling King Henries eyes, might make him desist from his rigorous pretences, so as peace might be the easilier made, and upon more advantagious conditions: but where honour and love doe in­tershock; Honour though a friend, cannot but treat Love like an enemy: Honour is not Honour, if encountring with passions, it overcome them not. So as the King, though he were much taken with her, did not for­goe any thing he had formerly pretended unto, hoping if hee could not get her by peace, to win her by warre. They came not at first to the Ren­devous, but having made choyce of two neighbouring places, the Queen tarried at Pontouse, the King at Mantes, where he kept his Whitsuntide, and made there three Earles, Gaston de fois, a great man in Gascony, hee made Earle of Longaville: Iohn Grey, Earle of Tancherville, and the Lord Bourchiere Earle of Eu. The day of meeting being come, the King departed, accompanied by a thousand horse, and came into the Park, fol­lowed by the Dukes of Clarence, Glocester, and Exceter, and by Henry Beaufort, brother to Exceter, a Clergy man; by the Earles of Marsh and Salisbury: he there found his Tents pitcht, wherein he reposed himselfe. The Queen came, accompanied by her daughter, the Duke of Burgony, the Count Saint Paul, by twenty Ladies and Gentlewomen, and as many horse. A large pavillion was erected in the midst of the Tents of both sides, wherein they met. The King kissed the Queen and her daughter, and received the Duke of Burgony with much respect; and having spent some time in complements, the rest in businesse, they tooke leave one of another, the one retiring to Pontouse, the others to Mantes. The next day returning to the same place, they began the treaty, which lasted three weekes, Princesse Catherine not appearing there any more: for it was thought the nicenesse of her appearing would produce prodigall effects in him that coveted her. But the King persisting in his demands, and they in their refusals, no conclusion was made. This meeting raised mighty jealousies in the Dolphin, thinking it to bee a meanes to depresse him, as indeed it proved. And having no other meanes to breake it off, but by proferring to make peace with the Duke, which hee had so often [Page 142] formerly denied to doe, he set himselfe about it, intending to keep it, with the same minde as he offered it. Tanniques du Chasteau was his adviser, messenger, and he who put it in execution. Tannigues came in a time when the Duke (not able to make agreement with the King, without the relinquishing of many Provinces) was in a strait, either to condescend to the Kings desires, or to be necessitated to fight at one and the same time, against two powerfull enemies. Whereupon having greedily accepted of the Dolphins offer, and growne obdurate to the King, Henry (who perceived it) broke off the treaty, saying to him at his departure, that since by meanes of peace he could not effect his desired marriage, hee did him to wit that he would obtaine it by warre; and together with it King Charles, and all he did desire: and that if he could not get King Charles his person, he would force him to forsake France, as he would doe him the Duke. To the which the Duke answered; that he mought say and think what he would, but that in the effecting of it he would bee so weary, and so out of breath, that the King of France and he were not likely to be put to much trouble.

Reciprocall Embassadors, and Madam de Giac, a favorite of the Dukes, and a maine mediator in this businesse, had already accorded all differen­ces with the Dolphin, and named a seat in Champagnia, neare to Melune, for their meeting. Whereupon the Duke departing from Pontoise, with a many armed men, and accompanied by the Count Saint Paul, Iohn of Luxenburge, the fore-named Lady, and many other Lords of great qua­lity, met the Dolphin neare Povilli: when they were come within two bow shoots one of another, they made their followers make a stand, each of them attended by ten others onely passing forwards, the Duke light­ing first from Horse-backe, bowed himselfe oft-times to the Dolphin, before he came up unto him. The Dolphin taking him by the hand, had much adoe to raise him from off his knees, saying that he pardoned whatsoever offence, if any such hee had committed against him, that for the time to come his will should be governed by the Dukes will, to which end he referred the articles wholly to him, to be corrected, or al­tered, wherein they were not satisfactory to him: the Duke replying with redoubled obsequies they swore the peace, and after them all the Lords there present; their Souldiers in signe of joy, mingled one with a­nother, and cursed whoever for the time to come should beare Armes upon the same quarrell. The Duke would needs hold the Dolphins stirrop, (though the Dolphin would not have had him doe so) and ha­ving waited upon him a good part of the way towards Melune, he tooke his leave going himselfe to lodge at Corbeile. Some are of opinion, that the Duke had been slaine at this meeting, had it not been for feare that their people might have gone together by the eares, the which would undoubtedly have ensued, to the danger of the Dolphin, and that which followed doth manifestly prove it.

When King Henry heard of this agreement, he easily conceived it to be made to exclude him: he was not thereat notwithstanding dismaid, it be­ing his use to increase in daring, as difficulties did increase: and to give a proofe hereof, he forthwith surprised Pontoise. The Marshal Ibeadam[?] was Governour thereof, as a frontier place, and in-let to the Isle of France, [Page 143] which if the enemy should winne, it would secure unto him not onely Roan, but all Normandy; by reason of former occurrences many Eng­lish Embassadors had passed through it; by whose advertisement the King tooke occasion to make himselfe Master thereof, hee sent thither three thousand fighting men, who comming thither about the break of day, did not onely scale the walls, not meeting with any that made the round, but opened the nearest gate whereby they who remained without entered, and passed forward in battell aray, crying Saint George, the City is taken. The Marshall who was wakened at this noise, got on horseback, but seeing their number and order, he thought best to yeeld, carrying no­thing away with him but what he had in jewells and ready mony; the like did the garrison, and about tenne thousand inhabitants which follow­ed him, he went out of the gate towards Paris, whereof not having the keyes at hand, he caused it to be broken open, for all delaies were dange­rous. Thus did the English make themselves Masters of this place, not without ransack, though without bloud. King Charles not well pleased with this neighbourhood, withdrew himselfe to Trois in Champagnia, followed by the Queene, his daughter, the Duke and Councell; leaving the Count Saint Paul, and Eustas de Lactres, Chancellor of France, in charge with the government of Paris; the Marshall went to Beauvois, a­nother fronteire City of Normandy, intending to keepe it more warily then he had done the other; and he had neede to doe so, for he had lost his reputation in the losse of Pontois, and rendred him more hatefull to the Dolphin then to all the rest: the winning of Gissors, accompanied this conquest, received to mercy the Duke of Clarence; whilst the Earle of Huntington, and Sir Philip Lys did each of them make much havocke a­bout Cleremont, Abeveile, and Pont de Reine, returning loaded with prey and prisoners. Chasteangalliard and Roccagion, the two strongest places of Normandy, (guarded by the Dolphins people) were at one and the same time besieged: the latter yeelded at two monthes end, the other held out sixteene months; nor had it then yeelded, had it not beene for want of cordage to draw up water; a thing unheard off, and whereby we may beleeve, that they had made use of their sheets, and all other things fitting for the like businesse.

The Dolphin this meane while was not at peace within himselfe: for no torture doth more torment the soule of man, then that which gnawes thereon betwixt resolution and execution of a premeditated wickednesse. The feare he had the Duke of Burgony should make peace with the King of England, had forced him to reconcile himselfe with the Duke. The appearing end was the home peace betweene them, that they might joyn in expelling the forreigne enemy. So did every one thinke and not without reason, having compassed his first desire in the breach of the treaty, he betooke himselfe to a second; to quit himselfe (under the se­curity of reconciliation) of the association of an hated colleague: the Kingdome was not capable of two heads; he imagined that the Dukes ambitious spirit, would never give way unto him, nor would ever with­draw himselfe from government, whilst he had in his hands the Kings person, was favoured by the Queene, and had the people at his disposall: Besides all these provocatives, he was naturally an abhorrer of such con­tracted [Page 144] friendship: Resolving then to have his life, he came to Monstreau upon the River Jone accompained by 20000. souldiers; from whence he writ unto him; that having a great many souldiers about him, and desi­rous to imploy them about some usefull action, he desired him to come unto him, that they might consult what to make choice of. The Duke were it either that he did not thinke good to resolve upon any such thing, without the participation of the King and Councell, or that he did not affie in him, sent backe Tannigues, who had brought him the letters, with this answer: that businesse of this nature required the assent of King and Councell, and that since he the Dolphin could doe nothing more accep­table to the King and Queen, he wished him to come himselfe unto them, since their authority was requisite in such like resolutions. But the Dol­phin, who had already put on his resolution, which was not to be effected without him, sent Tannigues againe unto him, who knew so well how to perswade him, as that he brought him to Bray, where he tarried, thinking more considerately upon his businesse; hee bethought himselfe that to goe without forces, was dangerous, and not to goe, was to proclaime a diffidency: the first uncertaine, the second most certaine; and that if he should misdoubt him, he should be thought a man of small beleefe, be­ing overcome by redoubled embassies he was perswaded to the worst. The Bishop of Valensa, brother to the Bishop of Langres, one of the Dukes ancient and cabinet Councellors, was he who most egged him on to this. Valensa being abused by the Dolphin, did abuse his brother, and he his Master, shewing him that under such promises, such witnesse, and between so great Princes, faith could not be falsified; that trechery would be too apparent, which would not onely prove ignominious but dange­rous to the Dolphin; and that the Castle of Monstrueill, which he gave unto him, might be a pawne unto him of his true meaning, and safety of the Dukes person, wrought upon by these reasons he came thither, (his hower being come) waited on by 400. horse, and 200. archers upon Sun­day the tenth of September 1419. at three a clocke after dinner; a little be­fore he came thither, he was met by Anthony Tolongones (who had bin to spie what was done at Montreville who wished him to bethink himselfe well, for the bars that were placed upon the bridge, (the place appointed for their parley) were to his disadvantage, if the other had any intention to proceed fowly with him, wherewithall some what surprised, he stayed a while, taking new advice; some diswaded him from going, shewing him that to beleeve well, and have a good opinion in enemies, was good in the golden age; but for the present times they served onely to sup­plant the security of life: others perswaded him to goe, alledging an im­possibility that the Dolphin would commit so infamous and unexcusable a treachery; whereupon after having a while bethought himself, he said, he must goe lest it might be said, a womanish feare had made him make a new breach, which was not to be shun'd; if he should doubt the Dolphins so many letters, promises and oaths: that though he had reason to proceed more cautiously in this businesse, yet the world would not conceive the reason thereof, nor would concurre in the establishing of peace, if for the present he did not adventure his life, that he might very well lose it, but not without the greatest infamy that could befall the basest man [Page 145] alive, much more so great a Prince as was the Dolphin: Thus opinioned he passed forward, he entred by the gate which opens into the fields, in­to the Castle, which he found trimd up for him with all pompe, and ho­spitable magnificence: he placed a hundred foote to guard the gate which opened into the Towne, placing the rest in order without; the which he had no sooner done, but Tannigues came to advertise him that the Dolphin expected him, making new promises and new oathes unre­quired: the ten which the Duke was to bring along with him, were Charles of Burbon, Iohn of Friburg, Messieurs ae Novaile, Saint George Montague, and d'Ancre, Antony of Vergi, Guie of Pontaisler, Ciarles of Lens, and Peter de Giac, to the which he added Peter de Sanguinat, one of his Secretaries, giving order to the rest to stay behinde: when he came to the first barre, he met some sent to meet him, who by renewing the so often reitterated promises, made him suspect somewhat, and had almost made him returne backe, but his owne men made him passe on, alledging that so much treachery was not to be imagined, and that they were likely to runne the same shipwracke as was he; when he was passed the second barre it was presently locked, which did a little amaze him; yet resting his arme upon Tannigues shoulder, who was come to receive him, he said to St. George, this is the man on whom I rely; when he was come to the Dolphin, (who with his corslet and sword by his side stood lea­ning against a barre) he kneeled downe before him, saying he was come to receive his commands; but he giving him but a cold welcome, up­braided him with the not observancy of what was agreed on betweene them; and for not having made warre against the English, nor taken the garrisons from such places as should according to their articles be resto­red to him: to which the Duke replying, that he had done what was to be done against the English, and that he had made surrender of all such places, as by articles he was bound to doe; Robert de Loyre tooke him underneath the arm, saying he was too great a Prince to be so long upon his knees, but as he lifted him up, finding his sword behinde his backe, as the Duke with his hand would have put it in its right place, Robert said, will you lift your hand against the Dolphin? and at the same instant, Tannigues having said to his companions, now is the time, he struck at him with a hatchet thinking to have cleft his head, but did onely take his chin away; at which blow he fell with one knee upon the ground; and laying hand on his sword, wounded as he was with many blowes borne to the ground, whilst Oliver Laiet thurst his sword into his belly up to the hilts; Monsieur de Novaille, brother to the Count de Fois, as he was a­bout to defend him, was hindred by the Vicount of Narbone, who op­posed him with a dagger, and whilst he flew furiously upon him, to have taken his dagger away, he was by others slaine: Friburg doing his duty likewise was taken prisoner. St. George was wounded in the flanke, and d'Ancre in the hand, Montaigne leaping over the bars got into the Castle, the Secretary and all the rest were taken prisoners, those of the Castle per­ceiving the bickering, and not knowing of the Dukes death, came forth to the palisado, but driven backe by the bowmen, fled to Bray, beaten slaine, taken, and losing all they had. Monsieur de Jouvelle and Mon­taigne, with some souldiers, and about some thirty of the Dukes servants [Page 146] and pages, fortified themselves within the Castle, but wanting victualls, they yeelded it up, their lives and goods saved. All the Dukes furniture and jewells which were many and of great worth, were reserved for the Dolphin; such prisoners as would not take the oath, had ransomes set on their heads, and those who would were set at liberty. Charles de Lens Admirall of France and who was constant in his friendship to the Duke till his last gaspe, was slaine upon cold bloud. Iohn Lovet President of Provence, the Vicount Narbone, William Butler, Tanniques de Chasteau, Francis de Grimaux, Robert Loire, Peter Frotiere, Oliver Laiet, and [...]on­chore de Namae, Marshall Seneshall of Auvergnia, were the authors of this parricide; Madam de Giac was thought a confederate in this businesse, for that the deed being done, she withdrew herselfe unto the Dolphin; Mon­sieur de Barbasan not guilty of the treachery, but present when it was done, said unto the rest that they had ruinated their Masters reputation, and wished rather to have beene dead, then present at so wicked an acti­on: the Dukes body was laid upon a table, and carried at midnight into a mill, from whence it was taken away the next day and buried in his cal­sons with his hat upon his face, his dublet on (the which they had not ta­ken off because it was bloudy, and full of holes) with his bootes and spurs without any Christian decency, save a dosen masses, which were like­wise the oblations of bleeding hands and teares of woe.

This was the end of Iohn Duke of Burgony, surnamed the Undaunted, by him deserved, by reason of the murther committed twelve years be­fore upon the Duke of Orleans person, by his command; but his fault did not wash away theirs that slew him: and though in the former, am­bition was the onely cause, so as he could not be more wicked, and in the second hatred, and reason of State; yet the so often plighted faith, and swearing by the name of God in witnesse thereof, makes the latter more wicked and inexcusable.

The Dolphin who had promised himselfe great advantage thereby, found he was deceived, for effects are not alwaies taken away by the cut­ting off their causes, unlesse they be wholly rooted out: the sonne remai­ned a branch from which did bud forth more ruines, then either could or would have done from the stocke: if the advisers to this businesse, had had respect to the subjects relation, to the good and honour of the Prince more then to the jealousie of his authority, (the which whilst the Un­daunted lived, was fading) they would have seen that dying he left clients, subjects and servants ready to revenge him; that so detestable an action was sufficient even to alienate the Dolphins owne friends; that the King his father was subject to those that governed him: that his rulers were the defuncts creatures; his mother more then ever irreconcilable; the King of England fastned in France; The new Duke of Burgony as well heire to his fathers injuries, as to his estate and authority; that being de­scended from a turbulent family, he was not likely to be quieted without bitter revenge, though the worlds welfare should therein consist; so as the interest of servants, which for the most part doth ruine such Princes who are either very yong, or ill advised, did undoe the Dolphin; who not able in sincerity of truth to excuse so scandalous an act; indeavoured to cloak it by a falshood, giving out that the Duke came with an intention to kill [Page 147] him the Dolphin: but Montaigne published the truth of the businesse: whereat the King was troubled, the Queene offended, (who as was thought, did love the Duke more then became her reputation, after hee had delivered her from Towers) and the people which had alwaies sided with him, were herein confirmed; the Court remained as before, go­verned by such as did depend upon him, not staggered by his fall: He had a sonne by surname and actions good (who afterwards was called Philip the good) not violent, as was his father, but more wise; so as of the whole of so great a Kingdome, a little cantle did onely side with the Dolphin: his more southerne Provinces (which disjoyned from the low Countries, had no occasion to be annoyed by the Undaunted) were those alone which did sustaine him, and which after a tempestuous voiage brought him safe into the haven, thanks to the disorder of others; which are the chiefest, and most frequent occasions of taking away of King­domes from some, and conferring them on others: for the death of King Henry, the underage and weaknesse of his succeeding sonne, and the bad intelligence betweene the Uncles and Duke of Burgony, (the reason of their reconciliation) did after many yeares contrary to all likelihood, set him on foote againe.

Philip Count Carelois (whom henceforth we will call the Duke of 1420 Burgony) understanding his fathers death (after his sorrow and obfe­quies) consulted upon what was to be done, he had two advices given him; the one hee should treat well the Dutches his wife, sister to the Dolphin, since she did not share in the injury done unto him by her bro­ther; the other, that being to revenge his fathers death, he should seeke out the most effectuall meanes how to doe it; that friendship with the King of England being of all others the likely best, hee should offer him peace, and his assistance in his pretences to the Kingdome and his marri­age; for the Dolphin could by no other means be debarred of the King­dome, he who had cooled in his affection to his wife, his passion over­swaying his reason, and who knew her vertue did deserve this advice, honoured her and made much of her as long as she lived, which was but a small time: for what concerned friendship with England, (his father ha­ving chalked out the way unto him, from whence had he not swerved, he had not died) he thought he could not chuse a better way of revenge; wherefore he answered the Parisians, who after their condoling with him; desired his assistance against the English, by Embassadors which they of purpose sent, that they should not need to trouble themselves therein; for he hoped with the Kings good liking, to make a peace, which should secure them, and their friends, the which he forthwith did; he sent the Bishop of Arras and two more, with such officers to King Henry, as were very well approved; and the Bishop being returned with satisfaction, he sent soone after him, the Earle of Warwick and Bishop of Rochester, with whom the Duke concluded a truce, to indure till such time as a peace might finally be concluded, by meanes whereof the way was opened for commerce, betweene them, as if the peace had been al­ready concluded; so as the English souldiers, as friends and confederates, did joyne with those of France, and the Duke against the Dolphin: assoon as he had accommodated his home businesse, (having obtained of his [Page 148] subjects all he could desire) he came to Trois, where he plotted the peace and marriage: for King Charles did what hee was perswaded unto, and those who did perswade him, were the Dukes dependants, and such as were upheld by the Duke.

King Henry being advertised hereof, and nothing now remaining to conclude the businesse, but the formality of his Embassadours, hee sent the Duke of Exceter, the Earle of Salsbury, the Bishop of Ely, the Lord Fitshug, Sir Iohn Robsert, and Sir Philip Hall, with whom the peace, and marriage was agreed upon; the latter to be celebrated in that very place as soone as the King should come thither. As soone as the Embassadours were returned (Robsert only tarrying with the bridge) the King went from Roan, waited on by his brother Clarence and Gloster, the Earles of Warwicke, Salsbury, Huntington, Eu, Tancherville, Longaville, and fifteene thousand fighting men, making his journey by Pontoise, Saint Dennis, and Sciarantone; where having left some troopes to secure the passage, he came to Trois by the way of Provence, and was met 2 leagues off by the Duke of Burgony, and the Nobility, which upon the like oc­casion were in great number come unto the Court: his first meeting with the King and Queen was in Saint Peters Church, where he took his Bride by the hand, and the marriage was solemnized on Trinity Sunday, with the greatest pompe that ever was seen in that Kingdome. Hee corrected and altered the Articles as he pleased; the which being sworne unto by the King, Duke of Burgony, Princes and Lords, were sent to bee publi­shed in both Kingdomes: they were thirty three in number, the chiefest whereof were, That King Charles should enjoy his dignity, title, and Kingdome, as long as he lived; That King Henry should bee Regent thereof, and afterward Heire; That neither he nor the Duke of Burgony should make peace with Charles who tearmed himselfe Dolphin, without the consent of the three Estates of both Kingdomes; That the peace between France and England should bee perpetuall; That these two Kingdomes should never be dismembred one from another, but should bee governed by one and the same King, but under their severall Lawes.

Sens, and Montreville were the two most important places which the Dolphin did hold in those parts: so as the marriage solemnities being o­ver, they besieged Sens. This Citie would have held out longer, had it had any hopes of succour; but having none, it surrendered it selfe the twelfe day. Such Souldiers as would stay in the Kings service, were suf­fered to depart, their lives and goods saved; except those who had had a hand in the Dukes death. And though many of them did for the present accept of the English Crosse, they did afterwards at severall times for sake it, betaking themselves to the Dolphins service: of the inhabitants the oath of fidelity & obedience was onely demanded. Montreule held out longer: the Castle was fortified, & provided for a longer siege; but though they did valiantly defend themselves, the towne was taken within a few dayes, thanks to the assailants successfull rashnesse, who charged it on sun­dry sides, without directions from the King or Duke. When they had ta­ken it, pursuing their good fortune, and closely following those who fled into the Castle, they were the cause why many of them were drowned; [Page 149] they tooke twenty prisoners, almost all Gentlemen; whereupon the King having lodged his people in the towne, over-against the Castle-gate, did yet more narrowly inclose it, bereaving it of all hopes, save a rationall capitulation. But Monsieur de Guitres, resolute in the defence, was cause why twelve of the twenty prisoners, whom the King had protested he would hang, if the Castle did not yeeld, were immediately hanged be­fore his face, after they had in vaine requested him, and had their request seconded by their wives teares, and friends intercession. His inexorable­nesse was the more to be blamed, for that after so deplorable an executi­on he made good the Castle onely eight dayes. Hee came forth his life and goods saved, as likewise all such as would not remaine in the Kings service, those onely excepted (as formerly) who had had a hand in the death of the Duke. Guitres, who was accused to bee one of them, did defie his accuser, a Gentleman of the Dukes; but no apparant proofes be­ing found, hee was let goe. The Duke had sent divers Gentlemen, to cause his fathers body to be taken up; who finding it buried in so mise­rable a manner, tooke it up, and wrapped it in lead, and it was sent to Chertosa in Dijoune, where he was buried neere unto his father. At the same time his people tooke Villenense, situate upon the same river, putting all the garrisons to the sword.

The Dolphin on the other side made his progresse; for being resolved to out the Prince of Orrenge (who fought on Burgonies behalfe) from such places as he held in Languedocke, hee besieged Saint Esprite, and assisted by Avignon, and Provence, tooke it, and drove all the Princes people out of that Countrey. The which being done, hee returned to Burges, his usuall abode, that hee might raise what force possibly hee might, intending rather the enemies proceeding, then to give him battle.

The Duke of Bedford was come from England before the taking in of Montreule, with two thousand Archers, and eight hundred horses, and was by the King and his brothers received with much joy. Thus re­inforced, he went to besiege Melune: The King of France came, toge­ther with his Queen, from Bray, (where they had tarried during the siege of Montreule) to Corbeile. Melune was begirt by two Camps, with ar­tillery and such engines as were then in use for the taking in of places. Messieurs de Barbasan, and de Preux, commanded seven hundred fight­ingmen, who were within the towne. By battery, mines, and trenches, the assailants got shortly underneath the ditch. The Duke of Burgony, who had made himselfe master of a Bulwarke, did fortifie it much to the prejudice of the besieged. The King built a bridge over the Seene, to serve for commerce between the two Campes, securing the Bankes on both sides with good corps de guard; and to free his quarters from dan­ger of surprise, he cut some trenches on the outside of them, and raised some workes upon each end thereof, that so they might not bee assailed without great danger to the assaylors. The breaches made by battery, were made good by earth and bavens; the besieged omitted nothing wherein either diligence or foresight might stand them in stead: one ru­ine was answered by another, wherein they fought at push of pike, and wherein the King and Duke of Burgony managed theirs. King Charles [Page 150] was come unto the Campe, and together with him the Queene accom­panied by the Dutches of Clarence, newly arrived from England, with a great traine of Ladies, who were lodged by King Henry in a house ere­cted of purpose neare to his owne tents, without the reach of Canon; so as making use of this occasion, he would trie whether the besieged would yeeld to their King or no; but being questioned thereupon, they answe­red: that if Charles King of France would vouchsafe to enter there, he should be received with all due respects unto his Majesty; but not Henry King of England, nor Philip Duke of Burgony, their professed enemies: he sent this meane while the Duke of Clarence to Paris, giving him the chiefe command of the City, to the end that taking possession thereof, he might by English forces secure the most considerable places therein; as the Basteille, the Louvre, the house of Neele, and forth there of the Boys de St. Vicenne; the Count of St. Paule who was chiefe commander there, was sent to Picardy to receive the oathes of the Cities of that Pro­vince touching the peace with England, and to except of King Henry as Regent and heire, the which was done without any opposition: the be­sieged and besiegers were both but in bad condition; the one being reduced for lacke of better nourishment, to eate all manner of uncleanesse, the other by reason of the Prince of Orenges departure (who was gone with his people into Provence to defend his own affairs) & by the rage of a violent pestilence which had much lessened their numbers; insomuch as the Duke of Burgony was forced to send the Signior de Luxenburg to Picardy to raise more men, who returning shortly after with them ap­peared in so handsome aray before Melune, as that the inhabitants be­leeving they had beene the succour they had so long expected, did not onely shew signes of joy by the ringing of bells, but growne insolent did mocke the besiegers; an error of small continuance, yet not sufficient to have made them yeeld, if the Dolphin had not at the same time adverti­sed them, that he could not succour them.

This Prince was governed by the wisdome and upheld by the purse of the Count de Vertu brother to Orleans, and Angolesme, prisoners in England; but he being at this instant dead, he was like a ship without sailes, he could not move towards the preservation of a place of so great importance. The Town was surrendred the eighth of September, upon disadvantageous tearms; those who were guilty of the Dukes death, were condemned, a prime article, not to be forgotten, the souldiers were to be forthcomming till they could put in good security, not to beare armes under the enemies of either of the two Kings; that inhabitants submitted to pleasure, their weapons and moveables were put into the Castle. Monsieur de Barbasan, who was accused of being guilty of the Dukes death, was saved for that there appeared no proofes thereof against him, save onely insomuch as he was the Dolphins servant: This notwithstan­ding he was sent prisoner to Paris, and from thence to Chasteau Galli­arde; where after nine yeares space, he had the good lucke to recover his liberty; the place being then taken by the Dolphins forces, who, his father being dead, called himselfe King. Monsieur de Preaux toge­ther with five or six hundred Gentlemen, and Gentlewomen, and Ci­tizens, were likewise sent to Paris, put into severall prisons; the chiefest [Page 152] of them into the Basteile; those who were put to death were few: a­mongst which was one Bertrand of Chaumont, a Gascoine, a naturall subject of England, for that he was bribed to save Amicron de Lau, an ac­cessory in the Duke of Burgonies death, & though the Kings brother did intercede for him (for he had alwaies beene valiant) yet could they not obtaine his pardon; for reason of State would not permit Henry to give way unto passion, and to be partiall in the Duke the sonnes just revenge; moreover in right he was to lose his life, who saved the life of a delin­quent, not through pity but avarice.

Winter growing on, & the souldiers requiring rest after having been so long in field, the two Kings retired themselves to Paris, being met by the people and Clergy with great magnificency; they rid together, the King of France on the right hand, they lighted at the Church of nostre Dame, and from thence, Charles went to l'Hostell de Saint Paul, Henry to the Louvre, and the Duke of Burgony to his owne house, l'Hostelle de Ar­tois: the next day the two Queenes made their entry in the like manner, and were received by the City with great expressions of joy, and met by the brothers of the Kings, and Duke of Burgony, followed by all the Nobility; richly presented by the Citizens; particularly the Queene of England, and the King her husband.

The Dolphin had beene set upon all this while onely by the way of war, now they endeavour to opugne him by the Law; a businesse which did nothing at all import Henries pretences; his foundations were of a­nother sort, not supported by these formalities; for without them, without his marriage with Catherine, or his being adopted by Charles (all of them workes of supererrogation in this case) he was lawfull King; but it re­dounded to his advantage to second the Duke of Burgonies desires, that thereby, or by what ever other meanes the Dolphin might be by the people abandoned. Princes are subject to no seate of justice save that of conscience; all others are but phansies and tricks: fansies and therefore not to be despised, for such are oft times more embraced by the people then is reason: whence it happens that their authority being darkened, and deprived of its lustre by contrary opinions, they are subject to the e­clipses of their subjects disobedience. Burgony endeavoured the Dol­phins ruine his fathers murtherer; he was to open the way thereunto by the peoples fury; perswade them hee could not: for though the fault were very hainous; the guilty party was by the common Law, and Law of nature of too great authority with them, being borne their Prince, yet (men alwaies reserving some seeds of equity in them) hee hoped that by objecting this case, cloathed with the habit of justice, dyed in the colours of so many perjuries, treasons and breach of faith, hee might cancell the respect the people bore him, and by degrees draw them from pitty and commiseration, to hatred, and from hatred to armes. Charles the Dol­phin according to the pretended Law Salique (set aside, that Henries pre­tences were by the people repulsed that so they might repulse his person, not onely as a stranger but as an English man) was presumed heire to the Crowne. Moreover the murther of the Duke of Orleans (set aside the circumstances) was in its originall more wicked then this: if the Duke of Burgony had then beene punished (as of right he ought to have beene) [Page 152] in his estate, the Dolphin had had no occasion to bereave him of his life▪ so as the parity of fault, requiring parity of punishment, it was against reason, the second should be punished by justice, when by injustice the former scaped unpunished: whilst having no respect to the diversity of the de­linquents qualities, the Dolphin being a priviledged person as Sove­raigne, should be punished for being so, rather then the Duke for being a subject: let us learne by this; that mens particular interest is that which e­ver hath, & ever doth pretend; and that severity is quick sighted when the question concerneth others, but blind, when we are our selves concerned.

This cause was pleaded in the presence of both the Kings, the Princes, and Judges, in the low Hall of l'Hosteile de Saint Paul by the dowa­ger Dutches of Burgonies advocate and the Duke her sonnes, who accu­sed Charles (who tearmed himselfe Dolphin) the Vicount of Narbone, Monsieur de Barbasan, Tannigues de Chasteau, William Butler, Iohn Lovet President of Provence, Robert de Loyre, Ol [...]ver Laiet, and others of this murther; he demanded justice, and particularised in what punishment: this plea was seconded by a Doctor of Sorbonne (sent thither for this purpose by that Colledge) who by many allegations drawne from the Scripture, laboured to perswade the two Kings, to punish those who had had their hands in so grievous a fault; but no declaration being forth­with to be made, without the due proceedings in Law, the Chancellor answered in the Kings name; that by the advice of the King of Eng­land, Regent of France and his declared heire, all should bee done that was requisite in so important a businesse: so as the Dolphin being cited to the marble table, with the accustomed solemnities, and not appearing, he was for his contumacy declared guilty of the aforesaid murther, falne from the Crowne, incapable of what ever present, or future succession, and banished the Kingdome: the Dolphin hearing this appealed to his sword, the which was that alone which afterwards (by the helpe of the Duke of Burgony his chiefest enemy) did annull the proces, decide the question, and cut in two the sentence.

King Henry was to go for England after Christmas, to make new pro­vision or warre, and to cause the Queene his wife to be crowned; so as 1421 having licenced the three estates, who all had sworne obedience to him, he went his way, having the Duke of Exeter with five hundred fighting men in Paris, and in other places good and faithfull governours: he stay­ed a while in Roan to give order for things belonging to the Dutchy, and left therein the Duke of Clarence his generall; from thence he together with his other brethren, tooke his way towards Callice, and were recei­ved in England with such joy, as Kings use to receive who returne crow­ned with victory, and accompanied by wives, rich in dowry, grace and beauty, as was his: she was crowned at Westminster, on Saint Matthews day, where whilst the pompe and solemnity exceeded whatsoever of former times, fortune prepared funerall solemnities for the Duke of Cla­rence in France; a businesse which being very diversly reported by au­thors, forces me first to recount what the English say thereof, then how others relate it: for passion within circumstances of winning, or losing, is very great amongst them, makes them to contradict one another; & who doth not joyne them together, will hardly be able to extract the truth.

[Page 153] This Prince had made a select choyce of Soldiers, out of all the garri­sons of Normandy; hee entred Umena, and passed over Loire, placing himselfe underneath Angiers, hoping that those of the Towne would have fought with him: but they not issuing forth, hee spread himselfe o­ver the countrey; where, after having enriched his people with prey and prisoners, he returned for Normandy. Being come to Bewford, he un­derstood that a great number of enemies were at Beuges, conducted by the Duke of Allanson, the Dolphins Lieutenant, who had in company with him, 26 French Lords, one Spanish Captaine, Iohn Earle of Bow han, Robert his brother, sonnes to the Governour of Scotland, Archibald Dowglas, Earle of Vigtonia, Alexander Linsay, brother to the Earle of Crayford, and eighteene Scottish Gentlemen, lately come from Scot­land with 700 Souldiers (Buchanan saith, seven thousand:) hee was a­bout to set suddenly upon them, but did not: for, to assaile an enemy, not knowing his forces, is like walking in a darke night in unknowne wayes. He had at that time, one Ardrea[?] Fregosa, an Italian, who had been with the French, and who assured him, that the enemy was so few in number, that halfe his company was sufficient to rout them: so as beleeving this mans relation, who did abuse him, being desirous of glory, hee took on­ly the horse along with him, commanding the Bowmen not to stirre, and leaving them under the command of his sonne Iohn, called the Bastard of Clarence; betweene him and the enemy there was an uneasie and a narrow passage; through which, when without any opposition hee had passed, he discovered the enemy not farre off, and contrary to the rela­tion made unto him, in full and well ordered troops; whilst hee not able to retire, the passage being taken, which if it had not been, he could not passe over it againe in File, as he did before without danger: it did more availe him to hazard himselfe by making a stand, then by giving backe to venture the being shamefully cut in pieces. The one side fought de­sperately, the other bravely; but the English not being above one for foure, were discomfited, the Duke himselfe being slaine, the Earle of Tancherville, Gilbert Vmfreville, Earle of Kent, the Lord Ros, Sir Iohn Lumbl [...]y, and Sir Robert Verend, and neare upon two thousand o­thers; the Earles of Somerset and Suffolke, the Lord Fitzwal­ter, Sir Iohn Barckley, Sir Ralph Nevil, Sir Henry Iuglos, Sir William Bowes, Sir William Longiton, Sir Thomas Burrowes, and many others were taken prisoners. Of the French were slaine about twelve hundred of the best of the Army. The Bastard of Clarence, who after the Dukes departure, was informed of the number of the enemies, marched with all possible diligence, to succour him, but came too late; and the French having no­tice thereof, retired themselves with their prisoners, and did forsake the Field. The English buried their dead, and carried the Dukes body along with them, which was afterwards sent from Roan to England, and buri­ed at Canterbury, by his father. This is the substance of their narration. Chesne and Derplaix say, that the Duke of Clarence, a wise and valiant Prince, went to fight with the Earle Bouhan, the Dolphins Consta­ble, and Mr. de Faiette. That the French, though fewer in number, ob­tained the victory, having slaine three thousand English: And that the English Historians to defraud the French of this glory, make their losse [Page 154] lesse, accusing the Duke of Clarence of rashnesse, for thatnot trusting in the French that were with him, he undertook the businesse with his own men onely. Dupleix further to convince them, asketh, what the French men did while they fought? whether or no they stood with their armes acrosse? and that he expected they should couple imposturisme to their calumnie; and say, that the French had joyned with the Dolphins for­ces, to their prejudice. Monstrelet sayes, that the Duke of Clarence had sent his people into Anjou, where under the command of the Scottish Constable, and Mr. de Faiette, a great number of the Dolphinists were met: That Clarence hearing they were at Bawges, tooke along with him part of his men, and almost all the chiefe Commanders, being followed by the rest aloofe off. That he marched towards them with much dan­ger and paine, by reason of a troublesome passage over a river which he was to passe. That the Dolphinists being aware of his comming, and provided for him, after a keene, cruell, and bitter battell, had the victory; That the English lost between two and three thousand men, the French above eleven hundred; yet notwithstanding all this, they under the com­mand of the Earle of Salsbury, recovered the Dukes body. Paulus Emilius writes, that the Duke being come before Angiers, and having provoked the Garrison, and taxed them of cowardise, because they did not issue forth, passed forward to a little towne, where he understood the Scots were (who fought under the Dolphins pay) joyned to some companies of French, the which he carelesly set upon, for that hee was much more in number then they: but that being knowne by a golden circle, which as a Jewell he wore on his helmet, hee was set upon by many of them and slain: That notwithstanding this, the greatest part of his men retired themselves without or feare or disorder, unto Umena; where taking up­on them the white crosse of France, and finding the bridge over the river cut, they compelled the countrey people to re-edifie it, killing some of them, & leading the rest along with them, lest that the inhabitants being by them advertised, might have followed them, and that in this manner they got safe to Normandy. He speakes nothing of the number of the dead. Gaguinus sayes, that the Duke of Clarence being gone with a many Souldiers, into Anjou, did incamp himselfe at Beufort; that being at table, he was told by certaine Scottish Free-booters, who were taken prisoners, that the French and Scotch were met together at Bawges; whereupon, rising immediately from the table, he said, they are our own, let none but the horse follow us: that when he was come to little Baw­ges, he met with Iohn de Croix, a valiant French Gentleman, who being got into a Church, and having shut the doore upon him, was got up into the Belfree: that the Duke seeing he spent his time in vaine, set upon the rest; and being himselfe in the head of his men, having a garland of Jewels upon his helmet, hee was one of the first that was slaine by the French, and many other Lords with him. The Earles of Huntington and Somerset, and Thomas Beaufort brother to the last, being taken priso­ners. That the rest saved themselves by flight; but that finding the bridge broken at Umena, they tooke the white Crosse, faigning themselves to be French, and causing it to be mended by the Countrey people, they put them all to death, and passed forwards. Serres reports, that having pre­sented [Page 155] himselfe before Angiers, and having no hope to win it, hee set up­on the French Army lodged at little Bawges; that out of assurance of victory he was lost: and that together with him, there were there slaine fifteen hundred English. The history and Chronicle of Normandy re­lates, that being come into Angier on Easter Eve, hee understood that a great number of Scots were at Bawges; whereupon passing the river, hee in disorder set upon them, not tarrying for his company: that the Earle Bouhan, a Scot, had the honour of the day, the English being defeated and slaine, hee names the great ones, but makes no mention of the rest; but saith, that the bodies of the Duke, and the rest of the Lords, were ta­ken away, and sent into England. Buchanan reports, that the Duke being informed by Andrew Fregoso, or some other Scottish Free-booters, that the French were carelesly disporting themselves at Bawges, as thinking themselves secure, it being good Friday, a day dedicated to devotion; or were it because there was a truce for eight dayes, resolved to set upon them, and that rising from the table, he commanded that the horse should only follow him; that when he came to Bawges, he met with some scat­tering French, who saving themselves in a Belfree, whilst hee in vaine did spend his time there, the rest were advertised of his arrivall, that the Earle Bouhan sent 30 Archers to possesse the bridge, with whom Hugh Kened, together with an hundred others who were quartered in a Church hard by, all of them almost unarmed, as upon such sudden occasions doth oftentimes fall out, did joyne himselfe. That the Duke not able to make his horses take the bridge, being shot at by the enemies, was the first that lighted, and who wonne the passage; but that whilst hee and those few that followed him, got on horseback againe, and that the rest passed lea­surely after him, by reason of the narrownesse of the bridge, hee was set upon by Earle Bouhan, who had not with him above two hundred horse; That they fought with equall courage, and hatred, the Scots as having an occasion to give proofe of themselves, (for the French were of opinion, that the inhabitants of great Britaine, were good for nothing but to eate and drinke: the same opinion which the Spaniards hold of the French, and the Africanes of the Spaniards) and the English as having before them an unplacable enemy, who not contented to fight with them at home, was come to seeke them on the other side the Sea: That they laid load one upon another, the Duke himselfe fighting more eagerly then did any other: but that being wounded with a lance in the face by Iames Lu­inton, and unhorst by the Earle Bouhan, who let drive at him with a battle Axe, the rest all ran away, & were pursued till dark night: that there died about 2000 English, of which six and twenty men of account, besides prisoners, which were many. Of French and Scots very few, and almost all of the meaner sort. That others doe beleeve that Alexander Macelse­lan was he who kild the Duke, having sold the Duke of Clarence Coro­net to Iohn Stewart for five hundred pound, which was afterwards paw­ned by him to Robert Vstonne, for two thousand five hundred pound. That the Scots had the greatest share of glory in this businesse, and that for this cause the Dolphin made the Earle Bouhan Constable, rewarding the other commanders according to their deserts. From these expositions may easily be gathered, that Dupleis the latest of all other Writers, doth [Page 156] falsly accuse the English Historians. Monstrelet witnesseth the Duke was fewer in number, where he saies he tooke but part of his forces; the Chro­nicle, that he did not tarry for his men; Gaguinus and Buchanan, that lea­ving the foote, he tooke onely along with him the horse; that they taxe him of rashnesse, to rob the honour from the French; Monstrelet saies that he was abused by information, that he was to make a difficult pas­sage, and that the enemy was advertised and provided for him. Paulus Emilius, that he set upon them carelesly, as if he did despise them: that he would take onely the horse along with him, beleeving that the French were already as good as lost. Serres, that his imagined victory was the cause why hee lost his life: the Chronicles, that he set upon the enemy disorderly; and Buchanan, that he onely made use of the horse; that they have lessened the losse, they confesse 2000. Serres faith but 1500. none but Monstrelet, names them to bee betweene two and three thou­sand; an undeterminated number: Buchanan about 2000. hee likewise undeterminates; Paulus Emilius, and Guaginus speake not hereof at all. That any French troopes were with the Duke, neither English nor French author, of as many as I have met withall (himselfe excepted) men­tion any such thing; for what remaines, if it were not true that the ba­stard of Clarence came in unto his rescue, the Dukes body could not have beene recovered; that it was recovered, Monstrelet and the Chro­nicles of Normandy doe take away all dispute; and as Monstrelet saith, the Earle of Salsbury was he who recovered it, were it at the same time or afterwards: to say afterwards, is absurd: for flying from the de­feat, he must with danger of his life, have tarried somewhere, till the e­nemy was gone, or else have returned with new forces from Normandy, and to no purpose, since they might have taken his body away: he tarri­ed no where; for the English in their flight (according to the French writers) tooke their white crosse for their owne safeties, and caused the bridge of Umena to be reedified, lest they might be againe set upon, nei­ther did he returne, for being come to Normandy, he could not at the same time have made this voiage, and that of Alanson; therefore if the bastard recovered the body, the Duke fought without his bowmen: and if the Earle, it was at the same time, but not unlesse he were Master of the field, the which after such a defeate he could not be without a strong succour, which was that which did dissipate the cloud of enemies, which buried the dead, which recovered the bodies of the Duke and the Lords, and whereby he returned home voide of feare, not cloathing himselfe with the white crosse: but say that this recovery be false: is it possible the French authors (were it onely for triumphs sake) should make no mention of it? and if they deny not that it was carried into England, would they not say how it was granted, whether in change, in gift or by ransome? the English narration then (unlesse it be the equivocall mea­ning of the Duke of Alanson, wherein Iohn Speed erreth not, and which hath nothing to doe with this our affaire) is that which I shall judge the truest: which being granted, the Duke being but a few, was overcome by many, and not unrevenged, for he was indebted to the enemy onely for 800. carcases, he having lost 2000. the enemy 120. hee was a wise Prince, but not at this time; he preferred magnanimity before wisdome; [Page 157] without which the former is as an unbridled horse which runnes upon precipices, and ruines the rider; so as if his authors have accused him of rashnesse, they have done it justly not to rob the French of the honour, as saith Dupleis; rather writing as he doth, he that robs it both from the English and the Scots, for this act, what ever it was, was done under the happy guidance of Earle Bouhan their Generall.

The death of this Prince incouraged the enemy, for Normandy wan­ting now a Generall, they thought it weake to indure an incounter; they besieged Alanson; the Earle of Salsbury; who did ill indure the losse of such a place, gathered all the forces together he possibly could, whilst the French who spied his waies, expected his comming in good order, in­tending to set on him; but he, who came to succour not to fight, tur­ned towards the Abbey of Bec, losing in his retreat about 200. men, an easie prize for the raising of the siege; for the enemy having driven a way the succour, retired to Anjou, leaving Alanson free.

When King Henry heard of his brothers death, he chose in his place, & endowed with the same authority, Edmond Earle Mourton, brother to the Earle of Somerset; and calling a Parliament, he had great assistance; the Bishop of Winchester, his uncle lent him monies (till such time as the subsidies could be raised) wherewithall he paied 4000. men at armes, and 24000. archers, which he caused to passe over to Callis, conducted by the Earle of Bedford, and followed himselfe in midmay: the Dolphin did at this time besiege Shartres, a place of importance, defended by the bastard of Theime, and some troopes which the Duke of Exceter had sent unto him from Paris, whilst hee being weakned, suffered much for want of victualls; the City by reason of the multitude therein easily to be famished; the reason of this scarcity was, for the Dolphinists having made themselves Masters of Bonevalle and other forts thereabouts, did command the field. But the King being come to Callis, dispatched a­way unto him the Earle of Dorset, and the Lord Clifford, with 1200. men; by means whereof and by the newes of his passage, he stopped the enemies excursions: at Montreule he met the Duke of Burgony, who was come thither the day before, sicke of an ague; they staied three daies together, after which time the Duke departed, to procure for him the passage over Some to Abeville, and did obtaine it, whilst the King marching that waies tooke in Fertes held by Monsieur de Harcourts people; he placed there in a garrison of the Dukes souldiers; when hee was past the bridge at Abeville, he tooke his leave of him, the Duke ha­ving promised to meet him againe within a few daies, as he did; when he was come to Bois du Saint Vincent, assoone as he had saluted the King and Queene, he resolved with the Duke of Exeter (who was come from Paris) to goe to Shartres, and to fight with the enemy, to this purpose he added some French troopes to his owne men: when he was come to Mantes, the Duke of Burgony met him with 3000. fighting men; the Dolphins forces consisted then of 7000. men at armes, 4000. crossebow men, and 6000. archers; but finding himselfe much inferior to the Kings forces, he raised the siege, and retired himselfe to Turin, for one defeat would have beene sufficient to have ruinated all his fortune: the hopes of battell being thus vanished, the Duke past into Picardy; this Province [Page 168] was held in much disorder by Messuers de Harcourt, [...]'Offemont, and other Captains: he and his men marched without any manner of order, looking for nothing lesse then to be set upon: so as being assaulted at unwares, not farre from Mons, the Dukes Banner born by his servant, who should have borne it, fled suddenly away, and two thirds of the Army, beleeving that the Duke had been gone with it, fled likewise after it: and Pieron de Lup­pes pursuing them with an hundred and twenty horse, did so weaken his companions, as that the Duke accompanied by valiant Gentlemen, over­threw those who remained, killing foure hundred of them, and taking an hundred prisoners. This good fortune was accompanied by the gaining of St. Requier, which was surrendred to him by Monsieur de Offemont in change for the prisoners he had taken. The King on theother side made himself master of Dreux, Beaugensy, and other places upon composition: and returning by Beause, tooke Rougemont by force, and Villeneue up­on articles; having here made fitting preparations for the siege of Meaux, he passed thither in Boats over the river Marna, invironed it with workes and trenches. This place was defended by brave Captaines, under the command of the bastard of Vaures, and by a thousand Souldiers, besides the inhabitants, who were all ready to defend it: here did the King re­ceive newes that his Queen was delivered of a sonne at Windsor, bapti­zed Henry, the place of his birth and name did allay his joy; for hee cal­led to minde an unlucky prediction, the which though hee did not be­leeve, yet it is incident to man, to doubt of happinesse, and feare calami­ties: for evill events happening oftner then good, wee doe rather beleeve such predictions as foretell bad events, because they are likeliest to en­sue: So as turning to his Chamberlaine, hee said, that to himselfe who was borne at Monmouth, great conquests were fore told, and a short life; but to his sonne borne at Windsor, a long but miserable life, and a declining fortune: that he left the sequell to Gods disposall; but if the predictions were such, they were too true: for just so it fell out.

Mr. d'Offemont was to goe to Meaux, to take order for defence of that place; and the besieged had writ unto him the name of the place by which he was to enter, giving him downe a ladder at the walles foot, that hee might the readier climbe up: hee came accompanied with fourty Souldiers, hee slew some Centinels which were in his way, and passed quietly into the ditch: but whilst his men clome up the ladder, that he himself might be the last, it so fell out, that as he was passing over a boord which crossed some kinde of concavity, his foot slipt, and hee armed as he was, fell in: and not able to be got out without noyse (having broken two Lances which were by his men let downe to help him out) the be­sieged ran thither, and setting upon those who were not yet gotten up, tooke him wounded, and by direction from the King, hee was carefully dressed and looked unto. This chance did much trouble the besieged; who not able to defend the Citie without infinite labour (their number not being sufficient to defend so great a circuit) they abandoned it, and re­tired themselves to the Fort in the Market-place; where having broken their Lances in their daily bickerings, they made use of Spits: and the En­glish who were lodged in the Citie, enjoyed the like advantage: for they were freed from infinite guards which the great circumference of the [Page 169] place inforced them to keep. The King caused Artillery to be planted in fitting places, beating downe the walles, houses, and the onely Mill which was within that compasse; winning the which, hee did so incom­modate them, that if they had been succuored, they could have received no comfort without a counter-siege. This onely difficulty had been suf­ficient to have made them whilst time served, thinke upon their safeties; but their vain-glory to be buried in the ruines, made them lend no eare to the perswasions of an enemy King who did friendly admonish them. Whereupon force being the onely cure for their obstinacie, hee set upon them with a generall assault, which was valiantly performed, and more vigorously oppugned, the defendants being inforced, after much losse of bloud, and lives of both sides, to retire: and the defendants esteeming themselves victors, in as much as they were not overcome, were so puft up with pride, as after divers opprobrious and scornfull speeches, they did drive an asse to the top of the walles which incompassed the Market place, in sight of the besiegers, and causing him by blowes to bray, they incited his assistance to the besieging King: the which hee made a lesse e­steem of, then the losse of the sonne of the Lord Cornwalle, a young youth who being hardly out of his nonage, had through his wisedome and va­lour raised such an expectation in every one, as had not a Cannon shot be­reaved him of life, he in a short time was likely to have been numbred a­mongst the worthiest Captaines of that age. But these the besigeds un­civill, rusticke insolencies, were but of short continuance, like the last blasts of a candle ready to goe out: for they surrendred themselves, at the Victors wills, the lives of the meaner people being onely secured. The King used such justice as they had deserved. The bastard Vaurus was beheaded, and his body hung upon a tree without the Citie, upon the which hee had formerly caused a many English and Burgonians to bee hanged; whereupon it was afterwards called, Vaurus his tree. Dionegius Vaurus, and Lewis Ghast were afterwards put to death in Paris: the rest, which were betweene seven and eight hundred, were imprisoned, and their goods divided amongst the souldiers; the taking in of Meaux drew after it the surrendring up of many other places; amongst which that of Crespi in Valesia, of Pierrapont, Mertean, Offemont, Compeigne, Remy, Gurney, Mortemer, Neville, Montaigne, and others; Moy, Mon­tecurt, and Bressii, were set on fire by their owne garrisons, as unable to hold out any longer: the garrisons of Moy, retired themselves to Guise, and the rest elsewhere. King Henry was no sooner gone from Meaux, but the Queene his wife came into Normandy, with a puissant army of horse and archers, under the conduct of the Duke of Bedford; she pas­sed on from Hafew to Roan, and from thence to the Boys de Saint Vin­cent, where the King met her, joyfully welcomed by her, his brethren in law, and all the Court, and after they had with great solemnity celebra­ted the feast of Whitsontide at Paris, he tooke his last farewell of her, betaking himselfe to the first occasions the war offered.

The Earle of Warwick was gone with three thousand men to take possession of Gamach, which was to yeeld it selfe, in case it were not succoured by the eight of June, and having left there a sufficient garrison he tooke his way towards Saint Valery, having sent before some few [Page 160] horse to discry the Country: who being met by a hundred horse, they defended themselves, till such time as the Earle came in to their succour, whereby they were forced to withdraw themselves into the City, which was forthwith besieged; those within the Towne had the sea open, and the Earle had no ships, insomuch as they scorned his siege; for they furnished themselves with victuall by their owne ships, or else had them brought unto them from neighbouring Port-townes. But as soone as by his directions they saw ships come from Normandy, they grew to Arti­cles of surrender, if they were not succoured by the fifteenth of Septem­ber, which they were not: so as all the Townes between Paris and Bul­len, were now in King Henry's hands, except Crotois and Guise, the which Monsieur de Harcourt would never yeeld up, though in the Kings name hee was thereunto intreated by his brother the Bishop of A­miens.

The Dolphin this meane while sate not still; but being twenty thou­sand men strong, he went to St. Serres; he took Charitee upon Loyre, and besieged Cone, inforcing it to give Hostages to surrender, in case it were not releeved by the 16 of August. But their courage growing warme in this negotiation, and egged on by millitary discipline, they a­greed to fight a pitcht battell the aforesaid 16 day: whereupon the Duke of Burgony being ready to goe into Artois, advertifed hereof, stayed in Burgony, sending for people into Picardy and Flanders, and gave account hereof to King Henry, who was then at Sentis, intreating him to send unto him some of his men, under some good Leader. His answer was, he would send him none: for he himselfe would be their Leader. Whilst his mind being greater then his strength of body, hee promised what he could not performe: for though he were sicke, hee thought not hee was come to his last end; which in truth was somwhat bitter, & out of season to one of his years; who notwithstanding, according to the wil of heaven, was ripe, and at his full growth. So as not able to go himselfe, nor willing that the succour should come late, he commanded the Duke of Bedford, accom­panied by the Earle of Warwicke, and other Lords, to lead it along, pro­mising to follow them himselfe, as soon as possibly he could. But when he was come to Melune (his sicknesse growing strong upon him) hee was compelled to goe into a Litter, and to be carried to the Boys de St. Vin­cent. This mean while the Duke of Burgony being come before Cone, and having mingled the two Nations together, to the end that they might equally share in honour, so to avoid the difference which might arise be­tween them touching precedencie therein, he found that the Dolphin, not willing to hazard himselfe upon the successe of a battaile, had raised the siege, and was gone to Burges; so as he was forced to be content to have with his honour freed Cone.

The Duke of Bedford understanding that his brother grew worse and worse, rid post to the Boys de Saint Vincent, and Burgony not able to goe along with him, (for his affaires called him elsewhere) sent Hugh de Lanoi to make his excuse, and to visit the King, who finding his estate of life by all signes desperate, and knowing that he must die, finding his brothers, his uncle, and all the rest, sad and disconsolate, he wished them to praise God, who tooke him unto him in such a time when as his ho­nour [Page 161] was not subject to the inconstancy of fortune; that he was sorry for nothing but to leave them under the burthen of so weighty a businesse; that their worth and fidelity, did much comfort him; that the Lord God would share the glory betweene them, which he had had in giving a good beginning thereunto, and which they were to have in bringing it to a happy end; he willed them to remember what they ought unto him in the behalfe of his yong son; that if he did deserve to be served as his heire, and their Soveraigne, he deserved much more so to be, for that his innocent age had not yet beene harmefull to any: that it was their parts by instructing him in vertue, to infuse into him a disposition to gratitude and love, that by the one he might recompence service, and by the other affection; he advised them above all things else to keep the Duke of Bur­gonies friendship, and never to disjoyne themselves from him: that if a­ny treaties of peace should be with the Dolphin, they should agree to none, without the reservation of Soveraignty, the Dutches of Normandy and Guascony; that they should not set at liberty the Duke of Orleans, and the other prisoners that were in England, till his sonne was of age. To Humphrey Duke of Glocester he committed the protection of Eng­land, and to Iohn Duke of Bedford the Regency of France, with this cau­tion, that if the Duke of Burgony should endeavour it he should freely yeeld it up unto him: finally, he recommended the Queene his wife unto them, intreating them to honour and respect her as he had done; all the roome was filled with sighes and tears, in midst whereof they promised punctually to obey him: having thus freed himselfe of worldly affaires by his verball will, he desired to know of the Physitians how long in their judgements they thought he might yet live: But they referred the e­vent to the good will of God, whereupon he commanded them to speak freely their opinions; after a short consultation, the chiefest of them kneeling downe, said unto him, that for what the skill of physicke could foresee, he was not likely to live above two houres, a sentence which did no whit startle him, but calling for his Chapleines, he caused them read the seven penitentiall Psalmes before him, and when they were come to the verse, Benigne fac Domine in bona voluntate tua Sion ut edificentur muri Hierusalem, do good in thy good pleasure unto Sion, build thou the walls of Hierusalem, hee said that his intention had alwaies been (if God had granted him life) after he should have reduced the businesse in France to a peaceable end, to have gone to the winning of that holy City, but since that the divine Maiesty had pleased to dispose otherwise of him, his holy will be done; & they returning again to read the Psalms, he made a blessed and a happy end; dying neer about the same time his Physitians had fore­told, and having received all those sacraments, which by the Church of Rome were prescribed to dying men: he dyed the last of August, of a plurisie, a disease not wel known in those daies, which caused amongst the common people two severall opinions of his death, the one that he dyed of a disease called Saint Anthonies fire, the other of that called Saint Fia­cree, which is convultions, or extention of the nerves, hee raigned nine yeares, five months, and twenty three daies, not having fully compleated his eight and thirtieth year; his temperature according to the observations of physicke, promised a longer life; he was of a leane and sinnowie body, [Page 162] of a black haire, his limbs well proportioned and active, of stature higher then usuall, his face well shaped though somewhat long, endowed him with a manlike beauty. England hath had before and since his time ma­ny worthy Kings, but of perfections exceeding his, none: he was just, wi [...] magnanimous, valiant, I would say fortunate, if fortune had any abiding place with vertue: he undertooke a difficult warre, in a time when his e­nemies intestine dissention did facilitate it unto him, he thereby appeased his Kingdome, purging it of all its ill humours, he healed it, and made it greater by reducing slothfull and vagabond people (the ordinary plagues of common wealths) from idlenesse and vice, to warfare and honour, hee was served by inclination, and affection; the greatnesse of his spirit, and his heroique actions were the loadstones which drew unto him his sub­jects love and reverence; he was of an unblameable life, and an enemy to all vice, which may serve for a sufficient testimony for whatsoever else of good may be said of him: at home he spilt no bloud, save that of the Earle of Cambridge and his fellow conspirators; under whose ashes as long as he lived, and some while after, all civill wars was buried; and if he used severity abroad, armes his enemies obstinacy, and the lawes of war, must suffer the blame.

The end of the first Volume.

THE Henry the 6. FOVRTH BOOKE OF THE CIVILL VVARRES OF ENGLAND IN THE LIFE OF HENRY THE SIXTH.

BY the lives of the preceeding Kings wee have seene that the Civill Warrs had their begin­ning from the bad Government of Richard the second; that Henry the fourth did first commence them, and Henry the fifth suspend them; but that after 40. yeares Peace they should againe breake forth under Henry the sixth when the Government was established, Mens minds quieted and appeased, is a mat­ter worthy of consideration, which ought not to bee passed over, to the end wee may examine whether this hapned by default of the Subjects or Prince, and which of them it was that after the cure of the first malady were causers of the second. Wee shall find Arguments probable enough if wee consider the different natures of the two last Kings. Henry the fifth found a Kingdome usurped by his Father, so exasperated by the deaths and confiscations of many, as he would never have beene able to have setled and maintained a Peace had not his valour caus'd him to be fear'd, and his vertue belov'd by his Sub­jects; in all the time of his life he met with no other Conspiracie then that of Richard Earle of Cambridge, which was suppress'd as soone as undertaken, not for that Richards Heires were Children (since that Edmund Mortimer lawfull Heire to the Crowne outliving him, pre­tences were not like to be wanting to any one who durst have mo­lested him) but for that Edmunds fearefull, (or were it peacefull) na­ture, the tender yeares of such as were to succeed him, the ambition of great ones allured by honours, and inriched by forraigne Warrs, and that another King could not better their private conditions, nor rayse the publike honour to a higher pitch; were the true causes which did suppresse alterations: being dead the fortune which did accompany him during his life, did not for a long time forsake him in the person of his Sonne; insomuch as in his infancy and two suc­ceeding ages he was by his Subjects served without contradiction, [Page 2] out of hopes that together with the Kingdome he had Inherited his Fathers vertues; his tender yeares priviledged by his owne comli­nes, and the love of others, had not afforded them time to dis-deceave themselves in what concerned vallour and wisdome, (vertues in him of much expectation) whil'st the bright sunshine of other vertues dasled the Eyes of the wisest, for malice it selfe cannot but confesse that Henry the sixth was one of the best and holiest Kings that ever England had: if goodnes alone without the helpe of other vertues were only required to the office of a King; but there is difference be­tweene the vertues of private Men and of Princes, what is sometime to be praysed in the one, is to be blamed in the other; not for that the faculties of operation bee not from the highest to the lowest uni­forme in all, but that being diversified by the differing condition be­tweene Princes and Subjects, they produce contrary actions, accor­ding as the condition of those who operate is contrary, and as the wayes and imaginations of God are not such as are those of Men: so (all due and reverent proportion being given, if any proportion at all be to be given) the conceptions and proceedings of Princes ought not to bee such as are those of private Men. Very morall vertues, though the same in all Men are not in them considerable, but with a particular difference, for that becomes them, and they may do that, which becomes not us nor may wee doe. Henry was a good Man, but no good King. Hee was borne with good intentions, but of him­selfe simple. Conditions plausible in a private Man, misbecomming him that Raignes, and in all cases harmefull, for as wisdome with­out goodnes is a meere infirmity, so goodnesse without wisdome is a meere defect. Were it not the part of wisdome to put us upon those actions which in reason wee ought to doe, but only to make us simply or meerly good, he would have had no need thereof; nor yet they who are naturally given to be good. Those who imagin'd all vertues, though differing in name not to differ in Office, but that they all were so many wisdomes, did not perhaps beleeve amisse; ex­perience shewes us that without wisdome fortitude is rashnes, justice, severity, and temperance disorder, other vertues are common or in­different to all Men; this of wisdome in Princes is singuler. The goodnes of Henry the sixth was a Cloyster life goodnes, but as the affections of a King doe not befit a Clergie-man, so doe not the affe­ctions of a Clergie-man besit a King. Wee are borne under two Lawes, the one of God, the other of Nature; the which though distinct are not incompetable, if wee do embrace the former which hath no other end but the spirituall health, the choice is good, and much the better, if it be accompanied with contempt of the World, and mortification of the Spirit. If the second, (in which Princes are comprehended, and which joyned to faith doth not exclude saving health) to command and to Raigne requires active Spirits, as farre differing from this contempt and mortification, as ought a Clergie-man differ from the lively and ready resentments which are requi­sit Apoc: Cap: 4 o. in him that commands. The foure Beasts which are described to have Eyes before and behind, ought to serve for a type to Henry, [Page 3] for if the inward eyes of conscience were sufficient to him as a Chri­stian, the outward eyes of wisdome were requisite to him as a Prince. A Prince cannot be said to be good and innocent (though of harm­lesse intention and customes) when his simplicity proves hurtfull to his wellfare, honour, and Subjects. Goodnes ought not to be borne a Sister with us, but be begotten by us, wee our selves ought to be the Fathers thereof, our will the Mother, and Election the Soule; for though naturall simplicity or sincerity brings with it many advan­tages, hee is notwithstanding more to be commended, who hath not transgressed when he might have done so, for well doing is not defined by Ignorance of evill, or an impotency thereunto, but when a Man is able, and knowes how to do amisse, and doth it not. A bound which does not exclude the faculties of civill actions (as did Henryes good­nes which was borne a Sister with him) but makes them so much the better, by how much after the primary cause its objects are the se­cond, without which there is no corporeall nor civill life. I know not whether his education did concurre with his nature to the ma­king him what he was, but doubtlesse faults enough are committed in the education of Princes, in their Childhood they are observed with too much respect, whilst their discreet Governours knowing that some Witts require the spurr, some the bridle, ought to make use thereof alternatly, and with respect but not excesse: for by thus do­ing, they will not only make them be reverenced and beloved by their Subjects, but respected and feared by all Nations. However it bee, 'tis evident that Henry's ruine did derive it selfe from this simple inanimate goodnes, which lame in its owne judgment rested it selfe upon that of others, so as loosing reputation, the Soule of Govern­ment, he therwithall lost Authority, Kingdome, Liberty and Life.

The Conditions of affaires in both Kingdomes at Henry the fifths Death was such, as by reason of the good directions he left, could not be amended. His Subjects were ready to obey, drawne by the glory of so many famous Victories, and by the profit which accrewd unto them by so many considerable acquisitions. In France the home discentions of that Kingdome, the wisdome and vallour of the Duke of Bedford, and the good Commanders and Souldiers which waged Warre under him nourished hopes of more happy proceedings. And the two Brothers, Unckles to the Infant King free from jealousy and evill intelligence (the Duke of Bedford remaining chiefe in France with the Title of Regent, and the Duke of Glocester commanding in England under the Title of Protectour) did conspire, not only to pre­serve what they had gotten, but to acquire more: but the cause being tane away, the effects cannot continue. Charles the fifth King of France dyed within lesse then 3. Moneths after King Henry the fifth, who being incapable of Government, and govern'd by his Wife a revengefull Woman, and bad Mother; had by her meanes alienated his Kingdome, deprived his Sonne thereof and set dissention among his Subjects to the increase of Englands greatnes. Philip Duke of Burgony, who (according to the Councell of deceased Henry) was to be insnared by allurements, was by Glocester distasted, driven there­unto [Page 2] [...] [Page 3] [...] [Page 4] either by ambition, or love, or both. Whereby Men may learne not to build too much upon their owne knowledge, but to watch over their selves, every little intrest being sufficient to change us to the worse. Since Glocester, a good and wise Prince, ceased to be so when he suffer'd himselfe to be transported by his passions and private in­trests, seldome meeting with publique respects, those who looke af­ter the one abandon the other, or else do ruine both the one and the other together, with the State and themselves as did he. These were the true causes of the English retrogadations in France; civill discen­tions in France had establish'd the English, and the reconciliation be­tweene the Duke of Burgony and Charles the seaventh was their ruine. So as though the recomencement of the Civill Warres be chiefely ascribed to the losses in France, yet since they began not till the King was growne a Man and that the Affaires of France were little better then quite lost, there would have beene no liklyhood of any disor­ders in England, if things had succeeded well, and the Sonne had beene like the Father: for in the same manner as the one supprest the Con­spiracie of the Earle of Cambridge, and thereby wonne reputation, the other might have quell'd the Duke of Yorkes audacity, and have pre­served his Kingdome: but the Sword wherwith Scanderberg cut off arm'd limbs was not of the same temper when manag'd by another Hand, and therfore the reall difference is, that wheras the Earle did Justle with a strong and fierce Lyon, his successors encountred with a weake milde lowly Lambe. King Henry was proclaymed King 1422 when he was about 8 Moneths old, the Duke of Exceter and his Bro­ther the Bishop of Winchester were deputed for the Government of his person, and the Queene his Mother for his Diet, whilst the Duke of Glocester Protectour of the Kingdome, took care for all things which might make for Peace at home, or Warres abroad; the Infant King was brought from Windsor to London to be showne in full Parliament; his Mothers bosome was his Throne, and generall acclamations serv'd as the earnest penny of obedience. Ayds were willingly con­tributed for the perservation of what his Fathers worth had won. The Duke of Bedford on the other side surprised by the disadvantageous Death of Charles the sixth (which hapned in October the same yeare) and by his being forsaken by many who had formerly followed his Standard to follow the Dolphin (who was proclaymed King by the Name of Charles the seaventh) knowing how contrary to their natu­rall affections that obedience was, which those who remained with him had sworne to the King his Brother; did in a solemne Assembly cause new Oaths to be taken in the behalfe of the now Heyre, a thing readily obtained but very irreligeously observed, and had it not beene for the power and authority of the Duke of Burgony, a Prince of great Possessions and attendance, the affaires of England would not have lasted so long as they did; but they grew worse and worse according as he slackned his vigilancy therein by reason of Glocester, and the City of Orleans wherewith he was not trusted; by reason of the death of his Sister who was Wife to Bedford, and by his totall alienation, when having appeased his anger against Charles, the lives [Page 5] of those first Warriers who were his friends did cease. Henry in Paris was likewise proclaymed, and sworne King of France and England, Monyes were there Coyned with his stampe and the Armes of both the Kingdomes, whilst Charles of more yeares but lesser power, and excluded from the Metropolitane Citty, possessed nothing: on the other side the Loire save the Countries of Berry, Forest, Bourbonne, Lyons and Auvergne, the greatest part of Poictou and St. Onges did submit to him, in consideration that the Nobility of those parts depended on him, or else that they Neighbourd upon him: these parts were re­duc'd to such a point, that one part of their Territories being under him, the other under the English, they were necessitated either by complying with the one faction, to offend the other, or else to declare themselves partiall for the one of them, conformable to the intrest of their possessions. On the other side of the River, hee held the Countries of Mayne and Anjou; some few places in Champagnia and Picardie being forced to tollerate the insolencies of his owne Soul­diers, for not being by reason of his poverty able to pay them, they paid themselves by rapine and extortion upon the poore people, afflicted and impoverished by all sides. The Count de Fois had reco­vered Languedoc for him from the Prince of Orange; and as for Guienne the Count Cominges by inclination, and Count Arnigniac for hate to Burgony, by reason of the Constable Arnigniacs ignominous Death in Paris neare his Bulwarkes. All which effects proceeded from the Subjects love, for who shall consider his undisolvable dif­ficulties, will find he could not possibly have overcome them with­out the resolv'd patience of those who did obey him; who were con­strained to indure not only Hostile injuries, but likewise the injuries and rapine of such Souldiers as were their friends, who being uncor­rected and undisciplind were more of damage to them then was the Enemy; hereunto may be added that they had no Prince of the bloud to uphold them.

The Dukes of Orleans and Burbon were Prisoners in England, the Duke of Anjou resolute upon the recovery of the Kingdome of Naples; and Burgony their inexorable Enemy: but to dispute the contrary, 'tis likely that was not so much the love to Charles, as the hatred to the English which made them willing to suffer so much: for being but a yong Man about 22. yeares of age he could not have obliged them by benefits, nor in those yeares have given such proofe of himself, as to cause him to be desired: 'tis rather to be beleev'd that being born their presum'd King, their desire to exclude the English was that which did only foment their affections. All Nations do naturally abhorre being subjected one to another; the diversity of Language, Customes and Humours, causing the reciprocall aversion and hatred which wee find in them, and if there were no other reason, for that it is a kind of wretchlesnes (though not alwayes) to be overcome by Strangers, was a prevalent cause of making him be belov'd, he being the Naile by which the other of the English Empiremust be driven out.

When Charles had understood his Fathers Death, and caused his Obsequies to bee celebrated, in Espalles (a small Castle in Overgnie, [Page 6] where he then chanc'd to be, after one Dayes Mourning, he caused him selfe to be solemnly proclaymed King: and going from thence to Poictiers, he was with Title of solemnity Crowned: Reens a placean­tiently destinated for that Ceremony was by the Enemy forbidden him; so as France had now a divided Crowne, not easie to be peiced together, since two did equally intitle themselves King. Whilst it was easie for Charles to peece the divided minds of such, who either were not incumbred or wavering in Burgony's faction, whence it in­sued, that to preserve what the English had wonne, or to augment it, depended now no more upon the hope of ayd from France; but upon the proper strength and Councell of England: upon Councell that they might keepe Philip firme unto them, for friends by reason of their passions are changeable; upon strength, since the obstacles which dayly increased by the going over of so many to the adverse party were by no other meanes to be removed.

After the two Kings Death skirmishes were made in all parts, wherin certaine petty places were taken and retaken, not worthy to be mention'd in story. The Pariseans had sent a solemne Embassy into England to require speedy succour against the injuries done by Charles. The English Writers say this Embassy was sent to cloake under this pretended zeale the treason which they were a hatching, how to yeild themselves up unto him, which whether it were so or no cannot ab­solutely be sayd: but Du Pleis perverting the times, and mentioning the Conspiracy before the Embassy augments the suspition; they were sent back loaded with promises, the effect wherof the English did better make good, then did the Parisians their Faith.

Charles was by this time come to Rochell (being somwhat startled at some forces raysed by the Duke of Brittany, beleeving it to be done to his prejudice, and contrary to what was lately agreed on betweene them during his Fathers Life) where sitting in Councell, part of the Chamber fell downe, which with certaine others indamag'd Iohn of Burbonne, Seigneur de Preaux he himselfe being in evident danger, had he not beene suddenly drawne from thence. At this time hap­ned the surprizall of Ponte de Melone under the Conduct of Iohn de Greiville, who slew as many English as he found there: as likewise their punishment who trusting upon the Duke of Bedfords absence had appointed time and place for Charles his People to enter Paris, a plot which very well might have succeeded, had not the Duke by his ma­king hast hindred them for comming upon them with good forces; unexpectedly he put many of them to Death, some few escaping by flight: and now no longer trusting them, he put strong Garri­sons into the Citty and parts adjacent, wherof some yeilded them­selves, and some he tooke in. He sent for the recovery of Ponte de Melone, Thomas Mountaigue Earle of Salisbury, a man (according to the witnes of such Writers as are not English) to be compared to who­soever of the Antient Romans: and together with him the Earle of Suffolke, the Lord Scales, the younger Lord Poinings, and many o­thers. This place was beseiged all Ianuary and February, those which were within the Towne defending themselves valiantly upon [Page 7] the hope of succour, which to the number of 6000 was Musterd together upon the confines of the Dutchy of Berry, under the con­duct of the Count d'Omale, Count de Buchane and the Vicount of Nar­bone; but being come within 6 Leagues of the Enemy, and ordered in Battell array, there fell such disorder amongst them, that they re­turn'd; disbanded the greatest part of them, being defeated by the Eng­lish which were at Chartres and thereabouts, the which when those of the Towne understood, they grew into such a fury, as throwing downe in the sight of the Enemy Charles his Collours which were set upon the Gates, they tore them in peeces, as also all his other Ensigns, cursing those who had perswaded them to shut themselves up in that Fort, upon perjur'd Oaths of succour; they yeilded them­selves their lives only saved, the which was denied to such as had served Henry the fifth, to those who had sworne the finall Peace; to those who were Complices in the Death of the Duke of Burgony, and to such Souldiers as were Scotts, Irish or Welsh, together with Melene; they surrendred all other Forts which were in their hands, amongst which were Marchuse and Monliere, those who would sweare fealty and Homage had their liberties granted them without Ransome; the which all of them almost did; in particular Greville; mov'd ther­unto as I beleeve by his beleeving Charles to bee dead at Rochell, for when hee knew the contrary hee was not long in forswearing him­selfe.

This meane while Arthur Count de Richmond Brother to Iohn fift Duke of Britanny escaped away from the Earle of Suffolke, Lord Lieu­tenant to the King in Normandy, with whom ever since the Battell of Agencourt he had beene Prisoner. A civill liberty was permitted him upon Oath and promise not to depart, the which as long as the King lived was precisely observed by him, not listning to his friends who had sundry times offered to backe him if he would fly away, now thinking that by reason of the Kings Death, he might with safety to his honour escape, he fled; pretending himselfe to be free from his Oath, as personall to him that was dead: but who shall well observe it, shall find that bare promises not aggravated by curtesies no wayes due nor inforced, as was this the largnes of his Imprisonment, are of as much force in morall affaires with Princes and amongst such as are Nobly borne, as is an Oath in Religion, especially when as preten­sions not dying with the King, they together with their estates re­maine in title and in substance intire unto their Successours, if when the King dyed he had beene close Prisoner, he could not (without a note of folly) have said himselfe to be disoblig'd from his promise; so as having escap'd hee seem'd to repent that resolution, which though at all times requisite was then the more to be esteemed of, as it was now the more blame worthy, since his owne Death, and not the Death of any other was only able to acquit him of his Oath and pro­mise made. His first flight was to his Brother in Britanny, from thence to his Cousin Philip in Flanders, from whom he received a Commis­sion to procure a Parley betweene him, Britanny and Bedford, so as being return'd from his Brother and having concluded the Interview, [Page 8] Bedford went to receive them upon the confines of Normandie, all three of them comming into an appointed place where Philip stayed expe­cting them, the Confederacy which was contracted betweene them was confirmed by a double Marriage, the one betweene the Duke of Bedford and Anne the younger Sister to Philip, together with the County of Artois in portion, in case they should have any Issue: the other betweene Count Richmond and Philips eldest Sister, Widdow to the Dolphin Lewis. This being done Burgony and Richmond with­drew themselves to Arras, Bedford to Paris, and the Duke of Britanny to his owne Country, to whom Bedford paid 6000. Crownes for his expences in that journey. The inconstancy of the Dukes of Britanny in their friendship may seeme strange to some, being subject to often and momentary changes: but who will examine passages from the time that that State grew litigious will not wonder at it. I have thought good to give you a short breviat thereof for the better un­derstanding of the History, and to ease the Reader of the paines of seeking that in others which I should have omitted.

Iohn the third Duke of Britanny who dyed without Issue, mar­ried his Neece Iane of Britanny (Daughter to Guy his next Brother but now dead) to Charles of Blois, second Sonne to Guy of Chatillione Count de Blois, and Margaret Sister to Philip the sixt King of France; to the end that shee being the true Heire, other Woemen having beene formerly Heires to that Dukedome, shee might have a Husband that might defend her. When he was dead Iohn Count de Montfort his third Brother (who during his life had no wayes opposed his Neece) pretended by prerogative of sex to be Heire unto the State: so as Blois relying upon France, and he on England, they had fierce Warre to­gether for 23. yeares, in which time 200000. Men were slaine in that quarrell. To Count Montfort, (who as not having intirely possessed Britanny, was not numbred amongst the Dukes therof) did his Sonne Iohn succeed, named Iohn the fourth, after that Charles de Blois slaine in a great Battaile left him possessor therof. The King of France who could not by force take from him his Estate indeavour'd to weaken him by Interposition. Hee agreed upon this with the Widdow, and the Sonnes of Charles the Defunct, who renounced their preten­sions to the Dutchy and he his pretences to the Vice-county of Li­mages; restoring unto them (together with other obligations) the County of Pointevere, an agreement which lasted not long among ulcerated minds. The Duke beside these had two other great Ene­mies; Beretrand de Gueschin and Oliver de Clissenne his naturall Subjects, who having betaken themselves to the service of Charles the fift a­gainst the English proved so gallant Men, that both of them one after the death of the other were Constables of France; so as they having drawne unto the Kings pay the greatest part of the Lords and Com­manders of Britanny, who under their command had fought against Charles de Blois, they left the Duke quite bereft of Captaines, and Military affaires, and but badly obeyed by his Subjects, who were naturally inclin'd to the French, so as wrought thereunto by grati­tude (Edward the third being his Father in Law who had put him into [Page 9] his Estate) and by necessity (the King of France being his Neighbou­ring powerfull Enemy) hee turned sometimes one way sometimes another, till being abandoned by his Subjects, it behoved him to re­tire himselfe into England, forsaking his Countrey least he should be made Prisoner by them; not for that they hated him, but for that they hated his friendship with the English, whom they thought to be the cause of their ruine, being at last aware that the King of France molested him, not out of the pretended suspitions, but to bereave him of his Estate, they sent for him backe a little before the Death of Charles the fift; wherby hoping now to be in quiet, to please them he renounced his friendship with England, and sided with Charles the 6 t, who succeeded to Charles the fift. Clissonne who was of greater pow­er with the now King then he had been with the former, finding him without his leaning stocke, Ransomed Iohn Count de Pointevere from his Imprisonment in England, upon whom (as Sonne to Charles de Blois, and Iane of Britanny Heire to Iohn the third) the pretences to the Dutchy fell, and Marrying him to one of his Daughters, he be­gan under that pretext to trouble him againe, the which though it were done under the name of the Count de Pointevere, yet it being the forces of France which did most oppresse him, he was forced to betake himselfe to his accustomed Protection of England, without the which as he could not preserve himselfe being surmounted by France, so could he find no peace to affie in with France, being betrayed and dis­obeyed by his Subjects, at last having reconciled himselfe to Clis­sonne, and both of them being dead, Iohn the fift his Sonne (he of of whom wee now speake) brought up in France under the Govern­ment of Iohn Duke of Burgony Sonne in Law to Charles the sixt, would have beene constant, if the French had knowne how to con­ceale their desire of taking from him his Estate; a thing which he de­served not, for he had sundry times given them proofes of his good will, especially when being come to Amiens with 10000. fighting Men, two dayes before the battell of Agencourt, he sent to the Com­manders to desire them to stay for him, the which to their Cost they would not doe, his Brother the Count de Richmond being there sorely wounded and taken Prisoner. France by this and other losses grow­ing into a bad condition. Henry the fift being powerfull in Normandy, and he having beene treacherously made Prisoner by Pointeveres Bre­theren, and set at liberty by his Subjects, and knowing by certaine of the Kings and Dolphins letters which came into his hands, that it was they who had beene the boutefe [...]'s (to boote that it made not for him to have so puissant an Army upon his confines) he made a­greement with Henry and afterward forsooke him, being naturally inclyn'd to the other side, at last the two Kings being dead; to com­ply with Philip of Burgony, he condescended to this last confederacy with the Duke of Bedford at Amiens. The following inconstancies will be by this story manifested, one thing only remaines to be super­ficiously knowne, that Britanny was never at quiet, till such time as (Lewis the twelfth having Married Anne the last Heire, of whom came Claudia and Renete; the latter Married to Hercules the second Duke of [Page 10] Ferrara, the former to Francis the first King of France) shee was by the said Francis united to the Crowne of France.

The Duke of Bedford made but small abode after his returne to Paris, for having assembled a great number of Souldiers, he went to celebrate his Marriage at Blois in Champania, whether his Wife was brought accompanied with a great number of the chiefest Ladies and Lords of Burgony; the Marriage being consummated and the solem­nities over, he brought her along with him, not forbearing by the way as he came to besiege Pons upon the Seene which he tooke by assault, putting the defendants to the Sword, so as his Wife amidsts armes and bloud was brought to Paris.

The Earle of Salisbury was gone to besiege Montegulionna a little Fort but of much inconvenience to the Neighbouring parts: for be­ing hardly to be taken, for Garrison (though not of above 120. Men) was become very insolent: he spent there 6 Moneths, having indea­voured, though in vaine, at his first comming to take it by assault. This meane while William Stuart Constable of Scotland was come into France with 3000. Scotts, with whom together with certaine others that were added unto him by Charles, he went to besiege Crevant a place which held for the Duke of Burgony whose Mother (he being himselfe in the Low Countries) gave order to Tonlongonne his Marshall to succour it, having advertis'd the Regent Bedford, that he might doe as much on his side. Salisbury was comanded to assist in this succour, so as leaving Men sufficient to continue the siege, he joyned himselfe with Tonlongonne in Auserres; and being come within a quarter of a league of Crevant, they lighted making their Horses be led aloofe of from the Army, to the end that they might rely upon their Souldi­ers Armes not their Horses leggs; they marched slowly up unto the Enemy that they might not tyre themselves being much incumbred by the Sunne, which in Iuly seem'd to them (being arm'd) and in March, to be very hot. The Scotch Campe was augmented by 600. Spanish Horse sent thither by Charles under the Conduct of Marishall Severa [...] to boote with whom was come the Count de Vantadore, and many others; these were placed upon an advantageous Hill, by which the English were to have come if they had taken that way, but cōming another way, they could not joyne Battell for the River Iona was betweene them. Such was the will they had to fight as drew them downe into the plaine, keeping themselves in readynes, the one nor the other side not doing any thing for almost the space of 3. Howres. The first that mov'd were the English and Burgonians, as those who were come with a resolution to fight, they set upon a Bridge defended by the Enemy, and having wonne it passed forward, whilst those of the Town sallyed forth to second them, the Battell was fought with vallour, resolution and hatred, but the Scotts who had placed them­selves in the Forefront of the Battell, being almost all slaine or taken Prisoners (amongst the number of Prisoners were the Constable and the Count de Ventadoure, each of them with like misfortune having lost an eye) and the French set upon behind by the Garrison of Crevent, the Assailants wonne the field having slaine 1200. of the Enemies, [Page 11] and taken 400. Prisoners. This Victory, to boote with the freeing of Crevant, was accompanied with the taking in of Cussi Chasteau de La Roche Schartres upon the Loire, Mondidiere, Abbeville, and Han upon the Soame. This is the relation made by Monstrelette and the French Wri­ters. The English Writers who do particularly name the chiefe of those who were slaine or taken Prisoners, affirme: that their Men past the River, forcing not only the Bridge but the Foords: that besides the chiefe Men whom they name, and the ordinary Souldiers which they put not into this number, they slew 1800. French Gentlemen, 3000. Scotts, amongst which the Lord of S t. Iohnstonne and 12. Knights whose names they relate, and tooke 2200. French Prisoners all Gentlemen; that on their side were slaine 2100, amongst which S r Iohn Gray, S r. William Hale, S r. Gilbert Halsull, and S r. Richard Ma­docks. Boetius, and Buchanan speake nothing at all of this: let the Reader beleeve as he listeth. After this bickering the Earle of Salisbury re­turn'd to his Siege of Montaguliome where he found that the defendants of 120. that they were, were reduc'd to 30, the rest having forsaken the place, to the end that the Victualls might hold out the longer to those that remained; but when they had eaten all their Horses, they could not though yeelding up the Towne save their lives with­out the summe of 22000. peeces of Gold by them there called Saluti; which they obliged themselves to pay, leaving foure of the chiefest of them for their security. On the contrary side the Marishall To­longonus at his returne found not foretime with so smiling an aspect, for beleeving that by Monyes he had corrupted the Captaine of a Fort called la Busiere, he was abused through too much beleefe; for whilst he went to actuate the bargaine, the Captaine having fitly placed two Ambushes brought him together with 11. others into the Castle, where taking him Prisoner he at the same time caused al­most all those that were without to be slaine, and had it not beene for the Imprisonment of the Count de Ventadoure, for whom he was changed, he had not beene soone set at liberty. This Yeare in the Moneth of Iuly was the first Sonne of Charles borne, who in his due time succeeded him in his Kingdome by the name of Lovis the 11. a phantasticall Prince and almost ever rebellious towards his Father, so as whilst he thought to have beene at quiet being free from the English Warres, he gave against his Sons turbulencies; which brought him to his end before his time, marcerated by jealousy and slaine by suspition: His birth notwithstanding (so uncertaine are wee of fu­ture events) brought unto him great cause of joy; for the pledge of a Successor increaseth the Subjects love: he was howsoever a great Prince, who proved successefull in the rules of dissimulation, rather borne together with them then learnt of any other. Ghirard de Hallian describes him to be malicious, wary, cruell, and full of Cousenage.

In England this meane while it was resolv'd to give libertie to Iames the first King of Scotland, after 18. yeares Imprisonment; which caused to the first mover therof (since home hatred, not love nor Charity had moved him to indevour it) instead of gratitude, un­happy successe, and an ignominous end.

[Page 12] Robert Duke of Albany, Governor of Scotland, being dead the yeare 1420. (just 15. Yeares after the Death of his Brother Robert the third) his Sonne Mordecay succeeded him in the Government, one who re­sembled his Father in the profuse spending of the goods of the Crowne amongst the Nobility, to the end that forgetting the Priso­ner King, they might be content with the present condition, and was like the King his Unckle in his Children; for having neither ability nor wit to cause himselfe to be obeyed by them, he was through de­sparation, and despite reduc'd to ruine at the same time, both them and himselfe. Of the 3. (for 3. they were) Walter was the most insolent, although they shar'd all alike in haughtines and disrespecting others. Pride and the neglect of Inferiors was by them esteemed gravity, and what became them; and such insolent actions as arise from them proper and naturall to Men of royall Lynage, and to generous and magnanimous Hearts. Mordecay had often times admonished them, but because in stead of reaping fruite therby, he was laugh'd at by them, he tooke no further care therof, placing all his dislikes upon the backe of Patience, till such time as the burthen grew too heavy for him to beare. He very much lov'd field sports, especially Hawking, and having one Day an ex'lent Faulkon on his Fist, Walter did with such incivility require it on him, as he denying it, the other snatcht it from his hand, wrung off the necke, and threw the Carkasse at his feete: at which the Father being incensed, sayd unto him, that since he had in vaine used all meanes possible to bring him to obedi­ence, he was resolv'd to find out one whom both his Sonne and he should be forced to obey, and he effected his words; for a Parliament being immediatly called, the Kings freedome was resolv'd upon, Embassadors were chosen and sent into England; where their request was maturely consulted on; those who were against it alleadged; that having beene detained so many yeares, his Captivity was by him to bee esteemed an injury never to be forgotten, and for the which he would take present revenge, since England was now busied abroad, that being at liberty he would regulate the disorders of Scotland, the Governors authority not being sufficient to quench the conten­tions which Day by Day grew greater among the great ones, nor to remedy the Thefts, Murders and Rapines, which as it were by repri­sall was committed by the common People; so as since nothing could prove more advantageous for the affaires of England, all alteration was pernitious. Others being of a contrary opinion, affirmed his Captivity was so unlikely to raise in him any such conceits, that it was rather by him to be accounted the originall of all his good for­tune, since that living there safe from his Unckles snares, he was falne into the hands of two Kings, who proving Fathers to him in educa­tion, were not therfore much commended by such, who preferre what is usefull to what is honest; who argue that a worser resolution could not have beene taken then to have perfected wisdome by study, and strength by the exercise of Armes in a Prince of so sublime incli­nations; whilst to do well they should have brought him up in all common vices, and have made him effeminate amongst the worst of [Page 13] conversations: that to have done otherwise was as much as to expect what befell him, who nurs'd up a Snake in his bosome which when it had recover'd his heate slew him, that had preserv'd it: fitting con­siderations for Tyrant Princes, but not for such as were so given as were these two Kings; for if the one by making him Prisoner, the other by detaining him had had respect to their owne proper intrests, they would have treated him as an Enemy; but their having inrich'd him with so vertuous education, not to be lost neither by liberty nor Imprisonment, was so rare and unparalell'd an example, as he beyond all others was ever to acknowledge such. The Duke of Glocester who thought there could bee no better meanes then this to joyne Scotland and England and sever it from France, concluded his freedome setting a fine upon him of 100000. Marks, and giving him for Wife Ioane Daughter to the Earle of Somerset, Cousin-german to Henry the fift, and Neece to the Bishop of Winchester whom he loved, so as ha­ving payed part of his Ransome with his Wifes Portion, and given in Hostages for the rest (the which was afterwards payed by the Sub­jects in so good a manner as that they seemed not to be therewithall any whit aggreived) he went his wayes nobly waited upon to his con­fines by his ancient friends, by his new allyes and richly presented by his Father in Law. Being come into his Kingdome he found it like a Ship tossed by the Seas. Nothing remaining for maintenance of the Crowne save only the Customes, the rest was all squandred away and bestowed upon particular Men by the two succeeding Governours: Robert the Father, and Mordecay the Sonne, to the end that not min­ding his returne they might adhere unto them: to publique grievances private ones succeeded; the first complaints were against Walter, who was Imprison'd; and after him Mordecay and Alexander, Iames who was the third growing hereat mad, thinking to redresse evill by evills; assaulted Dumbartaine a populous Citty, where letting loose the raines unto his fury, he put Men, Women and Children unto the Sword, none being excepted from this Cruelty save such as fled: being by the King pursued, he fled into Ireland leaving his Father and his Brethren in the Hangmens hands, who were shortly after beheaded. He carried himselfe towards England as did his predecessors, notwith­standing his Allyment, Oaths, and benefits received; wherof the Eng­lish Writers accusing him, and the Scottish recriminating mov'd by passion, they leave the story and fall to invective speeches, whereas the accusers should consider, that as our understanding works di­versly in us according to the diversity of our temperatures, so Princes who are the states understanding, worke only according to the in­terest of state which is their temperature. Obligations and curtesies things apart and externe give place to this interne inseparable dispo­sition, in like manner as desire gives way to nature, in that which by nature cannot bee otherwise. It made not for Scotland that England should bee Master of France, since they might then feare their owne subjection. Henry the seaventh bound to the French in having receiv'd ayd from them against Richard the third (as wee shall see) forbore not, notwithstanding to worke according to the temperature of his [Page 14] state, doing what in him lay to keepe them from making themselves Masters of Britanny being a place farre of, and disjoyned from his Kingdome, whereas Scotland being neare and Contiguous was fitter for Invasion, yet was he not blamed for this: the first law of States is indemnity and selfe safety. Neither would the French have formerly moved in his behalfe not being any wayes offended nor molested by Richard, had they not hoped by nourishing Civill Warres to bet­ter their affairs, an end which tooke away the Obligation, for Princes can hardly oblige one another, save for their particular intrests; it may bee alleadged that his sworne homage ought to have oblidg'd Iames to have kept his word. In conscience he ought to have done: but yet ought he not so to be upbraided as if he had done what never had beene done before; the French accuse Edward the third for that having done homage to Philip the second, hee awhile after layed pretences to his Crowne, the pretension not arising since but before his doing of homage; if the one bee excused the other ought to bee so likewise, necessity inforced Edward; he ran hazard not doing it to loose what ever he held in that Kingdome, having as then neither forces nor intention to make his pretences, nor is it likely he ever would have had without the favour of the Emperour, Duke of Gel­dres and of his neighbouring Provinces, Flanders, Brabant, Hannault, Iuliers, Leige and Collen, I was willing to alleadge this Example pas­sing by the many others which in like case I could produce, for that I thought the sincerity of my pen did require it: but the rest are not for all this to be excused. There is no State so innocent but for what concernes promise (and by no meanes excusable as this) is besmeared with blemishes blacker then is the blackest Coale, never to be washed off but by the Water of Oblivion: and in that promiscuous general­lity I accuse none, I only accuse and condemne Reason of State, the generall Idoll of all Governments. Buchanan who upbraides the English with having undone whatsoever of good they had formerly done unto Iames, by loding him with so insufferable a Ransome, do's them much injury; for neither does Hector Boetius blame them for it, neither could Iames being a King be tax'd at lesse. David one of his Predecessors paid the same summe to Edward the third and Iohn King of France three Millions of Gold, besides the Provinces which he bound himselfe to restore, so as there was no injury done to Iames being taxed with the like summe as a King of Scotland formerly was, and so farre inferior to a King of France: for what remaines, the Fa­therly and Brotherly piety of Henry the fourth and Henry the fift in giving him such instructions as made him prove the most famous and vertuous King that ever Scotland had, frees them from all calumny, and makes it appeare, that since therin they had none of the common intrests of State spoken of but rather the contrary, it did proceed meerly from the magnanimity of those two valiant and excellent Princes.

Ten thousand Souldiers were come from England to Paris, just at such time as the French had made themselves Masters of two impor­tant places. Compaigne equally distant from Paris and Amiens, and [Page 15] Crotoi a place of consequence on the Sea side upon the Coast of Pi­cardie. The Earle of Suffolke was sent by the Regent to recover Com­paigne accompanied by the Messieurs de Ligni and de Lilliadam with whom he incamped himselfe on both sides the River Oise incom­passing the Walls thereof with Souldiers, Trenches and Artillery to the end that he might the easelier and the sooner winne it: but he was likely to have lost there many men and much time had it not beene for a happy exigent which hee luckily layd hold of Sir Iohn Falstaffe an English Knight, had not many Dayes before taken Gerolumus Raymond surnamed Mariolanus Prisoner, a vali­ant Captaine, who having formerly commanded those Souldi­ers, who were now shut up in Compaigne was by them passionatly loved. Hee made him bee brought from Paris to the Campe, and putting him in a Cart, they presented him to the sight of the besieged with a rope about his Neck, threatning to put him to death if they would not surrender themselves; they had not much adoe to prevaile with them, for those of the Fort thought it bootlesse to trouble them­selves with the maintaining of a Fort which not being succour'd was to be lost; they surrendred the Towne, their Captaines life and liberty preserved; and in their owne behalfes their Lives, Horses, Armes, and Baggage. Iames de Harcourt Charles his Lievetenant Ge­nerall for that Province was he who defended Crotoi, one of his best and most inriched commanders, this Man having lost Noel a Castell belonging to himselfe, surrendred by those who did defend it; and Rues a place not to be defended, being abandoned had put himselfe into this Towne with intention to indure the Siege, which Paul Butler an English Commander layd to it by Sea and Land, by Shipping and Land forces, brought from Normandy; he defended it from Iune till the midst of October: but both of them being weary, not so much in respect of the time they had spent but for what in all appearance was of longer duration, either for the ones atchievement or others suc­cour, capitulation was made for the surrendring of it up upon the third day of March ensuing, alwayes provided if in the three first dayes of that Moneth the Regent nor those that should be by him sent to receive that place, should not bee by him or some other of Charles his forces defeated; the Siege being raysed and all Articles observed the place was surrendred up upon the appointed day, none appearing in the succour therof. Harcourt himselfe being dead, whilst practising wiles upon a strength belonging to Monsier de Partene his Wives Unkle, and coveting the lives of others he lost his owne. The Duke of Glocester was intent in the execution of his Office, when for­tune to crosse the good way he was in, threw upon him Iocheline of Baviers, Countesse of Holland, Zealand and Hannault, Mistris of Frisia and Wife to Iohn Duke of Brabant, who flying from her Husband got into England, a busines which to bee well understood must bee taken from its beginning.

The house of Bavaria was come into the possession of the said Pro­vinces inherited by Margaret Wife to the Emperour Lodovic the eighth of Bavaria by the death of William the fourth his Brother who [Page 16] was Master thereof slaine by the Frysons, leaving them to his Sonne William the fift, who becomming mad and without issue they fell upon his Brother Albertus, to whom did succeed his Sonne William the sixt Father to this Iacoline; who was the last shee of the House of Bavaria commanded in those Countries. Now shee having beene Married to the Dolphin of France and left by him a Widdow, her Father Wil­liam would have her to Marry (a dispensation being to be procured from the Councell of Constance, there being then no Pope) Iohn Duke of Brabant, her Cousin-german for Margaret her Mother was Sister to Anthony Duke of Brabant, Father to Iohn; William dying be­fore this Marriage was concluded, Iohn of Baviers Bishop of Leidge his Brother and Unckle to Iacoline, hoping by the Title of Guardian to worke himselfe into the Government of these States, wrought so with the Emperour Sigismund (though hee formerly assented to the aforesaid Marriage) as that the dispensation should bee denied un­to her: and giving up his Bishoprick (held by him the space of 27. yeares with much Warre and Bloud) into the hands of Mar­tin the fift lately chosen, hee went into Holland, where by assi­stance of such as sided with himselfe, Master of certaine places, threat­ning Warre unto his Neece if shee would not submit unto his Guar­dianship: shee and her husband were advertis'd of her Unckles sinister proceedings in the Councell; and having obtained the dispensation from the new Pope, it was by the Emperours importunity redeman­ded, when alleadged the evills and Warres which were thereupon likely to ensue. Iohn of Baviers had received a Copy of the revo­cation before the Originall came, and had sent it them to stop their proceedings, but it being by them rejected, as not authenticall, not comming from the Pope, they Married themselves, the Husband be­ing 16, the Wife 17 yeares old: this Marriage was shortly after con­firmed by the Pope himselfe, declaring that the revocation being surreptitiously obtained, the dispensation was in its first vigour, so as they might continue without any scruple in the state of Matrimony wherein they were. Iohn of Baviers falling in this designe intreated and obtained a dispensation for himselfe likewise to Marry, not ha­ving in his so many yeares of Episcopacie exceeded the degree of Deacon, he Marryed Elizabeth Dutchesse of Luxenburg Neece to the Emperour Sigismund, from whom he obtained in Feefarme all the territories belonging to Iacoline as falne to the Empire, William being dead without any Heires Male, not remembring that they had descended to the House of Baviers by Female succession; but he was stoutly opposed by those States who objected unto him; that as they did not acknowledge any one but her for their Princesse, so he him­selfe had acknowledged her for his, by doing homage to her for those Lordships which he possessed. That Women were not there exclu­ded succession when the case had so falne out; that for this they had Letters and approbation from former Emperours, nor was this the first; with these protestations they declared themselves his Enemies; and Hannault more then all the rest, since shee had no dependancie upon the Empire; but the Warre which for this cause the Duke of [Page 17] Brabant waged with them ended so favourably for him, that besides having granted him by Tytle of inheritance divers Countries in Hol­land, he was declared Lord Lievetenant for 3 yeares with Soveraigne authority in all the rest, Hannault only excepted. So as having now reduc'd the whole arbitratorship unto himselfe he did so worke upon the said Duke partly by wiles, partly by snares, as that he did not only prorogue unto him his tytle for 7 yeares longer, but by his in­stigation became an Enemie to his Wife, and by taking from her and changing her attendants, did so much incense her that to bee rid of him shee retired her selfe into Hannault accompanied by her Mother, and afterwards her selfe alone into England, where the Duke of Glo­cester incited either by love or out of the hopes of so great States fell upon a resolution of Marrying her. For the which some apparant reason being to bee given, they pretended the dispensation to bee in­vallid, and shee caused the Duke of Brabant by his Proctors to bee cited to Rome, shee demanded that the Marriage might bee declared null; a busines wherewith the World was scandaliz'd, and which above all others troubled Duke Philip, joyned by Father and Mother in the same degree of Consanguinitie to them both; for he and Brabant were Sonnes to two Brothers; he and Iacholina to Brother, and Sister: by which kindred he afterwards became Heire both to the one and the other. But because the Progresse of this busines fell out the next ensuing yeare I will reserve the relation thereof to it's proper place; having enlarged my selfe herein out of a beleefe that others might have the same curiosity that I had; for not finding in the storyes which treat hereof, the Light I did desire to see; what moved Glocester to Marry another Mans Wife, I could find no satisfaction save in the History of Holland.

Iohn Poole Brother to the Earle of Suffolke had the Government of Auranches in Normandy; who thinking he lived but idlely in his gar­rison, gathered together about 2500 Men, taking them from their ap­pointed garrisons to Anjou, wherwith making excursions even to the Towne of Angiers, he burnt the Suburbs thereof, spreading himselfe every where about to the much prejudice of the Countrey, till such time as loaded with prey and Prisoners he intended to returne. But adversity causing warynesse, and prosperity the contrary, as his men were marching out of file and in disorder, and doubting nothing; they were set upon by Iohn de Harcourt Count of Omale and Charles his Lievetenant in the two Provinces of Anjou and Maine accompanied by the Viscount of Narbonne the Baron of Coulouses, Ambrogius de Lora Monsier de Larchet, by Andrew and Guy de Lavall Britons, who together with the comminalty of those Frontiers were gone to joyne with him, making about the number of 6000. Men; with these he gave upon the others who were in disorder, mingled with their Carriages and Prisoners, and (not without some difficulty) defeated them: 300. of them being left dead upon the place, and 600. taken Prisoners, amongst which their Conductors, the rest saving themselves by flight. Hallian and Argentres say that the number of the dead were 1400, a difference of no small consideration, having obtained this victory [Page 18] hee passed on forwards hoping by the good luck hee had therein to take Auranches, wherin he failed; so as firing the Suburbs of St. Loe, he returned to Mayne; but fortune which ballanceth her adventures, that shee may seeme to be just, though indeede shee be not so, did by, contrary events put life into the one party, and mortifie the other: for the Bastard de Baume, and Monsier de Craignar, making the like in­cursions into the Countrey of Macone, were unexpectedly met by Matthew Goches, who having with him a number of English not inferior to them, set upon them, and did so behave himselfe as that the French were almost all slaine: the Bastard of Baume having done all that a brave Souldier, and Commander could, seeing there was no other help, clapt spurrs to his Horse to save himselfe; but Goches, who was upon as fleete a Horse as he, overtooke him at the Castle Gate, where he thought to have entred, and tooke him Prisoner, presenting him to the Earle of Salisbury, who to incourage the rest, did together with the Prisoner give him one of the best Horses he had.

The English possessed all Normandy, except Mount St. Michael, a Fort situated upon the top of a Mountaine, in a little Iland named by the same name, some two leagues distant from the continent, and some three leagues from Auranches, unaccessable, and not to be wonne but by Famine; they had layed siege thereunto, debarring them of being come unto by any, or of going forth themselves, so as it was impos­sible to Victuall it, the Sea being guarded by many Shipps: the Duke of Britanny, who could not brooke the losse thereof for feare least the English forces might advance to his prejudice (not minding the late capitulations at Amiens) resolved to rayse the siege: the chiefe of this enterprise was Monsier de Beufort Admirall of Britanny, the principall authors, William Monfort Cardinall of Britanny and Bishop of St. Malo, Messieurs de Limbour, de Montalban, and de Coutchen; who having armed a good number of Ships in the Haven of St. Malo, filled them with Soul­diers and Bow men, having made all this preparation with such se­crecy, as they were upon the Enemy before he was aware. Terrible was the bickering, navall fights not being subject to escapes or re­treats, and much lesse the English at this time blockt up by the Brit­tish Vessells, and fast tyed by their owne Anchors; they grapled to­gether but came not to handy blowes by reason of the English Shipps fight, so as having a long time labour'd with Weapons, Fire, and Arrowes, the Britons who were well provided of Souldiers had the Victory over the English, who were but meanly stor'd with men, de­signed only for the safeguard of the Shipps, they slew them almost all, together with the Marriners and Pilotts, some few only esca­ping by saile. Argentres sayes that the besiegers seeing their Men lost, and not daring to expect the Enemies landing fled away, abando­ning their Houlds; had it beene so, t'would have beene by the assi­stance of an ebbing Sea, for otherwise being in an Island and without Shipps, they could not have saved themselves. The English Histori­ans make no mention of this, nor many French, those that do, write it thus; that the Admirall of Britanny having sunke some of the English Vessells he gave chase to the rest, and that the besieged joyning with [Page 19] those that came into their succour, assaulted the besiegers, defeated them, and freed themselves from them; but that escaping to Ardenon 3000. paces distant from the Mountaine they there built a Fort, from whence issuing forth they had many skirmishes with the garrison; and that the Baron Colonsus having agreed thereupon, with those of the garrison, came at an appointed time and slew above 200. English, taking S r. Nicholas Burdet Prisoner, a rich and valiant Knight; a Nar­ration much differing from that of Argentres, who relates it some­what obscurely, but yet ends it, the rest giving it no end at all, neither can it bee gather'd from them, if besides the 200. that were slaine, or 240. according to Giles, any others remain'd: besides they name not any one head in this expedition; which they forget not to doe in businesses of lesse consequence.

This meane while Victories and losses were had by both sides, but not equally, worthy notice, and therefore rather to be pointed at then described. Iohn of Luxenburg besieged Guisse a place belong­ing to Renato D' Anjou Duke de Bar, and Brother to the King of Sicily; who forbore to succour it being so advised by the Duke of Lorraine his Wives Father; for they should both of them have put their States in too great danger, if they should have declar'd open Warre with two such potent Enemies as were England and Burgony; so as they thought it the lesser evill to suffer it be lost, then to hazard the rest; the defendants did what they could to defend it under the command of Iohn de Proisi their Captaine, but not being succour'd they surren­dred the Towne: it fell otherwise to Sadone in the County of Vertu, which being besieged, threatned and taken by force by the Earle of Salisbury, met with the last of ruines, being sackt and the Souldiers al­most all slaine: but such were the Burgonians Insolencies under Iohn de Luxemburg, and so insufferable even to such as sided with the Duke, as they resolv'd to make an Assembly at Roie where having consider'd their condition, and expostulated their injuries they resolv'd to change sides: but all would not doe so, not that they did not desire it, but for the danger they were likely to incounter: those who declared them­selves for Charles were Mussieurs de Longeville, de St. Simone, de Maillis de Reicourt and others; some of which falling afterwards into the Ene­mies hands were severely put to death: being this meane while all banished, they furnish'd their owne Habitations and Governments with good garrisons, entring into mortall Warre with the English and Burgonians: to such as accused them of breach of faith, they answer'd, that it made more for them to have an open declar'd Warre, then to indure the insolencies of such, as under title of friendship and defence did every where commit injuries, roberies, and contumacies. A good example to Princes not to suffer the Dogs which are to defend their Houses, turne Wolves amongst their Flocks. But the incorrigible­nesse of Military men proceeds not alwayes from them; it is impos­sible that Souldiers be well disciplin'd in long and Civill Warres, especially if their Commanders bee avaritious; such inconveniences have been and will bee, no remedy being to bee had for it. For where Warres grow inveterate, and where hatred together with damage [Page 20] doth increase, humanity growes there corrupted or is totally lost; Hee not being allowed of for a good Souldier who is not brutish. Piety, conscience, and other Christian affections are lull'd asleepe by extortion, violence and the habite of being imbrued in bloud.

Charles had sent Reynauld de Schartres Archbishop of Rheims his Chancellor in company of the Earle Douglasse into Scotland to raise there 5000. men, with the which being return'd into France, hee brought along with him the Earle Boughan his Sonne in law, and Iohn Stuart constable of Scotland, to all which Charles gave divers possessions the better to incourage them to serve him. To Doug­lasse and his Heires-male, hee gave the Dutchy of Touraine in fe [...] farme: though others write, hee did but pawne it unto him; Hee Earle Bowhan Lo. constable but neither of them injoy'd these honours long, to Stuart he gave the Lordship of Aubenny which is by his posterity possest to this day, and to captivate their good wils, and make the Scottish-men partiall in his behalfe, hee tooke a 100. of them for the guard of his person, an institution to this day maintained by the Kings his successours. Hee had likewise a little before this receaved an ayd of 1000. foote and 600. lances from Philip Maria Duke of Millan; these forces being added to his owne, hee made up the body of an Army consisting of 18000. men, (not counting those who were dispersed abroad in other Provinces;) Hee made use of these men as of a marching Machin, conducted by gallant and experienced Commanders; neither was hee long in setting them on worke, though with ill successe.

The Count Richmond had at this time forsaken the confederacy 1424. made at Amiens, by reason of some distast hee tooke at the Duke of Bedford; but what the busines was I find no where specified save by Serres, who taxing the Duke of too much haughtines, sayeth that the Count being gone unto him to receave some charge worthy of him and his affinity; Hee found him so hard and intractable, as that being accustomed to the affability of the King of France, hee tooke distast thereat, and returned backe with a resolution of trying all meanes hee could to put himselfe into Charles his good opinion, and to indeavour that the Duke his Brother should doe the like. The garrison of Iury (a place belonging by inheritance to Ambrose de Lore, and which being taken by Henry the fifth was given in gift to this Count Richmond with all the emoluments thereof) under­standing his revolt, declared themselves for France. Bedford layd siedge unto this towne, the which defended it selfe till such time as a myne being ready to play they yeelded, the Castle remaining yet untaken, which after some dayes siedge agreed likewise to surrender it selfe, if it were not succoured on the day of the assumption of the virgin Mary. Hostages were given hereupon, and the Captaine was permitted to advertise the King thereof; this place was of great con­sequence to Charles, which had it not beene, his reputation would have inforced him to succour it, for it was a kind of defiance to bee advertis'd thereof by the consent of the enemy. Resolving then [Page 21] upon it, hee charged the Duke of Alansonne to succour it, yea though hee should hazard the battaile: Alansonne obeyed, marching towards it with the aforenamed Army; being come neare to the Towne, hee sent 40. Horsemen to survay the Campe; but such were the relations hee heard, as hee thought it the lesser evill to loose Iury, then to hazard a battaile. A resolution which displeased the rest; hee notwithstanding tooke on his way towards Vernuille, presenting himselfe before it in so brave and stately manner, that it not being to bee doubted, but that hee came from Iury; whether it was knowne hee was gone to raise the siedge, hee easily made the inhabitants beleeve, that he had defeated the Duke of Bedford, slaine his men; the Duke himselfe with some few being escaped on horsebacke. A tale which bearing with it a seeming likelyhood; was easily credited; the place yeelded it selfe up unto him; and t'was a purchase which properly belonged unto him, for hee had not long before obtained it from Charles. The Castle of Iury this meane while not succoured, Gerard de Palliere as hee presented the keyes unto the Duke, shewed him a letter signed and sealed by 18. Lords, wherein they promised him to come upon the precise day, with a resolution to fight and raise the siedge: afterwards hee added, that since they by falsifying their promise had given him so great a wound, hee found no other salve whereby to heale it, but by making their breach of promise knowne. To which the Duke replied, that since they would not daigne to come to him, hee would goe to them, with a resolution to end all disputes by Armes. Hee commanded the Earle of Suffolke to follow him, who taking with him 600. horse, went to Bertrille where hearing of the losse of Vernuille, hee by poste advertised the Duke thereof; who marching forth-with thereupon sent word to Douglasse that hee intended to dine with him the next day, that there­fore hee desir'd him to expect him, and see that dinner were ready. Douglasse answer'd, that being come from Scotland of purpose to visit him; hee would not faile in preparing for him the banquet hee de­sir'd; but neither was Douglasse nor any of the other Captains minded to give battaile, for Iury being lost, the thing for which they fought, they should not doe well to hazard preposterously, and without necessity against a victorious enemy: those forces which were Charles his onely stay and support, and that doing otherwise they should at least make good the place of advantage wherein they were; having Vernuille upon their backe, their souldiers likely to grow fresh with rest, and weary if they should travell; But the Vis­count of Narbonne shewing what shame they were to undergoe, if they should not abate the edge of Bedfords bravado's, caused his troops take armes in a tumultuous manner (compos'd of Provincials gascons and men of Tholouse, all good souldiers) saying, that if the wisest would not follow him, hee could doe no lesse then goe alone to defend with the hazard of his life the honour of France, so as mov'd thereunto by shame they all confusedly followed him, and were by the event too late taught, that resolutions contrary to reason have beene seldome seene prosperous they made one onely Battalion [Page 22] of their men, placing 1000. horsmen upon each side of their flankes and 400. of those that came from Millan in front to annoy the ene­mies ordnance, to the end that they being opened the grosse battell might the easier enter. The Duke of Bedford was not displeas'd with this order, for finding himselfe to bee inferiour to them in number, it behooved him to make one onely squadron of all his men; Hee placed bowmen on their flancks and front, secured by cer­taine sharpned poles, which fastned in the earth with their points outward, served for pikes against the shocke of the horse; Hee made no use of horse, but causing them to bee fastned together by the raynes and tailes, hee made them stay in the Arrere of the battell with the Pages, Servants, Carriages, and Baggadge guarded by 2000. bowmen; the fray endured 3. houres without any diversity of for­tune; the 400. horse which could not open the English troops (though they did a little trouble them at their first assault) past for­ward toward the carriages thinking to find lesse obstacle there, whilst the rest of the horse, infesting the enemies flankes, wrought so much, as having put them in some little dis-order, they cryed out victory, whilest they had no share at all therein; for the second files houlding close together firmed the former, and the bowmen by their shooting did suppresse the hopes of their supposed advantage, so as the English having withstood their first brunt, and passing from defence to offence, charged hot upon them, whilest the horse galled by the bowmen were the first that fled, the 400. that were gone against the carriages being galled by a thicke showre of arrowes, were constrained to betake them to their heeles: pursued by the Archers, who fresh and free from the custody of the horse joyned themselves with the rest, letting fly at the enemies Batta­lion, who weary, wounded, and in dis-order remained; the greatest number of them slaine upon the field, and those who fled towards the Towne (the gates whereof were shut least the enemy might enter in with the rest) found in the ditches thereof death and sepul­ture; those who betooke themselves to the open fields did better; it was well for them the enemy had no horse; and that they were busied in the taking of Prisoners. Amongst the rest, the Duke of Bedford himselfe fought bravely and manfully. This battle hapned in the month of August 1424. the day being uncertaine, it being diversly said to have beene on the 8. 16. 17. and 28. but I beleeve it hapned on the 17. since it is by most part so affirmed, and because the night after Iury was rendred, the 16. the Duke went from thence and came on the 17. to Vernuille, the way being not above 5. leagues. I was willing to note this variety not for that the busines doth de­serve it, but since wee are to meete with others in more substantiall affaires, particularly in the calculation of yeares, no man may wonder if sometimes to follow one, I dissent from the rest, according to the English Writers witnesse, by the testimony of the Heraulds of both Nations there was slaine of French and Scots 9700. and 2100 of their men. Monstrelet names but 1600. English, and betweene 4. and 5000. of the others, the greatest part whereof were Scots; [Page 23] Paulus Emilius 5000. Giles and Belleforest 4000. Alleyn, Chartier, Chesnes and Dupleix 4500. Argentres is hee alone, who differing from the rest affirmes them to have beene 7000. Dupleix sayeth, that as the English make their owne losse to bee lesse then it was; so they make their enemies losse to bee greater, wherein hee is decea­ved; for since they confesse it to bee 2100. they make it to bee 500. more then hee or the others; it is true that Polidore Virgill numbring the lost French to bee about 5000. adds, that the common report was that the number of dead and Prisoners amounted to 15000. but this hee doth not affirme for truth, so as in such diversity it will not bee hard for us to guesse at the truth from the totall number of both their Armies. For since the French write, that their Army consisted of 18000. and the English but of 98000. it followes, that if the number of the dead on their side did not exceed 4. or 5000. and of the English 2100. there should yet remaine of their men alive betweene 13. and 14000. and of the adversary 7700. so as after the battell their number was the greater by 5. or 6000. but let us take those 6000. and let us give them to Salisbury to content Serres, and let us suppose, that the English Army was 15800. all this granted wee shall find, that if the number of their dead were 4000. the number of those who remained was yet greater by 300. if 4500. lesse by 200. and if 5000. lesse by 700. a difference in like case of small moment, besides it is not to bee beleev'd, that so valiant a Nation would have quitted the field, unlesse they had lost so many as without blame might have made them inferiour to their enemy; and their Writers thinking thereby to sustaine their reputation withdraw from it, since it makes more for them to have beene overcome fighting and dying upon the place, then to have yeelded the field and fled away whilest they were as many in number if not more, and if reply bee made that from these the 3000. should bee withdrawne, who were left under Ram­burres to make good Vernuille, those must likewise bee substracted from the English who were lest to guard Iury, and the Castle, places lately recovered from the enemy, and which in reason were not to bee kept without a good garrison; Moreover the battell was begunne with 2000. Archers lesse, without the which the fight was a long time maintained; neither were they to have quitted the guard of the baggage and horse which was their charge had it not bin to have assisted their Companions; an act onely to bee expected from experienced Souldiers, who well verst in their occupation, and fit to command knew, how to serve unanimously and to purpose uncommanded. Wee must then beleve the number of the dead spe­cified by the English to bee 9700. to be the true number; the cheife, whereof were the counts of Omale, Tonnare, Ventadoure, and the Vis­count of Narbon; together with a great number of the nobility, whose catalogue is diversly set downe by Monstrelette and Belleforest of Pri­soners; the Duke D'Alansonne, the Bastard of Alansonne, the Marishall Fajette, Gaucourt, Puis and many others of name: together with 200. Gentlemen and some Souldiers; the body of the Viscount of Narbonne being found amongst the dead, was cut in quar­ters, [Page 24] and the quarters hung up upon Gallowses; for they used him being dead as they would have done, had hee beene alive, for that hee was one of those who murdered Iohn Duke of Burgony; The chiefe of the Scotts that dyed, were Archibald, Earle Douglasse, who together with his life lost, the Dutchy of Furaine, for his Sonne, the Earle of Wintonne, dyed with him; and the Earle Bowhan Constable of France, who (as some write) injoy'd, not that charge above 100. houres, together with these there dyed 9. Knights 2700. Gentlemen of quality. The Duke of Bedford was this day abandonned by many Norman Cavaliers just as the Battels joyn'd, who fled over to the contrary party, to whom they adjudged the victory by rea­son of the inequality of the numbers; some of which falling afterwards into his hands suffered condigne punishment; and the rest lost what of command they held under him. But S. Railes diligence did much comfort Charles his misfortune; for had hee not taken care to assemble together such as were esca­ped, hee had beene wholly destitute of Souldiers. Steven de Vignolus called la Hire did the like, for considering in what condition his King was without Souldiers, Commanders, and Princes of the bloud (all of them, being all most Prisoners to the English) Hee quitted Vitres and other places in Cham­pagnia to joyne his troopes with the others. Charles had not any time before beene in a worse condition, Monsieur de Rom­barres deputed to the custody of Vernuille with 3000. men (as hath beene said) yeelded it up two dayes after comming all of them out of the Towne, their Lives, Armes, Baggadge, and Horses saved. Hee likewise was of some comfort to the common apparent ruine. The Duke of Bedford who after so happy successe had withdrawne himselfe to Roan, and from thence to Paris sent the Lord Scales with 2000. men, accompanied by Sr. Iohn Montgomery, and Sr. Iohn Falstaffe to annoy Aniou and Mayne where though a number of Castles yeelded un­to them; yet this seeming but a small affaire (the neighbourhood of these two Provinces being dangerous for the safety of Nor­mandy, and requiring greater effects) the Earle of Salisbury with 10000. fighting men went to besiedge Mans; the Metropoli­tane of Maine, battering it in such a sort, as throwing to the ground, the Houses, Walls, and Toures thereof: Hee wonne it to his obedience, and giving the command thereof to the Earle of Suffolke, and the Lieutenancy to Falstaffe hee passed forward to S. Susanna defended by Ambrogius de Lore, assaying it on that side, which hee thought fittest for assault, but having got no good thereby, (the Walls being manifully de­fended) Hee bethought himselfe, how to have it with­out so much bloud. Hee played upon it with his Ordnance two whole dayes together, so as having layd flat its, de­fences and reduc'd it to such a point as that it was not able to endure any other assault, they were inforced to sur­render, [Page 25] paying some certaine monies, and the Garrison comming forth onely in their Doublets, their lives saved. From hence he went too before Forte Barnardo where being advertis'd by the Gascons of Alansons Garrison, how they had made agreement with Iohn de Vil­liers to sell unto him that place for 400. Crownes, hee sent thither the Lord Willoughby and Falstaffe with 2000. Souldiers who surprised the purchaser, whilst he thought to have made his entry with 200. Horse and 400. Foote, which hee had brought to guard the place, they slew him, none of the rest escaping, save 25. thankes to their Horses heeles. The place which hee besieged being then yeelded up unto him, together with a many more hee frighted France, which thought fortune too partially favourable unto him.

At this time Edmund Mortimer Earle of March, formerly deprived of his liberty died at Trimmes in Ireland; whereupon his just and lawfull pretences fell upon Richard Plantaginet, sonne to that Richard Earle of Cambridge, who by the commandement of Henry the fift, was beheaded at Antona, wee shall shortly heare newes of his claime; unfortunate to him the King and kingdom, for though he turned Eng­land topsey turvy, he did not notwithstanding compasse the govern­ment thereof; the which was reserved with better fortune for his sonne. This his death was accompanied by the death of Iohn Morti­mer his Cousin, who accused of treason to the scandall of all men suffered the punishment of the Law, his faults being beleeved to bee calumnies, and himselfe brought to so ignominious an end for that alone, which by vulgar Politicians is called Reason of State.

The same resolution which (as wee have said) made the Duke of Glocester marry Iacoline of Baviers contrary to the Law, made him likewise resolve to take up Armes against him, who of all others was most requisite for the friendship of England; neither could hee after the first errour forbeare committing of others, for he was inforced to recover for her, her possions injoy'd by the Duke of Brabant her legi­timate husband; the which hee now (pretending himselfe to be the like) must account his. Neither thought he that he should neede any great forces, since Hannault which was to be the seat of the warre was thought to favour him, for the people of the Country had alwayes sided with their true and naturall Princes, so as both of them imbark­ing themselves at Dover with 5000. fighting men conducted by the Earle Marshall, they went to Calis. Duke Philip according to appoint­ment formerly made with the Duke of Bedford was come for this cause to Paris, and after having friendly disputed it amongst them­selves they framed an agreement to be accepted of by both parties, the Duke of Brabant did not refuse to accept thereof, but Iacolina and Glo­cester did, who said they might goe to take possession of what was their owne, without the interposition of others. A resolution which did inwardly wound the brother, who foresaw the evills that were to ensue thereupon, and did touch Philip to the quicke, being interessed in these states and Princes by neighbourhood and pretensions; besides he thought Glocester did too little value him, whilst the English ought rather to set an esteeme on him then on any other. Neither did hee [Page 26] forbeare to say to Bedford that since his brother would not condescend to the agreement made between them two, he was not to be blamed if he should imploy all the forces he had in the behalfe of Brabant against Glocester, to the which Bedford knew not what to reply, no reason being to be given for his actions, who not respecting friendship, equity, nor publik interest is resolv'd to pursue his owne Caprichies. Glocester pas­sed through Artois into Hannault, where he and his wise Iacolina were received with all expressions of obedience, all the Lords and Gentry of the Country comming into their service, except the Counts Con­versan, Angebert and Anguiere, and Iohn de Iumont, who were the onely men that with their Townes and Fortresses observed the oath they had formerly taken to the Duke of Brabant who growing more powerfull by reason of the concourse of men from Artois and Flan­ders, (for Philip had made it be proclaimed that such as were obliged to weare Armes should goe to his service) he began the warre to the great incommoditie of the Country, the which growing cooler to­wards their Princes would have shewed some effects, had not not their places of chiefest importance beene in the power of the English. Glo­cester did not beleeve that Philip would have opposed him, but hearing of the Proclamations, and seeing the effects, hee made his grievance knowne unto him by letters, which though in some sort modest, yet were they not void of injury, for he had let fall from his pen, that in his Proclamations there were many untruthes; whereupon Philip replyed that hee had taken upon him the defence of his Cousin the Duke of Brabant, as by reason hee was obliged; by accep­ting the Articles of that agreement which Glocester refused to doe; whilst both law and conscience required that the deciding of the question should bee expected from Rome where the cause did yet depend, but that passing by these particulars as not belonging to him, hee would answer onely to that which reflected upon his honour. That therefore hee would have him know, that in his Proclamations, hee had given out nothing of untruth, and consequently willed him to recant his assertion, which if hee would not doe, hee challenged him to single combate, either before the Emperour or the Duke of Bedford, who being his Brother was not to bee refused for a Iudge. Gloster accepted the challenge appointing S t. Georges day for the time, and the place to bee before the Duke of Bedford, if hee would bee the Iudge, otherwise before the Emperour. Those of Brabant this meane while who with their Auxiliaries made up a body of 40000. men, besiedged Brame in Hannault, wherein was a Garrison of 200. English; after 8. dayes houlding out, necessity drew them to capitulate; they were suffered to come forth with part of their Baggadge, and the City was fined to pay a certaine somme of mony in ransome of their lives and goods; but whilst the English were ready to come forth, the common People entred tumultuously in at Sundry places, putting most of them to the sword, and together with them some of the Citizens; and not satisfied with bloud, they sacked the City, and set it on fire, reducing it into ashes. The com­mands and intreaties of their leaders were of no availe, who had [Page 27] much adoe to save the few English that were left; and because the tenet of the challenge was, that there should bee a suspension of Armes to shun the effusion of so much bloud (the quarrell being to bee ended by the two Princes) no other hostility ensued at that time, save that Gloster being come to Braine thinking to have come time enough to have succourd it; there was much appearance of comming to blowes; for those of Brabant apprehending this arri­vall put themselves in battell Aray, and a battell had certainely ensued, had not the greatest number, of the common sort runne away; leaving their weapons in the highwayes; so as the Count Sr. Paul and other commanders were much perplext, being exposed to the mercy of the enemie; but the Duke finding that Braine was taken and burnt, so as there was no remedy, and not knowing any thing of the other dis-orders thought no further on it, they all retired; they to Bruxzels and hee to Mons, from whence hee went to England, to pro­vide all things requisite for the Duell. Hee much against his will left behind him; his pretended Wife, wonne by the intreaties of her Mother and Subjects, all of them swearing (the City of Mons in particular wherein shee remained) to defend her against whosoever should annoy her, the which they did not make good: for hee had no sooner turn'd his backe, but Hannault being set upon, Mons yeelded to Brabant, and the Princesse was delivered over into the hands of Philip, by whom being sent to Gaunt with appearing respect, but in effect a Prisoner; shee bethought herselfe how to makean escape by the secreet assistance of her Subjects, cloathed in mans apparell shee got to Zealand, and having receaved 5000. men from the Duke of Gloster, shee entred Holland, where being fought withall and beaten, shee lost 3000. this meane while the busines being decided in Rome, and the first marriage declar'd legitimate, the other voyd; Gloster did wholly abandon her, so as finding herselfe single against so powerfull enemies, shee was enforced to give way to fortune, and to yeeld Hannault to her Husband (from whom shee was for ever separated) together with Holland and the rest, under the Tittle of Governe­ment: shee oblig'd herselfe to Burgony not to marry againe without his consent as long as Brabant lived; but being herein as in all other things inconstant, and having secreetly marryed the Lieutenant of Zealand (a marriage misbecoming her quality) shee so highly offended Philip, as having detained her Husband, to free him, shee was enforced to new conditions, and about the 36. yeare of her age, being deprived of her possessions dyed for meere greefe, this was her end. Her marriage with Gloster was unluckly to them both, shee there­by lost all shee had; and hee was thereby the cause, not so much of the losse of France to the English, as of the increase of the Duke of Burgundyes power in the Low-countries; Philip after his Fathers death, came to the Government of Burgundy, Artois, and Flandres; few yeares after by the death of two Brothers Iohn and Philip, hee came to the Dukedomes of Brabant and Limburgh; by the death of Iacho­lina to the Earledomes of Haunault, Holland, and Zealand, and to the Seigniory of Frisland: Hee by Armes wonne the Dukedome of [Page 28] Luxenburg from those who descended from the Emperour Sigismund, and purchas'd the Dukedome of Namures, so as if hee had continued in his enmity to Charles, and friendship with Henry, hee was likely to have beene the destruction of the one, and the establishment of the other. But humaine affections the more subject they are to passion, the more prone are they to change, they made him friend unto his enemy, and a bitter enemy unto his friend. Naturall hatred prevailing more then casuall; especially when beleeving our selves to bee the benefactors and obligers: Wee doe not thinke our selves to bee sufficiently recompenced according to our owne de­serts.

The Duell betweene the two Princes was this meane while by the Duke of Bedford and his councell annulled, whilest the Duke of Gloster having receav'd advice of the invalidity of his marriage, married Elianor daughter to the Lord Cobham, a Lady formerly loved and knowne by him, this match caus'd more scandall then did his former, and proved much more infortunate to him.

The defeat of Vernuille with the losse of so many Lords and 1425. chiefe Commanders, as it had much indangerd Charles, so were the difficulties of making new provisals wonderfully great. His ruine was certaine and sudden, the remedies thereof subject to the length of time, the losse of the constable did most of all incommodiate him; a new one was of necessity to bee chosen, but as there were many, that did pretend thereunto; so was there none that was fit for the imployment. The present occasion required not onely an expert warrier, but such a one as should bee of power and should have fol­lowers out of France, conditions which were not found in any of his subjects: and for this reason was the late Earle Bowhan chosen, as hee who if need should require, was not likely to faile in new forces from Scotland. After long consultation, hee pitcht upon Count de Richmonde, the causes moving him thereunto were, that hee had beene brought up in the Wars from his Child-hood, and upon all occa­sions shewed himselfe to bee valiant, so as hee was rightly ranked in the number of the chiefe warriers of that age, that at all times hee had shewed himselfe to leyne more toward the French then the En­glish; that the Nobility of France were not likely to deny him obe­dience being so great a Prince, that together with the Nobility of France, hee would bee followed by that of Britany; that, if hee could not so farre prevaile with the Duke his Brother, as to make him de­clare himselfe for the French, hee might at least divert him from the English, and free France of the jealousies, they had of him, that the like was to bee hoped from Philip Duke of Burgundy; for being no lesse his friend then Parent, there was none more fitter then hee to sowe the seeds of that reconciliation, from which was to bee expe­cted the expulsion of the English, the peace of France and his owne establishment: but as hee did wisely resolve upon, so did hee incon­siderately begin this busines, for this not being to bee treated of without the Dukes consent; Hee sent unto him Monsieur D'Omale, and together with him Iohn Louvet President of Provence, who was [Page 29] by him hated to death, as being one of those that had advised his im­prisonment; so as having given him a coole audience, he roundly an­swered, that if his brother would he might accept the offer, but not by his consent; and likely he was to have treated him ill favourdly, had it not beene in respect to him that sent him; the which being by Charles conceived, he intreated the Queene of Scicily to goe her selfe in person to him, giving her for an Assistant Tannigues d' Chausteau; who being better received, then were the former Ambassadors, the businesse was referred to the Councell. The Duke had no reason to trust the King, knowing that his delay would make him equally enemy to the English and to Philip, which could not but oppugne his interests. For though hee had broken the confederacy at Amyens, that he might accord with him, yet was he not at enmity with them nor linck't to him, save onely that hee might remaine a Neuterall: the troubles caused unto him by Charles, and Charles his father in times past kept him in perpetuall suspition, neither did he looke for any bet­ter were Charles in prosperous condition, for the Kings of France have alwayes sought how to molest the Dukes of Britanny in their prero­gative and soveraigntie, chusing them for brethren in their miseries, that they might partake with them therein, and never owning them in their prosperitie, unlesse it were to insnare them; never reasona­ble nor just, but in adversitie and neede, besides he had not forgot, that at the taking of Chantonceaux he had met with some of his letters (though he denied them) wherein hee assured the two brothers of Pointevers of his protection, when under pretence of feasting him, they invited him to their house; and afterwards kept him many moneths prisoner in Irons, so as such a friendship could not bee esteemed ad­vantageous.

In effect it had made for him that France had beene perpetually agi­tated, for being respected by both sides (each of them needing his friendship) he remained safe and free, whilst wanting leasure to worke his ruine, they ruinated one another, but that which most of all per­plext him, was the new affinitie betweene his brother and Philip, which did not permit him to resolve on any thing that might dis­please him. 'Twas notwithstanding concluded that the Count should goe himselfe to treat thereof, upon condition that his returne might be secured by equivolent Hostages, and that Philip should bee therewithall contented; to whom Ambassadors were forth with sent, who brought backe his consent upon certaine conditions. And Charles having put into the Counts custody (besides the foure townes, Lusignan, Chinon, Loches and Meung) William Albret and the bastard of Orleans to be Hostages in Britany, went to Angiers; where the Count accompanied by many of the Nobilitie met him, for what belonged unto the charge offer'd unto him, he at the first did with much mode­desty excuse himselfe, alleadging his unexperience in the affaires of France; afterwards he seemed willing to accept thereof, if his bro­ther and the Dukes of Burgundy and Savoy were contented. Anedens the eighth (the first that bore this title) was Duke of Savoy. His in­terests with the Duke of Burgony were the friendship contracted be­tweene [Page 30] them by reason of their antient jealousie of the greatnesse of France after that Dolpheny was united to France and their neare affini­tie. Amedens his wife, who was daughter to Philip the faire, being Aunt to Iohn father to the present Philip surnamed the good, the Count having with this resolution taken his leave returned to Britany, and having surrendred up the Townes and Hostages went with his brothers approbation to speake with the aforesaid Dukes, from whom he obtained their desired assent. At Chinon hee received the sword from Charles according as the custome is, upon condition that the Bishop of Cleremont, the President of Province, the Bastard of Or­leans, his sonne in law William d' Avogour and some others who had a hand in the Duke of Britanies imprisonment should bee banished the Court. Tannignes de Chasteau whom Philip beleeved to have given the deaths wound to his father, was of the number of the banished. Charles was hardly brought to this, for hee valued this faithfull and valiant gentleman as his Father, and although hee promised all this, yet would he not have observed it, neither in those nor this, had not necessity inforced him. For having given order to the new Consta­ble to raise forces in Britany, and having sent to Savoy to the same ef­fect, he was absolutely denyed by those Princes for that hee had not observed what hee had promised. Whereupon Tannignes more re­specting his masters necessitie then himselfe, advised him not to love the favour of such Princes, and service of great men by keeping with him contrary to his promise people of so small consideration as were he and the rest. And though the aforesaid Princes beleeved amisse, (at least for what concerned himselfe for 'twas not hee that slew the Duke of Burgundy) yet the mischiefe would fall upon him, that as times should alter; Hee might recall them, whilest for the present, hee was to preserve the good will of his Parents, and of such whose service might bee usefull to him. Hee onely desir'd him, that being growne old in his service, hee would take such order, as that hee might not perish for want of food, wherein Charles did not onely satisfie him, but suffering him much against his will to depart: Hee assured him, that as long as hee lived, hee would account him as his Father. Hee gave unto him Beauciere for his place of abode, together with the Government and emolument thereof; 15. Archers well payd for his Guard, pensions well assign'd, and confirm'd unto him the office of Provost of Paris, the which though in the enemies hands was of reputation and profit unto him. The President of Provence did not willingly withdraw himselfe as did Tannignes, but much against his will into Province leaving two Daughters very well matched the one to Monsieur de Ioyense, the other to the Bastard of Orleans, who went along with him, and afterwards forsaking him re­turn'd to Court; and though hee had formerly bin hated by the Con­stable, was afterwards favoured by him, by reason of his Valour, who shall consider what wee have related in this present affaire will thinke it farre from likelyhood of truth, for Charles intending to ad­vantage his party against Philip by making Richmond Constable who would not accept of it without Philips consent; Philip did ill [Page 31] in consenting thereunto, and worse in agreeing, that Savoy and Bri­tany should furnish him with souldiers, receiving no other satisfaction for it, but Tannignes banishment from Court; but one of 3. things in my opinion caused him to doe it; either that being distasted by the English, hee was not well pleased with their advancements; or that having his thoughts bent upon Iacholina's territories (where it beho­ved him to attend) and Charles being in bad case by reason of his losse at Vernuille; Hee resolved to give him a breathing time, to the end hee might not be made a pray by the English and hee have no share therein, or else that he did it to leade the way to that reconciliation which ensued shortly after, and that the Constable had already be­gunne to treat with him, which is the most likely, but if it were none of these wee must say that the actions of Princes are like the workes of nature which are seene but not knowne.

The first advantage Charles reaped hereby was the alienating the Duke of Britany from England. To this end he sent unto him Mussieurs 1426. de Treves and de Lusa, intreating him that since hee had banished those whom he had reputed his enemies. Hee would as a Parent and kins­man assist him with men against the English, who advanced every day more and more to the ruine of the Kingdome. This Embassie be­ing consulted upon and oppugned, he resolv'd against the opinion of the major party to succour him; beleeving that the mischiefe hee had suffered was occasion'd rather by those Councellors which govern'd him, then by Charles, so as desirous to speake with him mouth to mouth, before any resolution should be taken, they met at Lanmeurs, where they tarried some dayes, and departed the one and the other infinitely satisfied. The Duke at his returne raysed a good body of Souldiers and gave them to his brother, who joyned with the French Troopes; whilst the Earle of Warwicke besieged Pontersoune and infor­ced it, if not succour'd by such a day (which it was not) to surren­der. He placed there a Garrison, which not ceasing to make inrodes into Britanny caused the Constable to march thither. He besieged it, forced it, slew all the English and demolish'd it, from thence he came to S. Iaques de Beveron, a place of no great circuite, a little before for­tified by the English; but fortune did not smile upon him here, as it did in the former exploit, for the besieged not onely defending them­selves against the besiegers violence, but offending them by perpetu­all sallies, and skirmishes did abate their first furies: to which may be added the Souldiers want of pay, which should have beene admi­nistred by Mounsieur de Iae, who injoyed what of favour and authority the President of Provence held under Charles, so as the Constables pro­testations of not being able without pay to hold the Souldiers toge­ther, either being not listned unto, or not regarded; he resolved to try his fortune by a generall assault before the Army should disbaind; which according to the French calculation consisted of 20000. accor­ding to the English of 40000. and because he knew that the Earle of Suffolke and Lord Scales were in a neighbouring towne, he sent 2000. men, to the end that they might be impeached if they came to succour the towne; but these men having gone a good way, not discrying [Page 32] any enemy as indeed there was none (for Suffolke had had no notice of this the Constables last resolution) they returned backe with fly­ing colours, and in Battle array, when these who were scaling the Walls beleeving them to be enemies, tumbled downe from the Lad­ders, following those who at the foote of the Wall, out of the same beleefe threw away their Armes and fled to save themselves. The defendants who were of the same beleefe sallyed forth at two seve­rall places towards the River side, and charging them home forced them to throw themselves into the water, where according to the French Authors, betweene 6. and 700. men were slaine; but accor­ding to the English, what by water, what by sword above 4000. for­saking their Tents, Artillery and all manner of provisions; and the Constable being abandoned by the French, who in great disorder and without leave taking, returned to their owne homes, retired to Britanny, more worthy to be comiserated then blamed.

The English Court, the towne of London, and the whole kingdome was at this time full of troubles by reason of the contention sprung betweene the Duke of Glocester and his Unckle the Bishop of Winche­ster. Alterations not to be wondred at, for as thunder proceeds raine, and the conjunction of two dismall Planets the malignity of their influence, so were not Henries misfortunes to fall out without the pre­cedency of many disorders, which though (severally consider'd) were of no great moment, yet being joyned were such as caused his ruine: the distemperatures of a state being like to those of humaine bodies which if languishing are almost alwayes mortall the natures of these two contenders were hard to be reconcil'd, the one would be obeyed the other could not brooke command: the Bishop pretended that since the Gouernment of the King appertained to him, the Duke had no reason to insinuate himselfe thereunto, though he were nearer of blood and of greater authority, but whether this or ought else were the cause of their hatred, 'tis most certaine the Bishops pride and ambition was most hatefull. His mighty masse of riches procured him not onely hatred but envy likewise; an evill which as it caused one part of the Nobility to wish him well, so wrought it a contrary effect in the rest, which drawne either by the condition of his birth, as of blood royall; by the reverence of his calling as of Bishop, by the spendor of his attendants, as being served by none but selected men, and by the fulnesse of his tables which exceeded all others) did ad­here unto him, so as the Citie being thus divided, the chiefe Magi­strate who had the care thereof, was constrained to keepe a great guard therein day and night, the shops were all shut up, hourely fea­ring least some contention arising amongst the partakers, they should fall to pillage, which was the onely end of the poorest sort of people, which were the aptest to doe mischiefe. The Bishop failed not to ju­stifie his cause to the Duke of Bedford, writing vnto him, that if hee did not immediatly come to England his brother would bee the cause of much mischiefe which he prayed God to withstand; he intreated him to make haste, for that the affaire in France could not prosper if those of England did amisse, this newes made a great impression in the [Page 33] Duke, so as deputing the Earle of Warwicke, who was but a little before come thither with 6000. men; His Lieutenant in the Regency of France, hee went together with his Wife to England; and came to Lancaster where the Parliament was at that time called. The first action hee did was to blame such Lords as had sided in this difference (not naming his Brother or Uncle to whom his discourse tended,) who drawne by their venome had stir'd up the People to the danger of the King and Kingdome, and utter subversion of the affaires in France, hee exhorted them to lay aside their passions, and take to them more moderate and civill thoughts. Gloster did not forbeare for all this to present in full Parliament, his complaints against the Bishop. First, that Richard Woodville Lieutenant of the Tower had by the Bishops instigation denyed him entrance. Secondly, that hee was resolv'd to lay hands upon the King, and carry him from Eltham to Windsor without the Kings consent, or consent of the Councell. Thirdly, that when as hee had resolv'd to hinder him herein; Hee had caused the Bridge to bee shut up upon him, caused the chaines to bee drawne, and placed men armed with bowes, ar­rowes, and all other manner of weapons in the chambers, windowes, and corners neare about to hinder his passage, and to kill him, and as many as were with him. Fourthly, that hee had beene told by Henry the fifth, as hee lay asleepe in the great chamber at Westminster in his Fathers time, by the barking of a Dog, a certaine man was discover'd behind the hangings, who being question'd by the Earle of Arundel, said, that hee was placed there by directions from the Bishop of Winchester to kill the Prince in his bed, and that being re­moved from thence, hee was immediatly drowned in the Thames. Fifthly, that he had told him likewise, that his Father in his latter times being troubled with grievous indispositions, the Bishop should say un­to him, that since hee was no longer fit for governmrnt, hee should doe well to transferre both the government and Crowne upon him. The Parliament was not easily brought to beleeve the circumstances of this accusation, especially when the Bishop gave in his answere; To the first hee said, that before the Duke of Gloster went to Hannault, hee and the councell good reasons moving them thereunto had orde­red, that the Towre of London for the time to come should bee victual­led and munition'd as other forts use to be. That after his being gone to Hannault, the Citie being in apparent danger, threatned by libels and seditious speeches, particularly against strangers (the greatest part whereof were for this cause fled) the councell fearing a rebellion had appointed Richard Woodville to be Lieutenant of the Towre (who to boote with the great affiance the deceased King had in him was Chamberlaine and Councellor to the Duke of Bedford) with di­rections, that during this his charge, hee should not suffer any one whosoever to enter therein that was stronger then himselfe, with­out particular commandement from the King or order to bee given by the Councell: that the Duke at his returne disliking this order would breake it; Hee pretended to enter and inhabite there being offended, that Woodville denied him entrance, and that the Bishop had [Page 34] advis'd him so to doe, the which hee did not deny; his reason being that the Duke desiring Richard Scot Lieutenant of the Tower to deliver up into his custody one Randall a Frier convict of treason a­gainst the late King, and who had bin some yeares Prisoner; Richard not able to deliver him without order from the Councell, nor to refuse his delivery without offending the Duke, desired him to send him such a command as might serve for his discharge, the which the Duke denied to doe; saying his commandement might serve for a sufficient discharge: so as the Bishop seeing him so farre exceed the limits of his authority, and not knowing where it would end, could not chuse but give Richard this advice, so much the more, for that after his returne from Hannault, hee had not forborne to allure some of the People, saying, that if they had beene ill dealt withall in his absence (as hee understood they had) they should bee so no more now that hee was present: and that as for the Tower, which was re­inforced to keepe them in awe (as who should say, they were not loyall) Hee would find a remedy for that, if they so pleased. To the second, that hee never had any intention to lay hands upon the King, much lesse to take him from where hee was, to governe him otherwise then, till then hee had beene, unlesse it were by the reso­lution of the Councell; that such a thought could no wayes availe him, but rather prove harmefull and dangerous to him, the which hee offered to make good in time and place convenient. To the third, that hee denied not to have done as much as was alleadged, but not to the end as was objected, that hee had beene certainely inform'd ever since the last Parliament at Winchester of the great ill will the Duke bore him; which made him resolve not to bee there, to shunne the evils wherewithall hee was threatned, that evident signes were seene of this, that certaine people of base condition being assembled together on the Thames side, where boates use to land, were heard to say, that if they should meete with the Bishop in that place, they would throw him into the River; and that the Sunday before All-Saints day, the Duke being demanded by the Councell, concerning his ill will to the Bishop, hee said it is true, and that it might bee his reasons should bee seene one day in writing, that the next Munday by the Dukes commandement (no reason being given for it) the Citizens were all night in Armes, saying injurious things against the Bishop; that commandement was likewise given to the Courtiers to bee with the Duke by 8. in the morning armed, that on Tues­day hee gave directions to the Major and Aldermen to send unto him 300. Horse-men to waite upon him, whither hee was to goe, which was (as it was said) to remove away the King without the Councels knowledge, all which being manifest signes of this the Bishops danger, hee resolved to prevent him, as it is lawfull for every one to defend himselfe, so as if he had fortified the Bridge to the end it might not bee forc't, it was not done with any intention of dam­nifying the Duke or any others, but to keepe himselfe from being damnified, since hee was not the assaylant but the defendant. To the fourth and fifth, that hee had bin true and loyall to all Kings, which [Page 35] if hee had not beene Henry the fifth, a wise King would not have trusted him so much as hee did. Hee offered to prove this; the proofe to bee such, as is wonted to bee granted to persons of his state and condition; that herein hee humbly intreated the Duke of Bedford and all the lords spirituall and temporall of that Parliament, since they were the lawfull Judges for the administration of justice, especially in this case, and because the aforesaid letter written to the Duke of Bedford suffered a sinister interpretation, hee interpreted it according to its naturall sence, the end for which it was written, not admitting of any other.

If this busines had hapened betweene private men, or that it had beene judgeable where Lextalionis is practised, it would not have beene so easily ended; but being betweene two great Lords almost equall in authority bloud, and followers, and where hee who layes treason to anothers charge, though calumniously undergoes no pu­nishment, but the hazard of single Duell, the remedy was easy, the condition of the times, the necessity of peace at home, and the evils which by doing otherwise were likely to ensue, being considered, for the cure of a Fistula differs from the cure of a wound, the one as soone as cut, must bee suddenly closed, the other being newly made must bee kept open to the end it may purge. But there was no probabili­ty in this accusation, the 3. first articles though they had some shew, yet was there no proofe of them, and that appearance wiped away by a more solid recremination; the fourth and fifth not to bee spoken of, since the dead are not call'd to witnesse, nor cited before Earthly Tribunals, they were alleadged onely to make the party accused ill thought of, not that there was any reason to condemne him for them. Moreover it is not likely, that in England where the accusa­tion witnesses, defence and judgement are all made in publique and in face of the Court, an accessary should bee privately drowned by night, the King not being advertis'd thereof, the party not delivered up into the hands of justice, nor confronted with his accuser: whilest the Prince who could not love the Bishop, seing the ill will hee bore him had so large a field to revenge himselfe in by Iustice, not being withstood either by any interest of feare, or want of proofe, the case being cleare, the guilty convinc't, the fault inexcusable treason in the highest degree; The order which was taken in this busines was to sweare all the Lords as well Ecclesiasticall as Temporall, to proceed therein without passion and with secresy, it was by them put over to the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, the Dukes of Exceter and Norfolke, the Bishops of Durham, Worcester, and Bath, the Earle of Stafford, the Lo. Privy Seale and the Lo. Cromwell, who after having made them promise to stand to their judgements as well themselves as their adherents; Glocester in the word of a Prince and sonne of a King, and the Bishop in the bare word of a Priest, they framed certaine words which they were to speake one to another, causing them, (the King being present) to come to the Parliament. The Bishop (seeming much grieved at the scandalous speeches layd to his charge) pressed much either to bee declared innocent, of what hee stood accused [Page 36] concerning the two last Kings (since hee was not, nor could not bee convinst thereof) or else that he might be permitted to justifie himself, and being gone out of the house, to allow them time to consider, hee was shortly after cald in againe, and Bedford in name of the whole house sayd unto him, that upon the examination of his request, the King and all the Lords declared him to be an honest man, and faithfull to both the Kings, which declaration was ordered to bee regestred amongst the Acts of Parliament, then saying the conceived words one to another, and having shaken hands, the businesse was ended, and they pacified.

The King was willing to witnesse his gladnesse of this accord, by solemne mirths and Court solemnities, he created Richard Planta­genet, sonne to the Earle of Cambridge, beheaded at Antona, Duke of Yorke. This title ceased in this family, through the death of Edward Plantaginet, slaine in the battle of Aiencourt, elder brother to the forenamed Earle of Cambride, and not to bee ransomed by this Richard his nephew, and next heire, without his being resto­red in blood as now hee was, this was hee who afterwards deposed the King, and who was the first cause of exturpating the house of Lancaster, having boldnesse enough to contest for the kingdome with him, and to lay claime thereunto in full Parliament, as wee shall here­after see in its due place; neither was hee likely to have arrived at so immense a bouldnesse had he not beene promoted to this honour, and honord by those high places of trust which by the King he afterwards was. But God governes things here below by meanes contrary to wordly reason, for whilst men foolishly beleeve that good turnes make past offences be forgotten, examples shew us that the correspon­dencies due to vertue and reason, ought not to be expected from men, but such as the interest of profit dayly produceth profit is that alone which surpassing vertue or reason spurnes at any other gratitude, the which though it ought not alwayes to be supposed, 'tis notwithstan­ding a want in judgement to thinke otherwise in great offences; espe­cially such as were these of this Richard; on whom no benefit being to be conferred, which was not inferior to the kingdome usurped from him, it was the chiefest of all others to chalke out vnto him, the wayes to the conquest thereof, and by conferring upon him honors, riches, and power, to indow him with an ability of doing what he did. An errour whereunto the best of men are onely subject, who expect not that from others which they themselves would not doe, this creation was accompanied with another of Iohn Moubray, who be­ing Earle Marshall was made Duke of Norfolke, which title was un­luckily enjoyed not above three yeares by his Father, who died in Venice, being banished for England the first yeare of Henry the fourth, this solemnitie was concluded by the order of knighthood, which the Duke of Bedford gave into the King, accompanied by 35 great Lords, or some of great Families, and the liberall contribution, which by way of subsidie was given in Parliament in consideration of the warre with France, no one City being exempt from the payments of mo­nies or raysing of souldiers. At this time the Duke of Exceter died, [Page 37] a man of great wisedome, who having no sonnes made the King his heire, though besides the Bishop, his brother, and the Countesse of Westmerland his Sister, hee had by her a great many Ne­phewes.

Richard Beauchamp Earle of Warwicke, whom the Duke of Bedford had left his Lievtenant in France, was not this meane while faultie in what belonged unto his charge for entring the County of Maine, hee tooke there many townes, and being returned to Paris met with this newes of his, being chosen to the government of the King in place of the deceased Duke of Exceter, though he went not into England till a good while after, advancing in the meane while by his service in France his Kings, his kingdomes and his owne reputation. Alansonnes liberty who was taken prisoner at the battell of Vernuille, was by the Duke of Burgundies meanes, (Bedford being at London) procured; his ransome came to 200000. Crownes: Faire offers were made unto him if hee he would forsake France and cleave unto England, in par­ticular, much of what hee was to pay was proffer'd to bee remitted him, but no offer promis'd, nor benefit could sever him from his af­fections unto this King and Country. Hee sould unto the Duke of Britanny (not being otherwise able to pay so great a summe) the Baro­ny of Fugures for 80000. peeces of gould called saluti, and 38000. which he was moreover to give him, for the which hee pawned unto him the two Rubies of la quaglia and Estampes, and the two brothers, fa­mous Iewels in the house of Britanny, the which being repawn'd by him and the rest made good out of his owne monies hee return'd into France. The Duke of Bedford went thither likewise with a great many Souldiers, having taken requisite order for the affaires in England. Hee was waited upon to Calis by the Bishop of Winchester, I know not whether in respect or to receive the Cardinalls Cap which was sent to him from Rome; the new discensions councelling him perhaps to doe so. This Prelate had coveted the being a Cardinall ever since Henry the fifths time; but that King much misliking his ambition, for­bid him to endeavour it; that rub being now out of the way, the present King a Child, and though Glocester his enemy yet Bedford his friend, there was none that withstood him therein. Hee receiv'd therewithall the faculty and title of Legat, which added to his in­combes, so as loosing his former name, he was through all the king­dome stiled the Ritch Cardinall.

The Count de Richmond this meane while endeavoured by his va­lour to repaire the ill fortune hee met withall at his entrance into the Constableship. In Anior he tooke La Methe upon conditions, and the Castle of Gollerande by assault. In Maine Ramfort by composition, and Malicort by force, where hee slew the English and hung up the French that defended it. On the other side Sir Iohn Hothall an English knight passing betweene Mans and Alansonne with 20. Horse was set upon by a Captaine call'd Monceau who had with him a troope of 120. fighting men; the English lighted from off their Horses in the midst of the highway, where they were set upon, and where there was no helpe, but a resolution either to overcome or die, they so behaving them­selves, [Page 38] as that killing many of them and putting the rest to flight, they tooke Iohn Sorret prisoner, a Brittish Gentleman, and returned safe to their Garrison; but the daily inrodes that the Norman Garrison made into Brittanny made the Duke thereof, resolve to shut them up with­in their owne limits, by fortifying Pontersonne. To this worke to­gether with the Constable came Messieurs de Castelbriand Beaumaneir, Lohac Castelghironne, Montalbon, Belforte, Charte, Rostrenan, Balliere, and others of Brittanny; the Constable of Scotland, Iohn Onscart, Walter Brusacke, and other French Commanders; these comming by night to descry the English fortifications, they were pursued by such as were within, with danger of being but ill treated; but as soone as the Constable had fortefied Pontersonne, hee went from thence leaving Mounsieur de Rostrenan Captaine thereof, and under him Mounsieur de Belfort, Iohn Veyer and Ouscourt, who doing as they had beene done by, did by incursions passe on to Auranches, doing all the mischiefe they could; but those of the Garrison not induring to bee braved underneath their walls, sallied forth, and had likely to have retired with losse, had not 400. English led by Mounsieur de Novestres come un­expectedly to their ayd, who charging Rostrenon tooke him prisoner, and together with him 140. others, not above two being left dead upon the field. This chance made the Duke of Britanny send Mussieurs de Castelbriand and Beaumaneir to command Pontersonne in Rostrenans place. I have described this action according to Argentres Hall, and the other English Historians, ascribe the glory onely to the Garrison of Auranches, not mentioning Novestres nor any others that came into their succour. So as being almost alwayes likely to meete with the like discordance, likelihood ought to open unto us the way to truth which by writers is with passion shut up, for no Iudge can injoyne us to beleeve one rather then another, unlesse the one relation be held Canonicall the other Apocriphall.

Pontersonne was a thorne in the Duke of Bedfords side, for it was a place whereby the enemy was much commodiated for the annoyance of Nor mandy, and his men hindred for doing the like to Britanny, so as resolving to quit himselfe thereof, hee sent thither the Earle of War­wicke accompanied by the Lord Scales and many others who layd siege unto it with 7000. men the first day of Lent. Belleforest and Ar­gentres writes that the Duke of Britanny knowing it was not able to hold out would have it abandoned, that so together with the towne he might not loose the people that were in it, that the French and Scots withdrew themselves from thence leaving onely the Britans there, who contrary to their Princes command would defend it, but it is hard to be beleeved that the Duke having purposely sent his bro­ther to fortefie it, assisted by so many Lords, and the worke of three nations, France, Scotland and Britanny, should afterwards repent it, as if no places were to bee defended save such as are inexpugnable, and that to busie the enemie in a long siege as was this, subject to so many contingences, especially of being succour'd either from Britanny, which was Contiguus with it, or from France, were a matter of no ad­vantage; besides it is not probable but that he should have foreseene [Page 39] the enemy would assay it, it being a place so contrary to his designes; and much lesse that the Brittish Garris on abandoned by the Scotch and French should dare to defend it, contrary to their Princes command: but howsoever it was the Earle of Warwicke besieging it, and those within valiantly behaving themselves, as well by defending it, as making often sallies, the siege was brought to that passe, as that the assailant wanting both meat and munition, and not having wonne one foote of ground, the Lord Scales was inforced to goe his wayes with 3000. men (Monstrelet sayes but 500.) to provide for necessities for the Campe, accompanied by Sir Iohn Harplay Bayliffe of Constan­tine, Sir William Breerton Bayliffe of Caen, Sir Ralfe Tassonne, and Sir Iohn Carbonall.

The Duke of Britanny who had made a generall Muster of all his Horse and Foote, and chosen out a part thereof under the command of Mounsieur de Castelgironne, Hanandaye and the Viscount of Belliers, lea­ving the rest, entertained a proposition made by the Baron of Coulonnis a Norman, to surprise the Lord Scales at his returne, in a place which he knew fit for the purpose. Hee gave the charge thereof to the above named; who guided by Coulonnis made an Ambuscado of 6000. men (Monstrelet saith but 1500. in a place called la Bassecourt, neare unto a Bridge, betweene Pontersonne and the plaine over against Monte Saint Michael, where the Lord Scales and his men were furiously set upon; this place as it was the more advantageous for the assailants, so was it the lesse proper for the assailed, who were beset on the one side by the enemy, on the other side by the sea, so as inanimated by necessity and danger, and despairing of all other hopes, then what they should by their Swords receive, they did in close files and on foote so well defend themselves, as that the Britons could never open them; but this their first heate being abated, and being withstood by an unex­pected and stout incounter, they began to give backe, and then to runne away, being followed at full speed by their enemies, who were gotten againe on Horsebacke, the number of those who were slaine and taken prisoners was about 1100. amongst the dead were the Baron Coulonnis, theinciter to this enterprise, Messieurs de Castelgi­ronne, and de Hananday, and amongst the prisoners the Viscount de Belliere, and many other Gentlemen. So as the Lord Scales loaded with vi­ctualls, munition, and prisoners, came with much honour and praise to the Campe. The Constable went afterwards to perswade the Duke his brother to succour the towne, but could by no meanes worke him thereunto, for his experience upon this occasion had pro­ved unto, that to hazard a battell might be his ruine; for by loosing it he should loose Dukedome, whereas the enemy was to loose no­thing but men, so as Pontersonne being for three moneths space well de­fended, and not succoured, surrendred it selfe in May, the Garrison marching forth with their Armes and baggage. Which as soone as the Duke of Bedford understood, he went from Roan to enter Britanny with a powerfull Army; and likely he was to have done good, had he not beene perswaded to accept of the Duke of Britannies offers: who being too weake to incounter with him, Pontersonne his chiefe [Page 40] hold being lost, his hopes but small of being succoured by Charles, hee himselfe not knowing what to doe, his Peeres and People affrigh­ted, having nor provisions, nor forces, no courage, but full of ap­prehension and danger; hee was compell'd to send unto him, that par­doning what was past hee would bee pleas'd to grant him peace. Bedford yeelded thereunto unwillingly, and as some will have it by bad advice; but in my opinion very discreetly; if wee consider the uncertainety of events. For the garrisons of Britanny (give the con­quest granted) would require a great many people, not to bee made use of elswhere: Countries subdued are subject to infidelity, and chiefely Britanny which naturally ill inclined was to bee thought subject to the least puffe of alteration, so as joyning it by this meanes unto himselfe, or if not so, cutting it off from the enemy. Hee might upon all occasions, like Poliphemus keepe it for his last bit. Moreo­ver hee could not have desired more honourable nor more advanta­geous conditions. For the Duke oblig'd himselfe to renounce all former confederacies made with the Kings of France; to observe the treaty of peace betweene the two Kingdomes; and to doe homage to King Henry (as soone as hee should have crost the Seas) in the selfe same manner as the Dukes his predecessors had done to the Kings of France, requiring but 3. monthes space after requiry. The Bishops and Barons of Britanny; bound themselves to the observance of this treaty, together with the Dukes two Sonnes Francis and Richard, the Chapters, Cathedrall Churches, Citizens and all those who amongst the meaner sort of gentry were of any name, so great was the feare, wherewith the one was inforced, the others surprised, fore­told (as Argentres will have it) by a terrible earthquake which shooke the whole Country of Nantes some few Monthes before.

Small things and but of small importance were done during the seige of Pontersonne; Nicholas Hansonne one of the garrison of S. Susan plundered the Country of Aniou: Hee tooke Ramfort be­fore the Captaine thereof knew of his comming, hee slew and tooke as many as hee found there. A number of the French on the other side assembled to succour Pontersonne, went to regaine Ramfort, they besieged it the space of 10. dayes, and Articles being made, that the defendants should come forth with their Armes; Horses and other provisions, they returned, abandoning their first designes. Messieures de Raise and Beumanoir tooke Malicorne and the Castle of Iude in the Country of Maine, by assault treating them according to the Lawes of places taken by force; they saved the lives of none save such by whom they might reape advantage; being gone from thence and Pontersonne surrendred, the above named Hanson surprised S. Lorance de Mortiers, the Captaine thereof being gone to heare Masse in a neigh­boring Church, and returning home, not knowing, that the Towne was taken, hee was tane prisoner, but those who followed him sav'd themselves. Falstaffe the Governour of Aniou and Maine having al­most at the same time taken the Castle of S. Oven by composition went to lay siege to Grieville, a place not to bee taken by force, but wanting victuals they treated on a surrender, if they should not bee [Page 41] succoured by such a day. Falstaffe himselfe went to advertise the Regent thereof, who suddenly came into the field hoping to fight, if the French should come; but they appeared not, though not farre off, being taught to bee circumspect by the battle of Vernuille. Grieville which this meane time was victuall'd deny'd to make good their treaty, and the English not likely to reape any good by tar­rying long there, raysed the siedge, hanging first in sight of the Castle their hostages their friends and fellow souldiers.

The Regent at his returne from England had given the charge of those men, which he then brought along with him, to the Lord Iohn Talbot, who afterwards proved one of the most famous Captaines in all the French warres. His name lives there yet amongst them, who never read his story: before that by his worth hee atchieved greater titles of honour, hee was of most noble bloud, Sonne to Richard Talbot Lord of Goderick Castle, who in his time had fought valiantly under Henry the fifth. Camden speaking of him cals him Englands Achilles. His warlike humour cannot bee better described, then by the Latin inscription on his sword, on the one side of which was read Sum Talbotty, on the other side, Per vincere inimicos meos. The Regent thought fit to conferre upon him the Government of Aniou and Maine, fitting Falstaffe with some other charge. The first thing hee did after having receaved his command was the taking in of Lavat, wherein Monsieur de Loac and other People of account, being casually at that time, they bargained for the liberty of their Persons and goods, paying therefore 100000. Crownes, none of the least usefull things in those times. The Regent this meane while being advertis'd that Montargis was not well provided for, sent thither the Earle of Suffolke. This place was not onely oportune, but necessary for him, in respect of the neernesse thereof to Paris, and for correspondency with Phi­lip (which though it were some what lessened by mistrust, yet did it remaine entire their reciprocall interest, making them appeare out­wardly friends, though their private distasts made them bee inwardly otherwise) then because it opened unto him the way to the taking of Orleans, the winning whereof would bee the totall ruine of what­soever Charles possest. The Earle obeyed, accompanied by his Bro­ther Sr. Iohn Poole, and Sr. Henry Basset together with 6000. Soul­diers, but finding the place well defended by good Souldiers and sufficiently victuall'd, though not for a long siedge, hee thought it rashnes to undertake the taking of it at first by force, so as pitching his campe, hee divided it into three parts, as the River Loinge upon which it stands, breaking out into certaine branches and marishes inforced him to doe; and to the end, that his quarters might have meanes of communication and succouring one another, hee built bridges in the fittest places, hoping for want of victuals to make it yeeld: whilest the Earle of Warwicke tarrying at S. Matelin d' Ar­champ, to withstand the succouring of the Towne, trusted too much to himselfe, not beleeving succour could bee brought by any other way then that where hee was, whereas if hee had made use of spies, necessary officers for a commander, he had not beene deceau'd. I will [Page 42] alleadge two examples to this purpose, the which though in latter times and not appertaining to our history may notwithstanding alwayes bee of use. The great Captaine Consalvo being by his owne King brought backe into Spaine and pursued by such as envied him, was requir'd to give an account of his disbursments in the conquest of the Kingdome of Naples; the first, Item of his accounts was, in Spies one Million, which when Ferdinand read hee tore the leafe and would read no more. A great Prince who I forbeare to name (though I could not name him, but with much honour) who was wont to de­fray his house with not above 20000. crownes spent 400000. crownes in Ambassadors, and spies, beleeving that ones owne state cannot bee secured without a perfect knowledge of that of others; the generals Judgement on which depends both good and bad reso­lutions, is best inlightned by such instructions as hee by this meanes receaves, and therefore prodigality which is alwayes harmefull in a Prince is commendable if thus imployd. Had Warwicke beene of this opinion, succour had not come unmet withall, and Montargis had not beene saved. This siege lasted two Monthes, before that Charles could thinke how to raise it, the Court contending with the Kingdome in disorders: and as Monsieur de Giac had succeeded in the authority of president of Provence, so did hee likewise in greedinesse and pride. Pride and avarice bereave men of their understanding, so as not profiting by the example of other men, they are not aware, that a singuler favour without worth or merit, hath beene and ever will bee with Princes slippery and precipitius: and that to aspire without reason, and to grow rich whilest other men grow poore, besides that it is hatefull, is of so perverse and obstinate a quality, that it brings men rather to death, then moderation. The Constable after the unfortunate siege of Beveronne was come to the King and complaining, that the detaining of the Souldiers pay was the cause of his losse, requir'd, that Monsieur de Giac might give an account of those moneyes, which for this purpose was raysed from the people. But Charles not minding this busines, giving signes that hee made more account of the Giac then of him; the Count was so highly in­censt, as setting aside all respect, hee caus'd de Giac to bee taken by night from his Wives side, to bee carried elswhere put into a Sacke and drown'd. Camus de Beaulier who succeeded in affaires with the like arrogance was not long after slaine in the Kings owne house, by a Souldier of the Marishall Bossac who thrust him through the throat with a dagger. The Constable could not brooke neglect, especially from such people; but hee was not therein to bee praised, though hee had sufficient cause to doe so; Princes ought to bee wrought upon by perswasion not violence, and who in any other manner seekes to pervert order or government, doe rather aggravate then take away offences, since errours ought rather to bee tollerated in Princes, then such violent remedies in subjects, as are rather to bee termed revenge then Iustice. The King was highly netled at these outragious inso­lencies, so as being much displeased with him, hee was the more con­firmed in his ill will towards him, by the bad offices of Monsieur [Page 39] de Tremulle a former favorit of the Constables, and by him brought into favour with the King. The Court being thus turmoyld Mon­targis ready to bee lost, the forces which were to bee sent thither but weake, some will have it, that the Constable framed excuses to shunne the employment, being possest with feare by reason of his late bad successe, and much more by the ill will, that Charles bore him. But Argentres sayes, hee was at that time gone into Britanny, and it is to bee beleev'd could not well brooke his sight. The charge of this succour was then generously undertaken by the Bastard of Or­leans, who had along with him the best captaines of all France, amongst which Iohn Stuart a Scot, William D'Albret, Goucourt, Guitri, Greville, Villiers, la Hire, Santreglie, Giles de S. Simon, and Walter Brossard, toge­ther with 1600. Souldiers, carriages, and victuals, the first thing hee did was to advertise the besieged of his comming. The English say, hee went thither by night, the French by day, the which if it were so, they should doe well to shew how hee past their Palisadoes and Trenches; for the English (by what wee read of them) are not wont to suffer themselves bee slaine and to runne away at so cheape tearmes, especially when they were more in number then the enemy, as likewise, that the feare of being stopped by the Earle of Warwicke and loosing of their provisions might have detained the French. For first, hee was lodged not farre from them, and then it is not likely, that hee wanted Sentinels by day, and that the Horsemen did not their duties in fit places, who were there of purpose to with­stand whosoever should venture to succour or victuall the Fort If it were by night nothing was impossible. The besieged had so blockt up the Waters as that they overflood the Bridges and made them impassible; they charged the two neerest quarters which were Pooles and Basset's, nor had they much trouble to enter them, for the enemies were all asleepe, great was the slaughter they there made. Poole saved himselfe by swimming over the River on horsebacke; and Basset past over the River likewise with 7. more in a little boate, others, in passing over a Bridge, which overburned with the waight of water; and those, who were upon it broke were drowned, so as 1500. were slaine and drowned. This worthy observation that the French Authours, who in all their actions count more English, then the English doe, in this alone count fewer, for whereas the English say, they were 6000. they will have them to have beene but 3000. whilest there is no likelyhood, that two great Lords as were War­wicke and Suffolke should bee sent with so few men, to besiege a place strongly scituated, and likely to bee succoured, if they shall say, they came with so few, because they thought to surprise it. I will allow it for good, if when they found the contrary, they had re­turned backe, but making a formall siedge for almost the space of 3. Months, they had beene out of their wits, if their numbers all that while had not beene augmented, so as it is not probable, that they set upon them by day, and that afterwards the English fled away favoured by the night (as they write) but rather (as the others say) that the two Earles the day being come presented battle, putting [Page 44] themselves in order before the Towne Walles, but that they were refused to bee fought withall, answer being made that they were victualled according to their designe, which was as much as they cared for; the Dane was gratiously receav'd by Charles, as hee well deserved; for though the action were done by night, yet was it ac­cording to reason of warre; so as having done what a wise and va­liant commander ought to have done, He would have beene thought rash in doing otherwise.

This happy successe was followed by another of great conse­quence, had it met with the like fortune. The City of Mans was under the power of the English, but the Inhabitants were inclined to Charles, so as resolving to shake of their yoake, which not being naturall is alwayes unwillingly borne, the chiefest of them with the assistance of some of the clergie conspir'd to free themselves of it, they advertis'd the Court of this; Messieurs d'Albret, de Faiette Orval, Beaumanoir, la Haire, and others were dispatch'd away thither with 500. Souldiers, a precise night was appointed for this deed, the signe was a little fire on the top of a hill, answered by another on the top of the steeple of the greatest Church, which were no sooner lighted then put out. The Inhabitants runne to the Gate which opened upon their friends where the troopes were ready, they slew the Gate-keeper and the Sentinell, they opened the Gates, the foot entred in, the Horse tarrying, that they might enter or keepe where they were, as occasion should require, great was the hurly burly, and greater the slaughter, for they were all asleepe, no man knew what the matter might bee, the Citizens who were not ac­quainted with the plot, beleeving that the Garrison had pillag'd some quarter of the City, kept within their owne dores, such English as had not yet met with their enemies sword, imagin'd either the matter as it was, or somewhat like unto it, or els, that there had beene some discention amongst the Citizens; The Earle of Suffolke Gover­nour of the City and who after his returne from Montargis was come to inhabite there, being advertis'd by some, who with much adoe had escaped, that the enemy was within the Towne, withdrew himselfe into the Castle, where all the rest that escaped being slaine, did likewise save themselves, but the place being but little, the people many, and no victuals, and inevitable ruine threatned them by the mines the enemy made, they were likely in a short time to bee re­duc'd to great extremity; the nearest place of hope was Alansonne; they dispatcht away a messenger who advertis'd the Lord Talbot of their condition, who went towards them the very same night with 700. fighting men, & came by morning to Guerche, two leagues distant from Mans, from whence hee sent away Mathew Gough to discover the enemies condition, and to advertise his friends; this man tooke on his way upon the comming on of night, and got into the Castle by night, unseene or undiscovered. Hee told them of the Castle of their friends arrivall, and from the received advertisment of the enemies carelesnes, who thinking themselves free from all manner of danger, minded nothing but their pleasures expecting when the [Page 45] Castle which abounded in mouthes, and wanted victualls should yeeld. Hee suddenly departed and met Talbot by the way, who ma­king hast least the day should overtake him, entred into the Castle by the field gate, and having rested himselfe a while, came downe upon the Citie, meeting with no obstacle, the entry being free, open, no trenches, no barracadoes no impediment, no guard, the assailants cry­ing Saint George and Talbot, they served as many as they met withall, as they had formerly done the English, for they caught them in the same manner; those who escaped fled away in their shirts, leaving their armes, weapons and what else they had behind them, the slaugh­ter was not great, because but few made any defence, and none denied to surrender themselves, so as the number of the dead and prisoners did not exceed 400. the greatest matter was how to forme processe a­gainst the conspirators: 30. Citizens and 35. Priests and religious peo­ple were beheaded, and the City remained in its former condition; the question onely was which of three things were most commendable in Talbot, his wisedome, his celeritie, or his valour.

This yeare the Earle of Warwick went into England to take up on him his charge of Governor of the King, and the Earle of Salisbury succee­ded 1428. him in the charge he held in France, who went thither with 5000. Souldiers; many were the disputations which were held in Paris at his arrivall concerning what enterprise was to be undertaken. He pro­pounded that of Orleans, wherein he met with great oppositions, but if danger should stop great enterprises, none would ever be underta­ken since they are all subject to uncertaintie and danger; 'tis very true that this brave Commanders reputation was the sole thing which made the Regent resolve upon it, as if Englands designe which was not to make that warre immortall, but to exclude Charles were not to be effected but by some such meanes; for the taking in of Orleans o­pened the way for the winning of Bourges, the place of his residency, which if they should get, trouble and time might goe to the outing of him of all the rest, but not so many dangers. Moreover the ta­king of that towne would not onely be a curbe to the river of Loire (in almost the midst of whose long course it is seated) but likewise to all the Townes situated uponit. The French writers accuse the Eng­lishmen of treachery, because by undertaking that siege, they broke the agreement made with the Duke of Orleans, that no hostilitie should be committed against that Citie, nor the Citie of Blois, be­longing both to his Parrimony, during his imprisonment. Where­upon they ground this I know not; for 'tis a childish thing to article with a prisoner that is an enemy, in what is advantageous to him, and the contrary to ones selfe, not being thereunto inforced neither by force nor reason; but say this were so, France is not so free from this fault as that shee should be the first that should cry whore; I will onely alledge one agreement made, if that of Bertigny was ever ob­served, let England though innocent bee condemned. The siege of Orleans being then resolved, the Earle of Salisbury went from Paris with requisite provisions, and 10000. fighting men, accompanied by the Earle of Suffolke and Lord Talbot; and desiring to have the way [Page 44] [...] [Page 45] [...] [Page 34] free betweene Paris and that Citie, hee tooke the Towne of Ianville by assault, and five dayes after the Castle thereof by composition, cau­sing some to bee put to death there, as having forsaken the side they had formerly sworne unto. Bogeances having yeelded it selfe, hee caused Proclamation to be made, that all priviledges and goods should be preserved unto such as would acknowledge Henry for their King. Ierguo and Meung by reason of this offer, brought in their keyes. He tooke Nogunt, Retrou, Puisset, Rochforte, Bertanwurt, Touri, Mompipeo, the Tower of Pleuviers and other places; hee presented himselfe before Orleans, the 12. of September Charles had sent to the defence of this Citie, Mounsieur de Busacke, and Mounsieur de Faiette, both Marshalls of France, the Bastard of Orleans (who commanded in chiefe during this siege) William Stuart Constable of Scotland, William Albret Lord d'Orvall, Mussieurs de Guicourt, Tovars Chavigni Greville, Chabannes, Ponton de S t. Treigle, La Hire, Valperga an Italian, and Luis de Vancourt together with 1200. Souldiers, Luis of Bourbone Count Cleremont went thither likewise uncommanded. The inhabitants pull'd downe all the suburbs of the Citie, amongst which 12. Parish Churches, foure Monasteries, places of pleasure, Gardens, Orchards, and whatsoever else could hinder the sight of the besieged, or bee of service for the Besiegers; within the Towne they spared not for any fortification or fence either to secure themselves from the besiegers, or whereby to be lesse exposed to their batteries, the Earle could not pitch his quarters unmolested with continuall skirmishes, which was the Souldiers daily exercise for three weekes together; but without any remarkable effect; Fortune disdaining to shew her countenance in things of so little moment; but the Bastard having made a salley forth by the gate of the Bridge, and being entertain'd with like bra­very, he lost many of his men, and had many of them taken prisoners; He made head againe at the great Tower upon the end of the bridge, from whence he was beaten backe, leaving the English masters of the Tower, which was presently given into the custody of William Glas­dale. This secured the Bridge, which was the safest way for victuals and succour. The Earle built many Forts round about, and especial­ly over against the gates; so as the Citie being little lesse then girt about seemed to be in a desperate case, not able without difficultie to befurnish'd with victualls or re-inforced with defendants, though the Citizens upon all occasions did voluntarily performe the duties of Souldiers; but this Tower a purchase so appearingly advantageous was the losse of Salisbury and the ruine of this and all other enterpri­ses; for blowes from heaven are like lightning, which wounds where it is not expected. The Tower had a bard window in the highest part thereof in the very face of the Citie, where the Captaines went oft times to discover such places as were most subject to danger, and where the Earle of Salisbury accompanied by Sir Thomas Gargrave and William Glasdale came to looke out. A Canoniere observing that many people used to appeare at that window, levell'd a piece of Canon against it, and going to dinner, left order with his sonne, that if hee should see any one at that window hee should give fire [Page 48] unto it, which just as the Earle came thither hee did; the Bullet broke the Iron barres which gave upon the Earles head, stri­king out one of his eyes, and bearing away one of his Iawes, and wounded Gargrave so sorely, as that he died thereof two dayes af­ter; at eight dayes end the Earle dyed likewise, leaving one onely daughter behind him; whose sonne shewed himselfe (though to the publique losse) to be descended from that gallant man; no death was ever more lamented. The Souldiers beleeving that in his losse, all was lost, as indeed it fell out; for the good fortune of the English de­clined from that time forward, even to their being wholly driven out of France. The Duke of Bedford who was mainely sensible of this newes, deputed the Earle of Suffolke in his place, and made the Lord Scales and Lord Talbot and Sir Iohn Falstaffe, chiefe under him in that Campe; they did what they could, not to loose the enterprise toge­ther with their Generall, but their worth could not withstand the change of Fortune.

The first day of the yeare they essayed to scale the Bulwarke be­fore 1429. the gate Saint Renard, which being stoutly defended, they retired; the second day the Citie was succour'd with some small provisions brought by the Admirall Gallant, who waded thorough the Loire, in a season which being extraordinarily dry, though in the midst of winter suffer'd them to passe and repasse without danger, and in his returne meeting with some troopes that went a freebooting, he set up­on them, defeated them, and retired safely. The Campe stood in great neede of Victualls, Artillerie and munition; wheresore they sent Sir Iohn Falstaffe, Sir Iohn Ramstone and Sir Philip Hall with some Forces to the Regent to convey some unto them; they were furnished with a great many Carts and Sumpters, the Regent adding to their small numbers Simon Mosier Provost of Paris, together with a part of the guard of that Citie, and some of his owne Domestiques, which in all made up 1500. not counting those who waited on the Carriages; they marched in good order, not meeting with any obstacle, till be­ing come to Rounray they might discover betweene 9. and 10000. of the enemy, the French say betweene 4. and 5000. Serres but 4000. led by the Duke of Bourbonne to succour Orleans, but as hee was deceav'd in the person of the Conductor, taking the Father for the Sonne (for the Duke of Bourbonne was then prisoner in England) so was hee de­ceiv'd in the number; though I doe not beleeve they were 9. or 10000. for so great a number would have beene sufficient to have fought with the besiegers Campe. But were they more or lesse, they flew upon the English, as if assured of victory, for their Troopes being assuredly great, and having nothing to hinder them, the enemy incumbred, fewer in number and weary with Marching, they beleeved them not onely not fit to fight, but neither yet to put themselves in defence. The Scottish-men who were better acquainted with the English and knowing the effect of their arrowes, knew how to bee thereby least damnified advised to fight on foote, but they were not listned unto, so as every one following their owne fancy much disorder ensued. Falstaffe at the appearance of this cloud, was together with all his men [Page 48] lighted off horsebacke, and making one firme body of them, fenced them about with the carriages, and planted his wonted stakes expe­cting to be set upon as he was; but businesses were so carryed that after much shooting & many handy blowes, the great number of the enemy vanished, some of them being slaine, some retiring in good order, and some taken prisoners; the cheefe that were slaine were the Constable of Scotland, and his Brother Mussieurs d' Orvall, Chasteau Brune, Montpipe Werdusan Duray, Grave, and some sixscore gentlemen more, part French, part Gascons, the rest almost all Scots: the English count 1100. prisoners; Dupleix but onely one and he a Scotchman. Serres accuses Count Clerement (whom he formerly called the Duke of Brabant) of want of courage, for that frightned at this blow, he and his men went their wayes abandoning the besieged, which Guitres, Gancourt, Greiville, Villiers La Hile, and S. Raigle did not, resolving all of them to see the end thereof under the Bastard of Orleans. The English came unto the Camp with their expected carriage, & with their unexpected prisoners & because the provisions which they brought consisted much of Her­rings, it being Lent, the French entitle this incounter the Herring day. This defeat did much perplex the besieged for all their resolution of well defending themselves; for though generous hearts in adversity do not goe lesse in courage, yeare they distemper'd by eminent dangers; for where courage pretends the two distinct offices of Captaine and Souldiers, it pretends ruine; for wisedome ought onely to regulate, she being the onely lawfull egger on, or withholder, of what ever generositie or fortitude, such qualities as were required in a good Souldier, were not wanting in the Bastard of Orleans, and the Inhabi­tants abounded in all such conditions as a Prince can desire in his peo­ple; in love to him, in hatred to their enemies, and in resolution a­mongst themselves, rather to suffer the worst of evills then suffer themselves to be governed by forrainers, yet wee are neither Numan­tinians nor Saganthians. Christian religion forbids it us, but as wee must dye when one Humidum radicale, or radicall moisture failes, so the yeelding unto others doth consequently follow the want of for­ces, and bad fortune. Charles was weake, his helpes desperate, he wan­ted Souldiers, wanted Captaines, a many whereof were slaine in this battell; the Citie full of people, victuals growne scarce, and dange­rous it was to expose themselves to the last of dangers; the defen­dants lives was not the onely thing in question, but their wives, chil­dren, goods, and country to which ones dutie is performed, when all is done that may be; the surplusse is not generositie but impotency of minde repugning it selfe, for all this, they could never pitch upon the resolution of yeelding themselves unto their enemy, though it were impossible for them to hold out many weekes, but no understan­ding is more speculative then that of Prisoners; These were no bet­ter, shut up in an expectation of speedy death or servitude; they be­thought themselves to offer up the Citie, upon condition that it should be delivered into the hands of the Duke of Burgony; for if this offer were accepted of, they were to remaine under the command of a Frenchman, a Prince of the blood, and though an enemy, not so of his [Page 49] owne inclination but by passion, and this much abated of its first fer­vency, and if it should not be accepted of, it was likely by reason of the distaste this refusall would cause in him, to procure an alienation in that Duke from the English, as though not immediatly, yet not long after it did; to this purpose Embassadours were sent to the Regent with two propositions, the first that the towne of Orleans might bee held as a Neutrall, alleadging that it was no reason the jurisdictions of their Duke, now prisoner in England, should be molested contrary to the articles agreed upon betweene the Crowne of England and him; the second, that if this might not be granted, that the towne of Orle­ans might be assigned over into the hands of the Duke of Burgony, a friend and confederate of England, as upon these conditions it should be; to the former the Regent answered that the Duke of Orleans was not taken prisoner upon conditions, but in the battle of Agencourt, where­in there was no treaty, neither of life nor livelihood, that therefore that which they pretended unto was ridiculous and new, since his ju­risdictions as those of an enemy, and as those which in all actions of enmitie tooke part with Charles, were subject to the lawes of Warre, and lawfully to be oppugned: To the second that England having un­dertaken this enterprise at a great charge, and with the losse of so ma­ny great commanders and Souldiers, no other body having contri­buted, hazarded or lost any thing therein, to require of them to in­vest a third party therewithall, defrauding themselves thereof was an unjust and anindiscreet request, and not to be granted; this nega­tive displeased Philip, but if hee herewithall incited his Councellors to anger (who pretended themselves to be treated withall like fooles, since that they having framed the net by turning the kingdome of France upside downe, others injoy'd the fruit thereof.) Hee did it against reason, for Philip would have done the same: Those who ac­cuse Bedford of folly, that being able to have wonne Orleans he lost it, for not being willing to trust it in a friends hands, doe judge by the event, after the which any man may be wise. A towne abandoned by reason of the Kings impotency, without victuals, without munition, which parlied, which offered it selfe; a battle formerly lost against all rule or reason, and therein the losse of so many Captaines and Soul­diers: to make Philip more powerfull, with whom for past distasts they were to proceede with more caution; to open unto him the way of making himselfe master of all such places as could not bee made good; to make him Arbitror of France that hee might dispose of it at his pleasure, after that he had intended his owne ends, added so ma­ny Provinces to what formerly possessed by him, the English by wa­ging warre with Charles having diverted all his oppositions, without the which he could not have inlarged his territories, and at this pre­sent yeeld up Orleans unto him, was to make them be rather reputed weake then wise. I deny not but that he might have done better to have yeelded it unto him, but am onely thereunto drawne by the event contrary to the preceeding apparances and foresight, wherein if a man erre he is not to be blamed for it, but if it had beene possible that a contrary event might have shewne us, how Philip would have [Page 50] behaved himselfe having gotten Orleans, we would then perhaps bee of another opinion; 'tis true that one onely reason, and that a great one, contradicts what hath beene formerly said. Bedfords wisedome ought to have beene regulated according to that of the deceased King his brother, who by his last will having left the Regency of France to Philip if he would accept thereof, he was unjustly dealt withall to be now denied a Towne, not coveted by him, but offered unto him as a surety, when hee mought have had the whole and would not, and this so much the more, for that his trusting of him in this, had been able to have sweetnedall past dislikes, and to have made him as for­merly an intire friend.

Thus all return'd to their owne former affaires; the Embassadours to Orleans, the English to the continuation of their siege, wherein but very little was done; the Souldiers on both sides spared them­selves; those within, that they might not lessen themselves being but few, and those without, hoping that time and hunger might effect that, which till then by all their machinations and assaults they could not doe: but they were both deceived, though in a different manner: luckily the besieged, for the evill they expected and apprehended turn'd to good; unluckily the besiegers, for the confidence of that purchase was turned to the not looked for losse of that place & others. Charles was advised to retire himselfe, for the losse of Berry and Tour­raine being granted if Orleans were lost, he might by tarrying under­goe many dangers, especially the being besieged in some place or other; the which if it should happen, hee should hazard, together with his liberty, the losse of that title which he yet was possessed of, the preservation whereof depended upon the preservation of his per­son. They counsel'd him to goe into Daulphine, for from Grenoble a safe place, he might by the succours of the Count of Province King of Sicily his cousen, the Counts de Fois Armigniac and Cominges defend Lionois, Auvergnia and Languedoc: but such as were of a contrary opi­nion sayd, that to passe over the River Rhone, and abandon the Pro­vinces situated on the other side, was the way to undoe him; for if in the midst of so many dangers hee should abandon his subjects, what could they doe but abandon him? that to trust Fortune was to be his last resolution: Being thus in doubt what to doe, hee was succoured by one Iane d' Arc, a meanes unexpected by him, nor foreseene by such as looked for new events; this womans story is full of extrava­gancies and controverted not onely betweene the two contrary par­ties, but betweene the French themselves. Of these two former the one affirmes her to be a virgin, a Saint, sent by God to deliver that kingdome; the other gives her out to be unchast, an heretique, a sor­ceresse, a witch, and for such a one condemned; the third dissenting from the latter in the last Articles, doe the like from the others in the former; for they beleeved her to bee unchast, and raised up by the craft of some great ones, who not able to cheere up mens cast-downe hearts by any arguments of worth, thought to raise them up by su­perstition, which prevailes much in calamitous times. With these I side, finding no reason to make me beleeve the former, nor suffici­ent [Page 51] proofe to make me admit of the second's opinion, all of them ful of uncertainty and passion. I know, it is not lawfull for us to examine the works of God, but it will bee granted me, that it is not onely law­full, but necessary to search out whether any humane action, reputed the handyworke of God, bee so or no. Shee was borne in Lorraine, in the Parish of S. Rhemes, her Parents peasants, her exer­cise was to feed sheepe (Pasquiere sayes to spinne and sowe) her age, some say 18. some 20. some 22. (Pasquiere sayes 29.) her inclina­tion (according to Du Pleix) pious, confirmed by the Hermitage of Maddona de Beaumont neare the place where shee dwelt, devoted (next to God Almighty) to the Virgin Mary, to the Angels Michael and Gabriell, and to S. Catherine and S. Margaret, who having oftentimes appeared to her, did reveale unto her that S. Charlemaine and S. Lewis had prayed to God in the behalfe of her King Charles the seventh for the delivery of the Citie of Orleans, after the which the English should bee overcome and beaten out of France; that the Duke of Orleans should shortly recover his liberty; that the Dolphin Charles should bee crowned in Rheims, wayted upon by her; that here upon putting on mans apparell, shee should goe to find out Charles, procuring a com­mande of Men, Horses and Armes to fight in his service; that in the execution of these commissions shee presented herselfe before Ro­bert de Baudicourt Governour of Vaucolore, who though hee did not at the first beleeve her, yet convinc't by her constant asseverations, he made her (clad like a man) bee conducted to Chinon, where the King then was, to whom the busines seemed the lesse strange, for that hee had beene formerly foretold by another Virgin called Mary of Avignon, who was likewise vers't in revelations, that hee and his Kingdome after much calamity and affliction, should by the means of a Virgin bee freed from the tyranny of strangers; that hee caused her be brought into his chamber, where but meanly apparell'd himselfe, he was conversing with Princes & great Lords richly attired, which shee not esteeming, add rest herselfe immediatly to Charles, re­presenting unto him with much confidence, for what causes God had sent unto him; that being examined by certaine divines touching her faith, revelations, life, and causes of her journey, shee did satisfie them with such simplicity, modesty, and resolution, as that they esteemed her sent from God for actions of great importance; that being searched by divers Midwives in the presence of the Queene, the Queene of Sicily, and other Ladies, they found her to bee a Virgin, whereupon shee was afterwards called the Virgin or Maid of Orleans; that shee much desired to have a sword which was found in the Church of S. Catherin de Forbois in Touraine, buried with the ashes of a Knight behind the Altar, the which being marked with three Crosses and rusty, the rust fell all forthwith off, no meanes or art being used; that a Horseman meeting with her and understanding that shee was the Maid of Orleans, accompanied his lewd thoughts with some fowle words and blasphemous speeches, whereupon shee said, O miserable man that thou art, who art at deathes doore, and dost blaspheme God; that within one houre after hee being in a [Page 52] River, fell off his Horse and was drowned; so as by so many signes of the grace of God as shin'd in her, resolution was taken to give her men and victuall's to releeve Orleans under the conduct of Mussieurs de Rieux, Marishall de Cullant Admirall of France, the King having given her Horse and Armes for her owne Person, and deputing for her guard one Dolon an antient Knight, one of his Councellors, and Sheriffe of Beaucaire. This relation is made by Du Pleix a mo­derne Writer, who complaines of his not being therein beleeved, as if it were as much to bee beleeved as an Article of faith. Hee agrees in many things with them that are of his opinion, in some things hee sayes more then they; as the miracle of the Horsman, and the cleansing the sword without art, to the which hee ascribes the marke of three Crosses, but they three flower de-luces on both sides: likewise they say not, that it was buried with a Knight, but hung up with other rusty swords and prison Irons, which by devotion or vow were found in that Church. Giles and Belleforest write, that Baudicourt was not well satisfied for what concern'd her till the hearing day, at which very time shee told him that France had re­ceiv'd a great defeat, and that it would receive many more, if hee would not take order for the convaying of her unto the King; so as hearing that that losse had hapned the very day shee had foretold it him, hee thought hee should offend God, and doe dis-service to the King should hee not send her, and therefore dispatch'd her away suddenly; that shee said some things to the King which were never by him retold to any, but that laying aside all melancholy, hee seemed ever after to bee exceeding joyfull, that when shee demanded the aforesaid sword of him, hee asked her how shee came to the knowledge thereof, and whether shee had ever beene in that Church, or no; to the which shee answered, No, but that shee knew it by divine revelation, and that there withall shee was to drive out all his ene­mies, and to lead him into Rheims to bee annoynted and consecrated; and to strengthen their testimony they produce Mieres a Flemish Au­thour; who, though he bee accused of falsehood and partiality against the French, they will yet have him in this to bee on their side, and to say the truth; but tis a strange thing, that the English differ not in this, and the French doe. Vasseburg, Paradine, and Hallian, write diversly of her, to whom Argentres may bee joyned for a fourth. I will relate what Hallian sayes of this in his history, and in his booke intituled, Touching the estate and successe of affaires in France.His words are these, ‘The miracle of this Woman, were it true or false, did much incourage the depressed hearts both of King, Lords and People; of so great power is religion and sometimes superstition; for some thought her to bee a Wench belonging to Iohn Bastard of Orleans, others to Monsieur de Baudicourt, and others to Lentruille, who being wary, and knowing the King to bee so moap't as that hee neither knew what to doe nor say, the people to bee so dejected as that they were not to bee cheered by any humane hopes, they bee-thought themselves how to make use of a false miracle, as a meanes which infuseth courage and strength into men, and which [Page 53] makes men, especially such as are simple, more then is true; the people being subject to beleeve such superstitions: so as they are not to bee condemn'd who beleeve her to bee a Virgin sent by God, nor yet they which beleeve otherwise. These noble men spent some dayes in instructing her in all such things as shee was to an­swer to the demands the King might likely make her, and such as in his presence they would aske of her, for they themselves were to interrogate her; and to the end shee might know the King from among the rest, shee never having seene him, they oftentimes made her contemplate his picture, and failed not to bee present the day that shee was to come, being themselves to bee Actors in this bu­sines. The first, that askt her what her busines was, was the Bastard of Orleans and Baudicourt; she answear'd, shee would speake with the King: then they there presenting some of the Lords that were there present for the King, shee said, that was not hee, for hee was hidden behind his bed, whither shee went to find him; and a little while after hee adds, This invention of counterfeit and fained reli­gion was of such advantage to this Kingdome, as that it infused hope into men that were before deprest by despaire. Hitherto’ Hallian.Now that this was rather to bee beleeved then the other re­port, Argentres seemes to denote, where sometime after hee makes her incounter with the Constable. Monsieur de Tremuille was by the Constables meanes brought into favour with Charles, and hee like an ingrate person had wrought the Constable out of favour with him, made him bee forbidden the Court, diminished his pensions, given order to the Citie to shut their Gates upon him, and to the Captaines to fight with him; the which the wisest sort thinking to bee somewhat hard, the Maid willed it should bee put in execu­tion; but the contrary opinion prevailing, shee went along with others to meet him, who did him this honour not onely as being a Prince, but as being Constable, and their superiour; so as being informed of her bad offices, as hee came to salute her, said, Jane, I understand you would have fought with mee; I know not what you are, nor by whom sent, whether by God or the Divell; if by God, I feare you not, for hee knowes my intentions as well as yours: if by the Divell, I value you much lesse, therefore doe the worst you can, I defie you. Whereby is plainely seene, what opinion was held of her; and that having failed upon this occasion, as in many others, shee had no Spirit of revelation, for then shee would not have beene subject to ambiguity in the undertaking of things, nor to inconstancy in the putting of them in execution: For what concernes Messierus his testimony, every man who speakes of other mens actions doth say and beleeve what is said and beleeved by a concurrence of Writers, not having heard those who affirme the contrary. Moreover, though hee were a Fleming by Nation, yet was hee not separated from the interest of France; For if in some things, hee writ in favour of Philip against the French, hee writ many things wherein Philip was not concern'd (as namely this) infavour of them; but the evidence that hee brings of this Woman [Page 54] for what concernes Philip, ought not make that bee beleeved which hee had formerly written in the favour thereof. Hee brings her forth as sent by God, but not against Philip: Hee affirmes that shee had not like successe against the Burgonians as shee had against the English; that some said, though shee were of power against these, yet was shee not so against those; as if grace had beene conferr'd upon her conditionally, lesse towards them, and in abundance towards the English. To witnesse the which, hee alleadges two cases: the one, that being gone to the siedge of Senlis, in the defence whereof, be­sides the English, there were many Burgonians under the command of Lilliadam and Croy, shee advised sometimes to fight, and sometimes not, having lost in some small skirmishes 300. men, that is as much as to say, shee had taken Senlis if there had beene none but English there; that the like befell her before Paris from whence shee retreated wounded in her legge. In a word, Sodome was spared as long as Lot stayed there; but if it were so, I see not any reason hee had to beleeve much therein, since these contrary events shew the falshood of her re­velations; for since errour did ensue thereon, they proceeded not from God, from whom comes no errour: and if hee will have them to bee true, but not obeyed, he will find that the Lord God delivered up a disobedient Prophet to bee the prey of a Lion, and that hee tooke away his grace and kingdome from the first disobedient King. The chiefe reasons which the French produce to prove her being sent by God, are her requiring that sword which shee had never seene, as placed in a Church where shee had never beene, and her having said many things in secret unto the King, which were ne­ver by him retold to any man; the argument of the sword is very light, for if her comming was by cozenage, other things were effe­cted by the same deceit, without the which shee was not to bee be­leeved in the principall, but the diversity of writing of the place, of the miracle, of the rust which fell off of it selfe, and of the diversity of the marke, there is no man who will not account it a manifest signe of falshood. I forbeare to mention in the necessity of this sword, the supposall of somewhat of fatality (according to the Eth­nickes opinions) and that France should bee delivered by the vertue thereof, and not of other weapons, smels of a Romansa and inchant­ment. The Kings keeping her Counsell doth no wayes take from, but rather aggravate the former suspitions. Hee should have averr'd the fact, at least after her death, since such secrets appertain'd onely unto himselfe, and were one day to bee knowne, unlesse it were that, taken up into the third Heaven as was Saint Paul, shee had partici­pated such things unto him as are not lawfull to bee told to man. Finally, to cry downe them for Hereticks who doe not beleeve in her, is an apparant vanity: wee are then infidels, when wee have not that sanctified sense of faith, to the which wee are by faith bound; when the usuall and dayly workes of God, which march under the name of nature are not received and admired by us, as the workes of his omnipotencie; and when wee doe not beleeve his extraordi­nary workes, the which being at the same time supernaturall and [Page 55] yet visible (as Miracles) cannot bee denied without infidelity; but such as doe or may depend upon humane cunning or wariness, unlesse the proofes thereof bee more then evident, wee may without any scruple of infidelity, not onely doubt thereof, but absolutely deny them. The true causes why this was so strictly prest were two: that which hath already beene sayd to raise up mens spirits, to the end that out of the imagination of speciall help from Heaven, they might under­take, what their owne faintnesse made them give over; the other, that fraud being turn'd miracle, Charles his pretences might bee declared just, and Henries unjust, for God doth not protect injustice. Monstrelet describing her, as doe the rest, agrees with the English in that point of her; having serv'd a long time in an Inne, and that as shee watered Horses, shee rid them without any manner of feare, having abilities not usuall in that sex; the which the French deny in words, but in ef­fect confesse, when, describing her entry into Orleans, and arming her with white Armes, they make her ride upon a Courser of the same colour, whilest it is to bee supposed, either that shee would not have knowne how to have govern'd him if shee had not for­merly practised to [...]ide, or els that shee did it by miracle: to affirme it done by miracle is too much to abuse miracles by too profane boldnesse; if otherwise, it was a couzenage handsomely plotted to chuse out a Woman, which knowing how to do things which other Women usually know not, the simple sort were made to beleeve them as extraordinary, not in the sexe, but in nature.

The assembly of people and victuall's which were to bee brought into Orleans was made at Blois, whither the maid came and marched on with the succour. Her Standard was borne displayed before her, wherein were painted three Angels, one in one corner, another in another, with a flowre de Luce in their hand; in the midst the image of the Virgin Mary, opposite to the which stood the third, which presented a flowre de Luce unto her. Her intention was to enter fighting, but the Conductors, who did not beleeve it, knowing that the greatest part of the besiegers were on Beaux side, left that way and tooke the other of Soulogne, as the more safe. When they were come to the River they passed over their victuall's, the English not stirring one foote, and entred the City with great applause of the Citizens; but the English say, they made their entry by night, fa­vour'd by a darke season, wherein it did both thunder and raine, so as they were neither heard nor seene. The chiefe Conductors returned backe to Blois to bring more victuall's and munition which yet remained there, while the Bastard of Orleans sent for all the forces that were at Montargis, Schattadune, and other strengths there abouts; with the which, accompanied by the maide, hee went to meet them, and passing by the enemies forts, none of the enemy budging, they entred safely into the City; the easines of this second succour ought not (as I suppose) bee ascribed to a miracle, as well for that the like hath hapned upon the like occasions and in other places, as likewise for that two things did facilitate it: the one, that upon the beleefe of the Maids being sent by God, 7000. Voluntiers came flocking to [Page 56] them, who without this would not have tane up armes for all that Charles could either have said or done unto them; the other, for that (as some of them do write) they were purposely let passe out of hopes, that the City would the sooner bee famished by the increase of her number: thus was it twice victualled the night in the former, and the multitude of Souldiers in the second; making the miracle by the meanes of who (nor hoped for, nor expected before) the maide being to doe great matters, shee (as a Messenger from Heaven) would first perswade her enemies peaceably to depart; by this Letter transla­ted and set downe in its owne naturall antient phrase, as it is more succinctly registred by Serres.

KIng of England, doe reason to the King of Heaven touching his bloud royall, deliver up unto the Maid, the keyes of all the good Cities you hould by violence; shee is come from God to demand, what is due to the bloud royall, shee is ready for peace if you will doe her reason, paying and quitting what you possesse; if you doe not this, King of England, I am the Head of Warre: in whatsoever part of France, I shall meet with your people, I will drive them out will they nill they; If they will obey, I will receive them to mercy. The Maid comes from the King of Heaven, and if you will not obey her, shee will make you so great an Hahai, as the like hath not beene heard this thousand yeares in France; for you ought firmely to beleeve the King of Hea­ven will give to her, and her good Souldiers more force then you are likely to have, goe to your owne Country in Gods name, and bee not stubborne, for you shall not hold France by permission of the King of Heaven, Sonne of Saint Mary; but King Charles the true heire shall hold it to whom-God hath given it, and who shall enter Paris with a faire company.

You William Poole Earle of Suffolke, you John Lord Talbot, you Thomas Lord Scales, Lieutenants to the Duke of Bedford, and you Duke of Bedford, who call your selfe Regent in the Kingdome of France, spare the innocent bloud, leave Orleans in liberty, for if you will not doe reason to those, you have done wrong unto; The French will doc the bravest deed was ever done in Europe, thinke well upon what God, and the Maid sayes unto you.

No man will thinke it could produce any thing but laughter, but by what soone ensued, that laughter was turned to an other tone. The Frenchmen say, that the Trumpetter who brought the Letter, was contrary to the law of Nations detained, and that hee hardly escaped being burnt; Chartier and Dupleix adde, that after the siedge, he was found in shackles, which whither it was so or no, I cannot tell: for the English say nothing in this point, and the French doe not all agree in one relation, therefore let it bee lawfull for every one to beleeve as hee listeth; but it is hard to beleeve (if it were so) that the rage of those who were driven away, who formerly had a minde to burne him should not provoke them to kill him before they went, since they did not depart in such hast, (as Chartier will have them to have done) but that they might have time enough to have done it, since it consisted onely in the striking of one stroake. The besieged con­sulted [Page 57] what they had to doe, being by the Maiden assured of certaine victory, they resolved to begin with the Fort of Saint Lupe, plac't over against the gate of Burgony and guarded by 400. Foote.

Fortune favoured their forwardnesse, they set upon it the fourth of May with so much resolution, as that though it were manfully defended, it was after long contestation more manfully gotten, the garrison was put to the sword, the Fort burnt, the Artillery and mu­nition brought into the Citie, and since Serres writes, that the maid was the first that entred the towne crying Monjoy Saint Denis victory; let us grant her this honour, though the rest who speake of her as the head of the enterprise speake not one word thereof. They left the towne the next day, and tooke two Forts, St. Iohn and Londre, the first was easily taken, the second not so easily, where the Souldiers were cut in pieces, and many French prisoners recovered, the sixt day they assai­led the tower upon the bridge, defended by Gladisdale by them cal­led Classidas, and highly commended; the fight continued from breake of day till Sunne set. Gladisdale was slaine together with the Lord Merlin and Poinings and many Souldiers. The maid was wounded with an Arrow betweene the necke and the backe, but shee forbore not though to fight, and to incourage her men, Dupleix saith, that the Bastard of Orleans seeing the stout resolution of the defendants would have sounded a retreate, but being intreated to the contrary by her, he did not. That having retired herselfe to her Oraisons, for halfe a quarter of an houre she returned more couragious then before, em­boldening the rest by her example, and againe, that shee having till then beene undervalued by the English, they seeing her valour, be­gan now to thinke that there was somewhat more then humane in her, which formerly they did not beleeve, and that they were led to this by one of Merlins prophecies which foretold that they should be rui­nated in France by the meanes of a maid. To the first 'tis answered, that it was by him invented, since that hee sayes that which others doe not, the more to confirme the opinion of her pretended sanctity; so the second that amongst all Merlins prophecies there is not any one such; there is none of any understanding in England who doe not hold Merlins prophecies as invented tales; the diversity of editions (the one not agreeing with the other, as every one of the compositors best liked his owne) proves this clearely unto us, but to leave gene­ralls, no historian mentions any such thing save himselfe, so as the English could thinke no otherwise of the maid then as of an imposture chosen for that purpose, neither is it they alone that doe beleeve this, for the sharpest sighted of France did and doe beleeve it. Things were brought to that passe as hath beene said, to the besiegers great disad­vantage, so as the besieged pursuing their good fortune, provided to invade such Forts as yet remained in the possession of the enemy, the first was that of the Lord Talbot, who not waiting for them lockt up within, met them abroad, fought with them, and forced them to re­tire with the losse of some men and Artillery, but this imported no­thing to what remained to continue; the siege was dangerous, the Ci­tie was free on the side of Soulogne, the number of the enemie was in­creased [Page 58] and daily to increase more in number already then were they; victualls could not be inhibited them; to recover what was lost was impossible; so as they resolved to rise from before the towne, which was no sooner mention'd, then put in execution: but to take away all appearances that they should be driven away, they resolved (their Forts being forsaken) to put themselves in battle array, to expect the enemie to fight with them if they should come, if not to retreat as they did; for the French making them a bridge of gold by keeping within the Citie, having expected them the greatest part of the day, they marcht away in good order, after seven monethes siege. The Earle of Suffolke came with 400. men to Iergeau, Talbot to Meune, and the rest to other places. Iohn Chartier sayes, that at the end of the the siege there were left but 4000. of the English. Serres sayes, that they stole away by night in a squadron of 9000. and marched towards Baugences, but since he is noted of falshood by his owne country men, tis needlesse for me to endeavour to confute this flight by night, for the rest relate it as we have done; this was the end of the siege of Orleans: A game blow, for as in the losse there of Charles would have runne in danger of loosing his whole kingdome, so in the preservation thereof, the English lost France; the Citizens and Souldiers joy, and the Maids glory is not to be exprest, the Forts were throwne downe and tren­ches fild up, and a Crucifix in brasse was erected upon the Citie bridge, on the one side thereof was the effigies of King Charles, and another of the Maide on the other side, both upon their knees and in Armour, as they are there at this day to be seene; and a decree was made that the memoriall hereof should every yeare bee celebra­ted. The first of two evills which forthwith ensued unto the Eng­lish was weakenesse, by reason of the death of so many of their vali­ant men; the which, though by them denied, amounted to the num­ber of 8000. as the French doe write, as I doe beleeve Chartiers, who judged their remainder not to exceede 4000. so as being dismembred that they might place the residue in requisite places; they wanted a flying Army, whereby they might be succoured; so as in this their first change of fortune they were peece-meale, if not totally destroy­ed; the second, that their enemies increased in all parts, and laying aside their feares, did put on as assured a confidence of helpe from hea­ven, as was the meanes despiseable and of no availe, whereby they thought God, (as hee was wont to doe in his great workes) did serve himselfe; the vulgar doe not truly observe the reason of their owne obscuritie in understanding God had made use of the Maid, if of her selfe alone, or together with the besieged, who could not long defend themselves, shee had freed the Citie; but if wee adde to her opinion (which though a phantome in it selfe) is yet of substance in the elevating of mens spirits, and which really brought her 7000. unexpected fighters over and above those of the Garrison, and those that she brought with her) we shall finde that it was not shee, but the effects of this opinion which freed them: The Maid departed in great pompe from Orleans to meet with Charles at Chinon, and being by him honorably receiv'd, she obtained from him, such reinforcements as [Page 59] she desired of him. The Court had layd aside solitarinesse by reason of the frequent concourse of Princes and great Lords; for prosperitie invites, and adversitie keepes men backe; the first thing resolved up­on was the recovery of such places as were situated upon the Loire, for occasion was not to be let slip: The overthrowing of the English was the setting up of France. For this purpose Charles named Iohn de vallois Duke of Alansonne for his Lievtenant, whilst the Bastard of Orleans beleeving to lose Iargeau, without the assistance of others was inforced to withdraw himselfe from thence, hindred by the Loire which had overflowne all the adiacent parts; but Alansonne being come to Orleans accompanied by the Count de Vendome, who was like­wise Prince of the blood, and by the Maid, he together with them went to Iargeau, the Earle of Suffolke was there with two of his bre­thren Iohn and Alexander, they made terrible assaults on three parts, so as the defendants who were but a few, flocked all to the parts assailed; so as S. Traile perceiving the walls bare where no assault was made, had not much difficulty in scaling them, nor in cutting in peeces those who fought; amongst the which Alexander was one: They tooke the Earle of Suffolk, his brother Iohn and many other prisoners, who being brought to Orleans, & the victors not agreeing in the dividing of them, they all agreed in the putting of them to death upon could bloud, spa­ring onely the Earle and his brother Avarice in hopes of their ransome outvying cruelty, they were at the same time re-inforced by 7000. men sent unto them by Charles under the cōmand of Guy de Laval, the Mari­shall Loeac his brother, Chavignes de la Towre & Vidame de Schartres; with these and their former Forces Alansonne & Vandome went to Meune, they fought for the bridge and wonne it, wherein leaving a sufficient Gar­rison, they forbore to besiege the towne till a more fit time, think­ing it requisite for them first to make themselves masters of Beaugences; Talbot this meane while tooke Laval by scaling ladders (formerly wonne by him, but which according to their naturall inclination, had afterwards set up their first masters standard) wherein though he found much riches, yet wanted hee the conquest of the Castle to make it an intire victory. Hither was Andrew de Laval, Lord of Loeac retired, not out of hopes of keeping himselfe there, for hee wanted provision; but to make a more reasonable composition, so as ingaging himselfe to pay for the ransome of himselfe and all that were there with him 25000. Crownes, remaining himselfe prisoner till such time as that summe should either be payed, or sufficient securitie given in for the payment thereof. Talbot placed a Garrison there, and went to Paris, whether assoone as hee was come he was forthwith dispatcht againe, together with the Lord Scales to the succour of Beaugences, which they were informed was besieged. Hee presented himselfe be­fore it with 4000. men, but found it so straitly begirt, as hee thought best to retire. To this siege was the Constable come, accompanied by Messieurs d'Albret, Rieux Chasteaubri and, Beaumanoir, Marshall of Bri­tanny, Montalban, S t. Giles, many others 1200. Horse, and 1500. Foot; wherewith he had so enforced Charles his Army, as that the enemie was not able to stand before them, and though the English make his [Page 60] Army to consist of betweene 22. and 23000. yet are they somewhat deceiv'd; for the French count 7000. before Iargeau (besides those who Alansonne and the Maid brought with them) 7000. who Charles sent by Guy de Laval, and 2700. which the Constable brought with him: all which as they were formerly wont to run away from the Ar­my, so did they now flock therunto; for Fortune favouring, they hour­ly multiplied, the which being perceived by the besieged, and failing in their succour they yeelded themselves, their Armes, Horses, and Baggage being saved. Belleforest sayes that for what concern'd their Baggage, they were limitted to a marke a man, and were obliged not to take Armes for the space of ten dayes against the King of France. How ever it was, the two English Captaines retreat was more unfortunate, then was their comming▪ for thinking themselves to be able to force the Tower of the bridge of Meune, and be there in safetie, they could not doe it, for they were so closely followed by the whole Campe, as that the Avantguard was at Meune, at the same time that they went from thence. They indeavoured to reco­ver Ianville, but were hindred by those who followed them, so as being come to Patay in Beausse, and surrounded by the enemy, they resolved to fight; they were furiously set upon by 1400. Horsemen chosen out of the whole Campe, to stay them by skirmishing with them, till such time as the others should come up, who were condu­cted by Messieurs de Vignolles St. Traille Tilloy, Lore, Termes and Illiers. Talbot seeing himselfe so hard beset, had given order to his men to keepe themselves firme within their sharpned staves, beleeving to be set upon by the whole body of the Army, but this unexpected num­ber of Horsemen charging upon him, there was no time to thinke thereon; the fight was come to that passe as the whole body of the Army comming up, Talbot being wounded and afterwards taken, his men had no more minde to fight nor resolution to die; some fled to Corbuille, and some to Meune. Ianville would not receive them, for they were mingled with the enemy, which pursued them closely, so as the slaughter was great and but few the prisoners, the chiefest whereof was, Talbot, Scales, Hungerford, all three Barons, and Sir Tho­mas Ramstone. Sir Iohn Falstaffe fled from this scuffle without gi­ving or receiving a blow (judging it as I thinke rashnesse to fight at disadvantage against so many in open field) who for his former acti­ons was that yeare made Knight of the Garter. The Duke of Bedford incensed at this his flight, took from him his George and Garter, which afterwards by meanes of friends and his alleadging excuses, (which were judged reasonable) were restored unto him, though against Talbots will. This brave Commanders imprisonment was of such consequence, as 'twas thought the English would never bee able to doe any thing more of moment in France, Ianville, Meunes and all other places which the English held in. Beausse yeelded up themselves, as is usuall in great losses, so as Charles did in a short time winne in these parts what he was long in loosing; for to boot with the preser­vation of Orleans (wherein the Earle of Salisbury, the principall pillar of Englands fortune was slaine) he recovered Iargeau, Baugency, Ian­ville, [Page 61] Meune and all Beausse, together with the imprisonment of Talbot the second Columne of the adverse party, all which hapned out of the beleefe, that a base woman of a doubted reputation was sent from heaven to raise the one and suppresse the other. For France was so discouraged before, as none durst take up armes to defend her, nor is this to be wondred at, for as the understanding conceives not but by the sence, so force doth not worke but through imagination weakned by feare, or strengthned by hope; so as wee must beleeve that the good effects of morall actions doe proceede first from good imagination, then from good action, for the latter depends upon the former; Notwithstanding all these conquests 'twas disputed whether Charles should bee crowned at Rheims or no; the reasons alleaged against it being all of consequence. Hee was to passe by places held by the enemie; on the one side Auxerres, Troyes, and Shallon were an obstacle to him; on the other side Laon, and Soissons, and Gastinois, Brie, Picardie, and all the Country from Loire northward, and to the Sea was in their possession. The Coronation was a meere ceremony, whereby the right unto the Crowne was neither given nor taken away. It was not a thing universally used, the use thereof derives not from the Law to make it requisite, but from necessitie (if any there be) to make the Prince thereby knowne unto the people, there was no such necessitie in Charles his case. He was a lawfull Prince by all men held lawfully to be so, he was not opposed by his own men but by strangers, and if by some of his owne, they were thereunto by feare in­forced, 'twas not of freewill; but say it had beene necessary, since Henry thought it not necessary, neither ought he to have thought it; not that the institution was to be changed (for use had so far prevailed as it was not to be alter'd without scandall) but to be changed for a time, for what is deferr'd is not absolutely taken away, especially where the de­lay proceeds from wisedome & good advice, but these reasons did not satisfie the Maid, as contrary to one of the three points for which shee was sent: for Orleans being set at liberty, his Coronation at Rheims was to follow, and the driving out of the English, to the end that her pro­phecies might be fulfilled, as indeed they all were, though not accor­ding to her sense the third: for the English were driven out, but not by her, as she threatned them in her letter; Charles was waited upon in this his voyage by all the Barons of his traine, except the Consta­ble, (whom Tremuille was not willing to bee troubled withall) and Count Pedriac, who by being friend to the Constable was by Tre­muille opposed; yet for feare least being discontent they might un­dertake some ill businesse, their denyall was honested, by giving com­mission to the former to guard the frontiers of Normandy, and by na­ming the other Lievtenant of Guienne, to the end that being thus par­ted, theirforces might not have communion together. The which being by them well knowne, they accepted these charges with like dissimulation as they were conferred upon him. Dupleix notwith­standing contrary to the opinion of the rest, will have the Constable to goe along with him. Charles his Army consisted of 12000. men wherewith he arriv'd at Auxerres; the English say that those Cities [Page 62] demanded day for the surrendring of them selves, if in the meane while they should not bee succour'd and they obtain'd it. But the French accuse Tremuille, for that being brided, hee made Charles passe on without troubling them. Saint Florentine did readily yeeld. At Trois, they found some difficulty, for they wanted things necessary to take it by force, so as the greatest part councelled to retire, but the Maid (according to Belleforest) promissing to take it within two dayes set the Nobility it selfe a worke in making platformes, forts, and trenches, as if all things were ready to force the Towne, where­upon for meere feare they surrendred themselves. The English say, it was besieged 12. dayes; and that Sr. Philip Hall, who had the com­mand thereof, wanting both men and victualls, and not hoping for succour, compounded for the safe departure of himselfe and garrison with all their baggadge. the Garrisons of Shallon and Rheims inforced by the Inhabitants came forth upon the like conditions, the Cities yeelding themselves up to Charles, who made his solemne entry into Rheims, and was crowned there. I set not downe the Ceremonies as not requisite to our story; but I will say, that as coronation is a use­lesse and vaine ceremony in Kings, who have no competitors, so is it more then requisite for one that hath competitors, as it hapned here, for people judge not things as they are, but as they appeare. Charles was no sooner crowned but Men and Cities hasted to doe him homage, as if that action had indowed him with right and justice, which before hee wanted. Auxerres not being succoured within the limited time sent him its keyes. Laon did by Deputies doe obeissance to him, as hee went from thence Soissons, Chasteau-Thierre, and Province, yeelded to him, whereupon the Duke of Bedford thinking, that this torrent could not bee withstood, but by a field battle came forth of Paris with 10000. English, and some few Norman troopes. When hee was come to Brie, hee writ by a Herauld to Charles, that his pre­tensions (which had caused so great mortality and mischiefe to the people) being contrary to all lawes especially to the agreement made betweene Henry the fifth and Charles the sixth, and the Kingdome of France; hee was came out of Paris to prove them unjust, that there­fore, if hee would chuse the place, hee was ready to give him battle where ever it were. Charles accepted the invitation at least seemed so to doe, the Armies presented themselves in sight one of the other neare to Senlis, they stayed there the space of two dayes and two nights, making onely some little skirmishes, each indeavouring to get the advantage over the other; but the English having secured themselves behind that they might not bee surprised (for Charles was by much the greater number especially in horse) and the French not willing to venture upon one battle what they had wonne, and what they had to winne by the devotion of sueh as dayly came over to them, and the Maide councelling sometimes to fight, sometimes otherwise, they retreated face to face, and Bedford return'd to Paris doubting the Citizens loyaltie. This retreat is diversly reported by Authours, this which I haue said, is according to Monstrelot. The English affirme, that Charles retreated by night, as not willing to [Page 63] hazard a battle, nor yet willing to tarry longer, for feare of incurring the name of Coward. Belleforest, on the other side sayes, that Bedford did not passe Melune, where examining the turne of the wheele, hee resolved like a wise Prince not to wrestle against fortune, leaving Charles Master of the field, Giles brings him to Brie neare to the Towne called Motta de Nangis, where hearing, that the King expected him, hee durst goe no further, but fled away with his Army to Paris. Hallian encamps him so much to the advantage, as that the King was advised not to fight with him, and that therefore the next day, hee returned to Paris. Chesnes having registred the long letter of defiance sent by Bedford to Charles, addes, but as such letters were fuller of bravadoes and passion, then of desire to fight, so the Duke of Bedford being come neare to Charles not farre from Senlis, durst not give him battle, but shamefully sounded a retreat, which afforded the King leasure to lead his Army towards Champagnia: these foure Authours are of foure severall opinions in this history. The first will not have Bedford passe Melune, the second brings him to Brie, the one making him wise, the other a Coward; the third making him wise by well in­trenching himselfe, whereupon he was advised to retire: the fourth brings him neare to Charles, but arming him with Thraso's Army makes him a braggard and runne-away. Dupleix confronts the two Armies with an opinion of fighting, though some skirmishes onely insued, wherein about 300. of both sides were slaine. Hee sayes, that the English intrench't themselves to much to the advantage against the French-horse, that the Councell and Iane her selfe advised not to set upon them, whilest they the meane while were sure not to stirre forth for feare of being fought withall: that the English say, Charles retired by night for feare of being inforced to fight, where on the contrary side it was likelier, that it was not hee, who formerly forbore to fight be­cause he went with banners displayd directly towards Paris, where the English might advantagiously have given him battle, all the Country thereabouts being at their command; to witnesse what he sayes; hee in the Margent cites Monstrelet, and Chartier; Monstrelet sayes, they did skirmish; but not, that the English durst not come forth of their tren­ches, for they could not otherwise skirmish. Hee adds, that they were so well intrench't, as that they could not bee set upon behinde, the French exceeding by much the enemy in number. A particular whereof Dupleix speaketh not, then if Bedford merit blame for ha­ving secur'd himselfe backewards, to the great disadvantage of those, that should fight with him; what doth Charles deserve, who with so much a greater number durst not confront him, whilest unintrench'd, hee stood ready to receiue him; so as it was not cowardise in the one, not to permit all aduantages to the adversary, so not to fight because all were not permitted him, was no signe of much valour in the other. Monstrelet doth not say, that Iane advised not to set upon the ene­my, but that shee was various in her opinion, advising sometimes to fight, sometimes not: a witnesse rather, that shee was any thing els, then what by his owne testimony shee was reputed. But I wonder at nothing more, then that Dupleix should quote Chartier, who writes [Page 64] all things contrary to what hee sayes, Chartier brings the two Armies face to face within the shoote of a Culverin, for one whole day to­gether, without either hedge or thorne betweene them, that is, any thing whereby to fortifie them, or to detaine them; they not having according to his account sufficient time to fortifie themselves. Hee sayes Charles was the first that left the field, and then Bedford. Charles that very night went to Crespus, and the next night to Compaignes, where hee sayes, hee stayed 8. dayes; if Charles went first away, Bed­ford fled not: that hee departed by night is more likely by the English Histories, which affirme hee did so to shun fighting; then the likely­hoods affirmed by Dupleix, grounded upon his fained voyage to Paris, which none other writes off; Chesnes and Chartier say plainely, that hee went to Compaignes, where if hee tarryed 8. dayes, Bedford could not with advantage give him battle in a Country which was at his command and disposall, as hee would have it.

My opinion (amongst the diversity of so many which, if they could bee credited should bee conformable) is, that the Duke, if Charles had not gone his wayes, would have fought though upon whatsoever disaduantage. For the English covet battle at all times, and in all warres, as well forraine as civill they are by nature firme to their resolves as are their cockes and dogs, which suddenly fall to, and give not over but by death or want of breath: but say, this was not the reason which eggd them on to battle, since that the French forces increas'd by temporising and theirs decreased; Charles on the other side had no reason to fight, least by an irrationall hazard, hee might breake the course of his victory, one battle being able to ruinate him: so as holding fortune in his fist; by pursuing her, hee had no reason to give her occasion to forsake him by tempting her too much.

The Duke of Bedford seeing that the state of affaires required briske resolutions, writ to his Brother, desiring to use all meanes possible to send him over some Souldiers, for without speedy helpe his af­faires in France were in great danger. These Letters came unto the King, just as the Cardinall of Winchester was at Dover ready to passe o­ver into Bohemia with 4000. men. The Hussites had much troubled that Kingdome not without danger, of infecting the Neighboring Countries with their opinions, the which Martin the fifth, being willing to withstand; hee did (together with other remedies) nomi­nate the Cardinall of Winchester his Legate in this Warre, and that by comming arm'd, hee might not bee despis'd, hee gave him power to raise the tenth part of all the Ecclesiasticall livings in England to make thereby a leavy of souldiers. The busines being propounded in Parliament, and approved of, by meanes of the said moneyes these 4000. men were raysed.

The Duke of Glocester, who could not make so suddaine provision of men, intreated the Cardinall to assist the busines of France by transporting those souldiers to the Regent, and that when hee should see those affaires out of danger, hee might goe on his journey. The Cardinall obeyed him though unwillingly, mov'd [Page 65] thereunto out of consideration, that if any disaster should be fall the Kings businesse, the fault might be laid on him. The Regent re-infor­ced by these men, came forth againe into the field, continuing his resolution of fighting with the enemy, who being incamped between Baron and Monpillier, he incampt himselfe betweene Baron and Selins where many skirmishes were made; but Charles not willing to set up­on him in his owne Campe, though he were by much the greater num­ber; nor the Regent to expose himselfe to all disadvantages, they both retired, the Cardinall taking his way towards Bohemia, where having had ill fortune, he returned home with little honour; and Cardinall Guilian was sent in his place.

Henry was now entred into the eighth yeare of his raigne, and the ninth of his age, not having beene till then crowned; so as on the sixt of November this solemnity was with much pompe celebrated at West­minster, with all such demonstrations of joy, as upon like occasions are usually made both publiquely and privately. Charles this meane while being free from the incounter with Bedford, received as hee pas­sed by such Cities as surrendred themselves, amongst which Campaigne and Senlis; but thinking this successe not sufficient unlesse hee could totally sever Philip from the enemy; hee resolved to send Embassa­dours to him, who excusing the death of his Father, might shew unto him how misbecomming a thing it was for a Prince of his qualitie, so blamefully to joyne with those who did oppugne the house royall, the Country and Kingdome, to the which hee, or such as should de­scend from him might sometimes aspire, if Fortune should throw the succession upon him, offering him what conditions hee pleased, and such as were never to be effected. But Philip keeping himselfe upon generalls, neither giving hopes, nor taking them quite away, and demanding such things as were not to bee granted him, reserved himselfe to his best advantage, for being courted by both sides, he was sure that without him neither of them could prevaile. This meane while Beaunois and Omale being come over to Charles, the Regent fearing yet worse, went to Normandy, the Province, which though all the rest were lost was chiefly to be preserved, as being the Patrimony of the Crowne of England, and the most convenient for it of all the rest; leaving Lovis of Luxemburg Bishop of Ierouanne, who by Henries meanes enjoyed the office of Chancellorship of France in Paris, with 2000 English under good Commanders. Charles would not not lose the opportunity of this absence, to try whether fortune would favour him in the atchieving of that City. S. Denis yeelded it selfe up unto him without resistance, so as his men began to scowre the country even to underneath the walls of Paris; and the chiefest of his Army be­ing lodged at La Chapelle, they levell'd their Artillerie against the gate Saint Honore and tooke the Bulwarke thereof; whereupon the Maid throwing her selfe into the ditch, and resolute, contrary to the ad­vice of Alansonne and all the rest, to give an assault (he pretended re­velation, having not revealed unto her the depth of the ditch, and the water therein) she was wounded in her leg; the which not abating her violence, but she still persisting in causing where withall to be brought [Page 66] to fill it up, she had there beene taken had not a servant of the Duke of Alansonnes withdrawne her from thence; so as force proving vaine, many brave souldiers being there slaine, and the Bulwarke abandoned, they wholly forsooke the enterprise. Charles tooke his way from Touraine by Berry, being not naturally inclin'd to businesses, but ra­ther to the trimming up of gardens, as usually are the lovers of idle­nesse; an humour which though it be allowable in men who have not much to doe, yet is it harmefull in Princes, whose art it is to give lawes to peace, to governe their people with honour, to pardon the hum­ble, and punish the proud. The Regent understanding the danger that Paris was in, made hast thither; he thanked the Citie for the loy­altie they had shewed upon this occasion, promising whatsoever might be expected from a moderate government, and from a King who loved nothing more then the preservation and content of his people: Philip was not long in comming thither, who after having trea­ted with him of what was to be done, after a short stay departed lea­ving him to the recovery of Saint Denis, and the adjacent places; whilst the Bastard of Orleans layd siege to the Castle of Turcis, which being very strong both by scituation and art; held out six moneths, at the end whereof it yeeded; the Souldiers lives being saved, and the Castle wholly demolished. At this very time Sir Thomas Tirill had with 400. Souldiers, much damnified the county of Cleremont, the Count thereof resolute to chastise his boldnesse, drew out the Gar­risons from thence and the neighbouring places, and chasing him therewithall, overtooke him about Beauvois, in so narrow a passage, as his Horsemen could not make use of their Horses, they therefore quitted them, and fiercely set upon him; the bickering lasted a good while without knowledge which side had the better, till such time as the English bowes decided it, the Count saved himselfe, for which he owes thankes to his Horses heeles; of the rest 300. were slaine and 200. taken prisoners, with whom Sir Thomas returned to Grovay, the place of his Garrison. Omale had a little before yeelded unto Charles as hath beene sayd, Mounsieur de Ramburres remaining Governour thereof; the Earle of Suffolke besieged it and after 25. assaults, the Towne not being able to doe any more, surrendred it selfe, the Earle caused 30. of the chiefest of them to be hang'd on the Walls as falsi­fiers of their faith, and perjur'd to Henry; he fined the rest, and sent Mounsieur de Rambourres into England, who six yeares after recovered his lost liberty by exchange. On the other side Laval which Talbot had taken the yeare before, was retaken by the French, who lay in am­bush all night neare unto a Mill, and following the Millers advice who they had corrupted, they entred the towne at the opening of the gates, putting all the English they found there to the sword, save some few who saved themselves by throwing themselves from the top of the Walls. La Hire did likewise surprise Louviers, making rich booty, taking many prisoners, and swearing the inhabitants to bee loyall to Charles; for all this change of Fortune Philip forbore not to thinke of Feasts and jollities, for being widdower to two barren wives, he married Isabel daughter to Iohn King of Castile, and Philip [Page 63] of Lancaster, Sister to Henry the fourth, Grandfather to the present King; in honour of that marriage he instituted the order of the fleece, the which together with the succession of the Low countries in the Crowne of Spaine, is at this day one of the noblest, and most singu­lar signes of favour which those Kings use to conferre; the solem­nities being ended, he went to Gournay accepting the offer of Tristen de Magvelliers (who was Governor thereof) to surrender it selfe the first of August in case it were not before that time succoured: from thence he past to Soisi which yeelded unto him; the lives and livelihoods granted to as many as were there, and demolishing it to the very ground, he went from thence to Soisons, which the French say was sold unto him by a Captaine of Picardy who commanded there, so as having freed the way from his owne dominions to Compaignes he layd siege thereunto. Compaignes was provided with men muni­tion and victualls for a long time, so as the Burgonians not hoping to take it but by the length of time and much danger, having planted their battery, they there made Forts and Trenches for their owne safeties, and to necessitate the besieged: The Earles of Arundel and Suffolke increased the Campe by 2000. English, and the Maid the Gar­rison by 500. Souldiers which shee brought thither from Laignes. William de Havie was Governour of the place, a valiant Gentleman, who failed not to keepe the besiegers in exercise. Soone after his arrival the Maid came with intention of making herselfe Master of the Castle of Mounsieur de Bawde, who was then absent, and gone to Marigny in the service of Philip, but being overdone by those who flocked thi­ther to oppose her, it behoved her to give over the attempt, whilst her men entred into the Citie entring thereinto tumultuously, by reason of the straightnesse of the barres, which the keepers durst not take away, least the enemy might enter in along with them; shee was one of the last that came thither, entertaining those who pursu­ed her, and affording time to the rest to save themselves; but her upper garment being seazed upon by a Horseman, and shee pul'd from her horse, she was maugre with those which would have de­fended her, taken prisoner. An opinion is held that the barres were shut upon her out of malice; some of the Captaines, particularly William de Havy, not well induring that the glory of all that was done should be ascribed to her; but how ever it was, shee was led to Marignes, and from thence to Roan, where being strictly imprisoned her processe was made, duly suffering (had she not deserv'd punish­ment for any thing else) for having not long before with too much crueltie, and upon cold bloud put to death Franchetto d'Arras, a va­laint Burgonian, whilst she should have treated him like a Prisoner of Warre, as the French exclaime she ought to have beene treated, but being transported by womanish anger (for that he in an incounter had long, and valiantly resisted her, causing her send for helpe to Laignes, and the Circumvoysive Garrisons, without which she had not been able to overcome him, though much the greater in number) she caused his head to be taken of, so as in her is seene accomplished what is said by the Evangelist, the like measure being measured [Page 68] forth to her as shee measured forth to others; wee will in due place relate the rest, she not being put to death till some time after. The Regent to boote with the former had sent to Philip the Earle of Hun­tington, Sir Iohn Robsert and a thousand Archers, so as that place was not likely long to have subsisted had not the newes of the Duke of Brabants death inforced him to goe from thence to take order for that state, which by inheritance fell to him. Hee left Iohn of Lux­enburgh his Lieutenant, a poorely spirited man, and who the more discourag'd by reason of the Forces which Philip carryed away with him, did forth with doubt the enterprise. Hee imparted his reso­lution of quitting the siege to the English, honesting it by the incom­modities of winter, and by remitting it till the Spring; they disswa­ded him, shewing him how shamefull a thing it was to forsake it now that the Campe was so situated, as that the Towne could not be succoured, and those within the Towne reduc'd to the point of being within a few dayes famished, but no reason could prevaile with him. He by all meanes would be gone. The English went to Normandy, and hee having set on fire all his hutches went his wayes, leaving be­hind him many peeces of Artillery wanting wherewithall to carry them away, 'twas thought that the besieged could not have held out above ten dayes, the plague and famine having begun to make ha­vocke of them.

Fortune did for the most part after this retreate from upon the English, so as perceiving themselves to decline, they thought that the same meanes which had raysed up Charles might doe the like to Henry; and that by comming into France to bee crowned hee might confirme those of his party in their obedience, and might reduce those thereunto who were now farre from it; but examples cannot be equall where circumstances are unequall: If Charles his co­ronation drew unto him both Cities and men, 'twas because hee formerly had their hearts. 'Twas otherwise with Henry, for though he were of amiable yeares and customes, yet being a stranger he was not to promise himselfe that beyond nature, which Charles by na­ture had so easily come by. The difference of the Climate where he was borne did subvert these effects in him which conformity had made happy in his enemies advantages the 27. of Aprill he tooke Sea at Dover, and landed the same day at Calis attended on by a great many of Lords and Souldiers, from whence hee past to Roan, where hee was received by the inhabitants with great signes of joy.

The Maid being tane prisoner, wee left the pursuite of her story to end the siedge of Compaigne; wee will now make a short relation of her processe and sentence. The University of Paris was her first accuser. They writ to Henry, desiring him, that shee might bee de­livered over into the Ecclesiasticall Courts, for that shee had beene a cause of much scandall amongst the people to the prejudice of Re­ligion, and of the Catholique Faith; shee was delivered over to the Bishop of Beauvois, and the Inquisitor, being taken in the former Diocesse; shee was examined upon 78. articles, some of which were. [Page 69] Her change of Womans apparell for mans. Ruines and Manslaugh­ters partly committed by her, partly by her directions, that shee had seduced the people, by making them beleeve, shee was sent from God. The falshood of her revelations, that shee was a Sor­ceresse, a Witch, a foreteller of things to come, that shee had disswa­ded Charles from peace with England; that shee had boasted herselfe to know things to come: that shee had said, the Saints that convers'd with her, had beene seene by the King; the Duke of Bourbon and two or three Lords more. That shee had so seduced the people, as that many abused by her hypocrisie and fained devotion worshipped her as a Saint. To these and the rest, in some shee gave becomming answers; in others very foolish ones. Giles one of her chiefest ad­vocates, sayes, these underwritten words. ‘For my owne part I intend not totally to take from any one, the judgement of visions, wherein this Maid hath shew'd her selfe too superstitious. I am clearly of opinion, that shee never was a whore, nor vagabond, as some have deciphered her to bee. I likewise thinke, that hee ha­ving rais'd the siege of Orleans, and brought the King to bee crow­ned, was not done by the Divels meanes, but if there were any folly or lightnesse in her answers to her interrogations, it should bee ascribed to the weakenesse of her sexe, and the confusion of her mind, caused by her miseries and imprisonment, the like I say of her boldnesse, which was somewhat more, then became Christian humility.’

The words of a man of integrity, though said, that hee might not faile in his judgement, and for that they could not bee denied: for amongst the rest of her vanities, being asked by what name those who spoke unto her in vision did call her; shee answered, that after the siedge of Orleans they called her the Maid Iane, daughter of God, as if the freeing of Orleans her pretended worke had made her worthy of that name. But Giles leaving the judgement of visions at liberty, seemes not to approve, that which hee defends: for visions, not ho­nesty makes her what shee affirmes her selfe to bee, and as touching her honesty; though it bee a bad signe, that her owne writers have doubted it, yet will not I dispute it, onely in as much as unchastity admits not the favour of divine mission, which is the ground worke of the controversie. Antient Idolaters give us Pithia, and the Sybils Virgins; nature shewing us, that divinity is an enemy to pollution, as for the freeing of Orleans, and crowning of the King: I doe not, onely thinke them, but all her other actions to bee done without the Divels meanes for it appeares not to me, that she knew what the Di­vell was. I with Polidorus praise her as parallell to Cloelia since it so pleaseth him; but not as parallell to her in her actions. Cloelia fought not, fained not, did no harme to any: the Maid did hurt, and as much unto her selfe as others. I doe not praise her with Tillet, who doth paragonise her to Deborah, Iael, and Iudith. I doe not liken herto them, nor yet the English and the French to the Canaanites and Israelites. Israel was a chosen faithfull people, the Canaanites Ido­laters and reprobates; The English and French both Christians. Of [Page 70] the latter two let me bee permitted to say, that Iael violated the lawes of Hospitality and friendship, neither did shee doe it by the commandement of God so as her act may bee authorised. Iudith deserveth praise for an act more generous then just: Justice admits not of flattery deceit lies, first to cousen, and then to assasinate the enemy, shee is praised for the good that ensued thereupon; Her action being the more Heroique as done against an infidell by the hand of a Woman, and in the service of her Country, for the which all actions seeme lawfull though they bee not so: deceit is vulgarly accounted lawfull against the enemy, the which whether it bee to bee approved of or no in Christian religion, I leave to bee decided by divines, whilest in the meere respect of vertue, the Gentles teach us the con­trary. The Athenians rejected the advantagious record of Themisto­cles, because it was (according to Aristides) as much unjust as usefull. But let us grant what paralell you please unto the Maid. If shee had proceeded in this busines like Cloelia, without any fiction, out of much zeale to her Country no praise had beene too great for her, but Hy­pocrisie (without the which shee could not compasse her end) can­cell'd all worth, leaving onely so much shadow thereof, as may be­come a bold resolution; and moreover that Cloelian worth vanished in her, when swearing that shee never dream't of, shee confest her selfe guilty, when shee was not, that shee might not die; and being sentenc'd to bee burnt, shee said then shee was with childe to pro­long her end; signes of a Spirit inconstant in sanctimony and vertue, the which if at any time they entred into her, it was not as into their owne house, but as into a lodging or inne by way of passage. Her first sentence was perpetuall imprisonment with bread and water, abjuring the evils committed, and the opinions contrary to the holy sense of Religion; the evils committed, not submitted to abjuration but to repentance, and her opinions contrary to the holy sense of Scripture as voyd, asignorant; unlesse, by opinions they understand her impostures and lyes, in affirming herselfe to bee sent from Hea­ven, and to have talked with the Saints. Vanity which causing her to repent, her repentance made her to bee thought relapsed, and to bee reassigned over to the secular power, which condemn'd her to bee burnt; whereupon affirming her selfe to bee with child, and her punishment deferr'd for nine monthes; shee not being brought to bed; nor proving with childe, shee was the next yeare 1431. in the month of May burnt in the market-place of Roan, where at this day stands Saint Michels Church, and where her ashes were by the wind dispers't. Belleforest relates one of the two miracles which you may read in the underwritten verses of Valeran Varan.

POstremo enituit pietas in morte Puellae,
In cinerem cunctos dum flamma resolveret artus;
Illaesus cor habet ve [...]as (mirabile dictu)
Nec sinceri animi temerant incendia sedem.
Albaque tunc vita est igni prodire columba
Et petere Aethereos multis spectantibus orbes.

[Page 71] But saying nothing of the dove; and publishing the other of her incombustible heart, hee leaves us in doubt whether Varan writ these by way of Poeticall Hyperboly, or of true Miracle; if by Hy­perboly, Belleforest should have made no mention at all thereof; if by Mi­racle, where hee alludes the one, hee ought not to have conceald the other: but say that the incombustibility were a truth, and the dove a poeticall fiction; how is it possible, that this truth should bee onely written by a Poet, and that the English should bee so obdurate as not to bee affrighted at so great a wonder? if they were both Miracles, and that the English concealed the one by stealing away her heart, they could not conceale the other, since the dove flew away to the skie, in midst of flames, and in the sight of all men; whereby her inno­cency, sanctity and martyrdome, the injustice of her judges, and the infidelity of the English, spiritually blind to so apparent a miracle might haue clearly appeared to the World. Neither would Varan have beene the onely relater hereof, for France, the whole World, and England itselfe would in despight of her selfe have confessed it: for what remaines, that the Judges who condemned her, came all to an evill end, it might bee beleeved (suppose it were so) if a death ac­cording to humane appearance happy, were an argument of a mans uprightnesse. The just would then have reason to judge themselves more then all the Judges of the World, since amongst the unjust (which are innumerable) few, or very seldome any come to apparent punishment. But I am of opinion, that according to Christian piety, it would bee safer to beleeve, that as of good men there are more mi­serable then fortunate, and of bad more fortunate then unfortunate, so God reserves to his owne good will, as well the reward as the punishment, changing the good and evill of this World; with the good and evill of the World to come; our judgements in this case, being oblique false and not belonging to us. The last argument of her innocency, the most solid and hardest of all the rest to bee an­swered, is, that 26. yeares after when the English were driven out and Charles established, shee was declared innocent by a Comissioner de­ligated from Calistus the third, but the Pope had nothing to doe here­in more then his delegation; an ordinary title upon such occasions. Princes though delegated by God are not alwayes just, neither could the Popes assigne them to that office, but upon the place where the testimonials were to bee examined: so as the Arch-Bishop of Rheims, and the Bishop of Paris Commissioners, and the Bishop of Constance, who were joyned with them are liable to the like oppositions by the English, as were the Bishop of Beauvois, and his associates by the French. These opposed, as having dependancy upon England, those as depending upon France: the witnesses of her condemnation partiall to Henry, the witnesses of her absolution partiall to Charles; shee was condemn'd by those, who had dependancy on the one, and absolv'd by those, who did depend upon the other, and yet in a case so favour'd, as that none did oppose it (where the interest of no third Person was treated off, and a Party being in question, to whom France ought so much, as also Charles his right to that kingdome declarable by the ab­lution [Page 72] of the condemned, as sent from God to this purpose) what was the reason why (according to Giles) many of those that were cited, did not appeare, if it were not either, that they would not depose against their consciences, or els were loth to offend the King by de­posing the truth? the which being well foreseene by the Commis­sioners, they failed not to adde this clause in their letters, to proceed notwithstanding the contumacy of such as being cited, would not appeare. Finally, if her innocency had beene totally clear'd by this absolution; it was impossible, that any forraine penne much lesse those of France, should have defamed her, but rather her pretended san­ctity being granted: her revelations, missionem predictions, apparitions of Spirits and blessed Soules, her Canonization was not to have beene pretermitted, which for all this was neither procured nor thought upon by any one: for say, that all these patchings were taken for things as cleare as day; her change of habite, her profession of Armes against Christians and Catholique Christians: Her cruelty, her thirst after bloud, her having served in an Inne, her fictions, hipocrisie and dishonesty (though not true) were of too scandalous suspition to suffer her to pretend to bee a Saint. Notwithstanding let her not want the praise shee did deserve. Shee was a brave and a va­liant Amazone the restorer of that Kingdome; and if shee did not drive the English from thence, as shee her selfe had vaunted, shee was if not the onely, the chiefe, or at least one of the chiefe causes why the English lost France.

They had resolved upon Henries coronation, hoping for the like good effects as upon the same occasion had ensued to his Comp [...]itor, not observing, that if this were the essentiall reason of his advance­ments, they were notwithstanding deceived: for there was a certaine place appointed for the coronation and circumstances not to bee pretermitted, nor were they omitted by Charles in what the condition of times would suffer him, that Rheimes was the place appointed for this ceremony, that the oyle brought by a dove from Saint Remigi [...] (as they write) was to bee used in the annointing of the King; and that the inclination of the people was to intervene, which Henry wanted. So as if hee had beene crown'd in Rheimes and annointed with the reputed heavenly oyle, his fortune was not thought to change, since it did not proceed from those extrinsicall actions, but from humane affections after divine providence, which is the onely cause of our good or bad fortune; and which being inscrutable is not discovered by any events, neither doth it declare unto us whether wee bee worthy of love or hatred; favours and disfavours from Heaven are by us interpreted a like beneficiall to us; for if wee repute favours a signe of Gods grace, wee account his disfavours likewise as markes of his love, since hee correcteth and chastneth those that hee loves, then since wee are certaine of nothing more then of our no [...] deser­ving of good, and of our meriting of evill, wee ought not to grow proud in prosperity, nor to bee cast downe by adversity, but to re­ceive scourges with hope, and good fortune with feare, since wee know not what may thereby happen unto us, the which wee see [Page 73] in Charles for being freed from his forraigne enemies, the enmitie of his sonne threw him into an abysse of so many jealousies and suspi­tions, as they brought him to die a death which no Prince ever did; so as it rests in doubt whether his favours were divine graces, or ra­ther meanes to bring him to a miserable end; but however it was Hen­ry went from Roan towards Paris in November, followed by a great many Princes and Lords, English, French and Gascons; the chiefe of the English were the two Cardinalls, of Winchester and Yorke; the Dukes of Bedford, Yorke and Norfolke, the Earles of Warwicke, Salis­bury, Oxford, Huntington, Ormond, Mortaigne and Suffolke. Of French the Duke of Burgony, Lewis de Luxenburg, Cardinall and Chancellour of the Kingdome; the Bishops of Beauvois and Noyon, first Peeres of France: the Bishop of Paris and others after him. Of Gascons Count Longuerville, Count de March; Count Vademont of Lorraine and many others: He was received and met with great pompe, no expences spa­red for the solemnization. He was crowned in the Church of Nostre-Dame on the seventeenth day of October, the Cardinall of Winchester set­ting the Crowne upon his head, whereat the Bishop of Paris was much distasted, thinking that office had belonged to him, to whom the Church and Diocesse did belong; hee returned with a Crowne on his head and a Scepter in his hand, another Crowne and Scepter being borne before him, in signification of the Kingdome of Eng­land. Chesnes sets downe the particularities which I omit, as not re­quisite to our story.

The businesse of War did not in this meane while lye idle, but was pursued by both factions, with alternate Fortune; some good suc­cesse this side had, and some of no great consequence. Francis Suri­a [...]es called L' Aragonesa, suprised Montargis, getting that by some little money, which those who had attempted it before him, could not get by force. Hee with 2000. Crownes corrupted a woman belong­ing to Mounsieur de Villiers Captaine of the Towne, by whose meanes he made himselfe master thereof, and though not long after the towne was re-taken by Messieurs de Graville, and de Vitry, yet not being able after a siege of five or six weekes, to take the Castle they went their wayes, leaving the towne to 'its former possessors, who re­fortifying it, held it, till with it they lost all that they held therea­bouts. Mounsieur de Bousac Admirall of France being come to Beauvois, with intention to make some impression in Normandy, was crost there­in by the Earle of Arundell, who lying in ambush with 2300. men neare to the Castle, and having sent a choice troope of Horse even to the Palisadoes, to set upon him behind; they were by him set upon with as much violence as diligence, they retired making him be­leeve that he had wonne the day, but falling into the snare, and be­ing after a long and gallant conflict defeated, he with some few saved himselfe; amongst many others Saint Raigle was taken prisoner, who was afterwards changed for Talbot.

Renatus of Aniou, brother to Lovys the third Duke of Aniou, Count de Province, and who by his pretensions to the Kingdome of Naples intitled himselfe King of Sicilie, injoy'd the Dutchy of Aniou, as Hus­band [Page 74] to Isabel daughter to Charles the first Duke of Lorraine. Anthony Count Vademont, brother to Charles pretended to the succession there­of; alleadging that the inheritance fell not upon women, whereup­on the Warre began. Renatus was maintained by the French, Anthony by Philip and the English. Renatus besieged Vademont, Anthony went to succour it, strengthned by his assisters. Renatus leaving some to make good the siege, went couragiously to meete him; they fell to­gether at Velleamant not farre from Nauci, the English having obtain'd that the Horsemen should fight on foote, so as the Bowmen having routed the enemies Horse, they disordred all the rest, and defeated them, killing 3000. of them, and taking 200. of them prisoners: amongst the which the Bishop of Mets, and the Duke himselfe who was sent to Bracones upon Salin, a strong Castle of Philips, whereby reason of the negligence of his subjects, he was a long time captive, and delighting in drawing of pictures. He painted upon the walls of his chamber a great many wafer cakes, which in French are called Oublies, willing by that Hieroglyficke to signifie that hee was forgot­ten by his owne men; Oublier in French signifying to forget. Those who were before Vademont, understanding by those who had escaped that the battle was lost, and their Duke taken prisoner, rise from before it, fearing to be set upon by the conquerors; and leaving all they had behind them, fled away: but the besieged pursued them, slew and tooke many of them, ransackt their Campe and returned home rich. To oppose this prosperitie, the Lord Willoughby, and Matthew Gough had besieged Saint Silleri, a strong Castle in Aniou with 1500. men, Mounsieur de Lore was Governour thereof, who was at the present absent, and hearing of the danger, gathered for­ces to succour it. Chatier upon this occasion names Buil, and not Lore, and sayes that hee gave order to the Garrisons of the neighbouring Forts, particularly to those of Loval and Sable, that they should come at an appointed time, who came to the villiage called Vivain, to ex­pect him there where they were set upon: but whether of the two it were, Willoughby being by his spies advertis'd of their comming, prepared to set upon them, before that being increased they might set upon him. He gave the charge hereof to Matthew Gough, who went away by night with part of the 1500. He found them fast asleepe in a place they thought safe, without sentinells; they were wakened by slaughter, and the beating downe of their Pavillions, no safety being had but in flight, but having driven them away, they fell themselves into the like carelesnesse: for busying themselves in binding up their booty, and overtaken by the day, the light discover'd the weake­nesse of their forces, so as the fugitives re-assembling themselves, set upon them on the one side, whilst Lore comming up unto them did set upon them on the other side. Gough and Lore were both taken pri­soners, but Lore was rescued by the death of 600. English; the French name not the number of their slaine, but that about 25. or 30. were taken prisoners, and that Willoughby raysing the siege, suffered in his reer-ward by the besieged. Chartier makes no mention of Lore, as has beene sayd, nor that the English came by night, but that surpri­sing [Page 75] the French as they were at dinner, and they [...]lew and tooke as ma­ny as they pleased of them; and that Buil and Lore comming upon them they were defeated, and 1500. of them slaine. A number ab­solutely false, not so much for that the other writers mention 900. lesse, as for that the whole number whereof they were but a part ex­ceeded not 1500. But though this losse were considerable, 'twas nothing in comparison of that of Schartres, though not sealed by any English blood. Foureteene yeares were fully past since this Citie had quitted Charles his obedience to side with Burgony, never changing partie. So as the obstinacy thereof made it not to pretend remission, nor yet to hope for it by rebellion. The Garrison thereof was but small, not exceeding 120. English, who relying upon the faith of the Inhabitants, left the care of the custody of the towne to them. One who was servant to one of Charles his Financiers, was native of Schar­tres, who besides other kindred had a brother there, who wonne his living by buying and selling meate, carrying it in a Cart from one place to another, but because the Warres hindred him from traffick­ing with Orleans a Citie neare at hand, and which imported his pro­fit very much; hee intreated his brother to procure him a safe con­duct, that hee might goe and come unmolested by those of the con­trary side, having obtained the safe conduct; hee met his brother in Orleans, who offering him great rewards, perswaded him to be­tray the Citie, as hee did; for having wonne the good will of those who kept the gate, by giving them victualls as hee past too and fro, hee intreated them that being to returne on Friday morning with a load of fish, they would open the gates betime unto him, that the sunne might not spoile his ware, which they willingly promised to doe. Without that gate there was a Cellar which hee had formerly hired, under pretence of keeping his ware, wherein hee had this night hidden a hundred Souldiers, hee came with his Cart about the breake of day to the gate, calling to them to open unto him, the gate being opened, those who were hidden in the Celler entred un­expectedly with the Cart, slew the gate keepers, and made them­themselves masters of the gate, giving a signe formerly agreed upon to the Bastard of Orleans, and Mounsieur de Gaucourt, who were hard by with 3000. men, and presently came thither. The English at the first noyse hereof knew not what it was. When they heard the ene­my was within the Citie, knowing themselves to bee but weake, they saved themselves by the gate that opens upon Eureux. The chiefe of the Inhabitants (amongst which was the Bishop a great sider with Burgony) certaine to be ruined, indeavoured to die with their wea­pons in their hands. He was slaine upon the staires of his Cathedrall Church with 80. more; they tooke betweene five and six hundred prisoners, computing those of the Clergy, who were all ranso­med, the Citie was treated as wonne by conquest, their goods were taken away, their women ravisht, and those put to death that had ruled for the English. This losse was of great consequence, which being of inexorable enmitie with Charles, should have beene more carefully looked unto.

[Page 76] They indeavour'd at the same time, though not with the same successe, to surprise the Castle of Roan. The Marishall Bousac had cor­rupted one Peter Andebeefe, borne in Bearne, a Captaine in the Castle promising to give him the revenues thereof if hee would undertake the enterprise, wherein Andebeefe failed not for as much as in him lay, upon this hope came the Marishall to Beauvois with Messieurs de Fon­tinees, Movy and Ioquet, followed by 600. Souldiers, hee imparted unto them his designe, and finding them willing, hee tooke shelter in a wood, a league distant from Roan, sending a gentleman named Richarville, who presented himselfe before the Castle with 120. Souldiers, in all which Company there was not above foure or five Horses; they were all by Peter according to his promise brought in, two or three excepted, who stayed to looke to the Horses: ha­ving slaine some sentinells, they wonne almost the whole Castle, wherein was the Earle of Arundell, who fearing nothing was a sleepe in bed. The English who were in the places that were taken, were some of them slaine, the rest saving themselves by leaping over the walls into the Citie. Richerville not able with these alone to winne the whole, got on horse-backe to cause the Marshall come along with the rest, but no perswasions could suffice to perswade any of them, save some that were his friends, nay the booty (not yet wonne) being in question and not agreed upon, they returned, leaving their companions to the mercy of the sword. Richerville inraged, and knowing that by his returne, hee could not assist his owne men, but rather loose himselfe, went along with the rest to Beauvois; this meane while those who had gotten in, did what in them lay to make themselves masters of the field gate; but the English in the de­fence thereof, did so long entertaine them till the day appearing, the ruine of the one and safeguard of the others were seene. Many of the English out of the Citie entred the Castle, and together with them not a few of the Inhabitants, to shunne being thought conscious of the treason; so as the assailants were forced to retire themselves into the greatest Tower, wherein having found some victualls, they re­solved to keepe as long as the victualls lasted. But having defended themselves against innumerable assaults, the Tower being battered and damnified, they likewise having batter'd and done mischiefe by artillery, which at their entrance thereinto they drag'd after them, they were inforced after twelve dayes manfull defence to surrender themselves upon discretion. A rigorous inquisition being made 1500. Citizens were beheaded, & Peter quartered, what became of the Soul­diers that yeelded, is not reported by Monstrelet, who makes this rela­tion; but however they deserved better fortune and more faithfull associates then the Avaritious cowards who had so shamefully aban­doned them; yet doe not I beleeve that this was caused more out of cowardise then out of improvidency, not having thought time enough, upon that which they too late thought upon, to wit, that it was rashnesse to shut themselves up without victualls or munition, in a place so neare unto a great Citie, which was not likely to lacke people from so many neighbouring Garrisons; the which though [Page 77] granted I see not how they are excusable, for these considerations ought to have beene had before the exposing of so many valiant men to death; for having exposed them thereunto, they should have runne the same hazzard they did, it not beeing likely that such places wherein were abundance of victualls and munition, had not where withall to defend themselves, and live: and that if they had all entred together, they had not made themselves masters of the Castle, since the sixt part of them had almost totally wonne it. The field gate was to be by them made sure for their last refuge, Beauvois being neare at hand, and every small thing sufficient to have made them capable of an honorable capitulation, in so much as a more shamefull act of Souldiers, not having beene heard not read of, the Captaines were worthy of death and degradation, but this just and necessary disci­pline is not there to be practised, where the Princes condition is to flatter, not to command the Souldiers, and where his weakenesse in­forces him rather to cloake, then to discover delinquents.

The miseries of these warres and the mortall hatred of these two nations had beene a cause of pitty and scandall to the whole world; which thought it impossible for them to subsist after so much suffe­ring, death, and expences. England wearied with so many Subsidies (which are unwillingly granted when businesses do not fadge) suffer'd yet much more through the losse of so many brave men; one supply being the step unto another, the returne uncertaine and the losse usu­all. France the seate of misery, sceane of Tragedies, sepulcher of Armes, unmanur'd, ruthfull, impoverish'd; no lesse by the rapine of her owne men, then of enemies, made the schoole of inhumanitie: no sex, age, nor Religion being exempt from injuries and cruelty; was in so deplorable a condition, as that it was not to be succour'd but by miracle: and if by any naturall meanes, onely by peace, the which Eugenius the fourth well observing to discharge his duty, he resolved to try it. He dispatcht away the Cardinall Santa-croce about so holy a worke; he came treated, but did nothing at his first comming; both parties seemed to bee well dispos'd; their words in generall were complementall, full of honest and good intentions; but those which were in fact essentiall, were high in demands, resolute to keep what they had, and obstinate in pretensions; so as perceiving he did but loose his time (that he might not returne home and doe nothing) he concluded a Truce for six yeares, which (according as was fore­told) prov'd changeable and of short continuance, the more needfull France was of rest and quiet, the lesse prone was she to suffer it. Mon­strelet, Chesnes, and Dupleix say not, that it was made with Henry, but with Philip; Polydore, Hallian and Serres affirme it to be made with both Paulus, Aemilius, Chartier, Belleforest, and Giles doe not at all mention it.

The Cardinall of Winchester went by order from the King to al­lay some tumults raised there under pretence of Religion by two se­ditious spirits, William Mandeville and Iohn Sharpe, who indeavoured to insinuate two things into mens hearts, that the Clergy should possesse nothing, & that the lay people should by way of charity have [Page 78] all things common amongst them, a superfluous division, the last ar­ticle being sufficient; for that which was pretended from the one was indifferently demanded of all, the direct way to introduce care­lesnesse and sloth amongst the people instead of Charity, and to punish Industry, vertue and all good acts. They were severely punished, their extravagant and contagious opinions ceasing with them. The Cardinall was to returne to France with provision of Souldi­ers and mony, the truce not thought likely long to continue, where­upon a Parliament being called the Duke of Glocester tooke order for this busines, as likewise to the concluding a peace with the King of Scot­land: who being troubled with home dissentions had sent Embassadors to demand it, for it made little for his purpose to have warre abroad and at home, whilst France as he beleeved, had by meanes of this truce laid downe armes. But I wonder that Buchanan and Ascu make no men­tion at all hereof: The King and Regent were at Roan, when the Cardi­nall came thither. Consultation was had what was to be done, the souldiers expence in time of truce, as in time of war seemed superfluous to some, the wisest amongst which the three Dukes, of Bedford, Yorke & Sommerset, did not onely diswade from lessoning the Souldiers, but would have their numbers increased, to the end that if a breach should happen, as was expected they might have forces enough to end the en­terprise, or at least to make good what they had won; for the ordinary provision did not resolve the war, but did onely draw it out in length with danger of loosing what they with so much expence of blood and coyne had already won. But the appearing good of sparing prevailed over the other more essentiall one, though it was not afterwards put in execution, the regulating of companies being deferr'd till the truce was broken. The King this meane while went to Calais, & from thence to England, where he was received with great solemnity and joy.

But the Souldiers sorry to live under the Lawes of France, the Garri­son of Calais accustomed to pillage, mutinied, not alleadging the want 1432. of pillage for their cause (though it were so) but the smal nesse of their pay, not able to maintaine them; the Regent hasted thither, & put­ting foure of the most seditious to death, cashiering and banishing some, and putting others in their place, appeased the rest.

The Dutchesse his wife, sister to Philip was some moneths before dead, the onely preserver of that lukewarme intelligence, which after so many ill satisfactions remained betweene them; so as going to Terro­vane, he there married the daughter of Peter de Luxenburg; Count Saint Paul, one who was no great friend of Philips; this he did not giving Philip any account at all thereof, increasing the former distasts by the little account he seemed to make of him, since being his Ally and con­federate, he had pretermitted those offices with him, which among friends and Princes who are friends, use not upon like occasion to be pretermitted; the last occasion save one of severing him wholly from England. According to the opinion of the wisest, the truce in stead of six yeares lasted but six moneths. Charles his people deprived of their pray and accustomed to Rapine, could not live upon the ayre; the greatest and worst part of them were handicrafts men, [Page 79] and country people, who wonted to the sword, scorn'd to turne backe to the Plow, Harrow and Pick-axe. The first beginnings were pilfe­rings and robberies, from whence they came to the taking of men, and setting them to ransome; but this they did onely with the Bur­gonians, till such time as having taken free libertie, they shocked like­wise against the English. So as their insolencies causing reprisalls, and those reprisalls incounters, so as the Warre was as easily kindled a­gaine as are firebrands, which full of vapour and smoake sucke the flame unto them, the parties offended knew they could not be righted but by armes, and that all appeales, as untimely refuges would bee ri­diculous, so as interchangeably and with the liking, as I thinke of both parties, they threw themselves upon all inconveniences. The French took S. Valleri in the mouth of the River, some confining upon Norman­dy, a little distant from Abbeville, seated on the other side of the River, and with diversitie of fortune made many attempts and conquests in Aniou and Maine. Ambrogius de Lore being gone from St. Scelerin with 700. men passed over the River Orne; he went towards Caen to surprise the Faire, which was held every Saint Michaels day before S. Stevens Church in the fields; he divided his 700. he kept a 100. Crossebowmē, and 50. Horse with himselfe, with the which he placed himselfe be­tweene the Faire and Caen, to beate back those of the Garrison, if they should sally forth to hinder his designe. He sent the rest to the place of businesse which succeeded luckily unto them, for the English ignorant of what was done came not forth, and none being in the Faire but buy­ers and sellers, they found no opposition; the booty was rich, with which repassing over the Orne, he made a scrutiny of the prisoners, he detained such as were ransomable, which were 800. and suffered the rest to depart home, which were in number 2000.

The Regent seeing, that by the open breach of Truce, Laignes hindred the commerce and victualls which were brought to Paris, sent the Earle of Arundel to besiege it; hee gave him 1200. souldiers, and for his companions the Earle of Warwicks sonne, and Monsieur de Lilleadam who was Marishall of France for Henry, but little good could bee done; his forces were but few, and the place was well provided for: so as having by Canon shot broken one of the Arches of the bridge which crossed Marne, and burnt the Ravelin finding himselfe the weaker in assaults, and the number of the besieged if not more, at least as many as hee, hee raised the siedge, whereupon the Regent was forced to goe thither himselfe with 6000. men; hee for­tified himselfe in a great Parke neare unto the Walls; hee threw a bridge over the Marne. His Canon playd where it was requisite to make breaches for an assault: hee to his losse assaulted the place, which was defended by Guermede Fanculdus, and Reynald of Saint Iohn, all brave Gentlemen. Hee for all this slacked not his raine, but was re­solv'd to winne it, if not by sword, by famine on the other side. Charles knowing how much it imported, dispatcht away a succour of 6000. men with great store of victualls, under the conduct of the Bastard of Orleans. Monsieur de Rieux Marishall of France, Iohn Straigle brother to Potone, Stephen de Vignolles, surnamed la Hira, Roderigo Villandras a [Page 80] Spaniard, Monsieur de Coulant Admirall of France, and Gaucourt Gover­nour of Daupheny: these Gentlemen made a proud appearance at their first comming, the Regent kept himselfe within his fortifications, not suffering any one to goe forth; the next day, hee sent to offer them battaile, they deny it; and say that being drawne forth to skirmish many of the French were hurt, slaine, and taken prisoners: amongst the which Iohn Straigle for one, but that the besieged sallying forth, and the English fighting with them, the French set upon them behind, and defeated them, entring the Citie with victualls: and that Bedford comming forth to hinder them, the businesse was so intricate, as that the one knew not the other, in so much as the heat being very great (it was on Saint Laurence his day) many being suffocated in their armor, the Regent in all hast was glad to save himselfe within his Parke, that Gaucourt entring the Citie the next day, and the other Captaines having made a bridge of boates over Marne, they passed over into the Isle of France, and tooke many Forts there: so as the Duke fearing to loose Paris by reason of the peoples bad inclination, raised the siedge in all hast, leaving his Engines, Provisions, and Pa­villions behind him, and was pursued by the besieged who slew a great number of his men, and tooke many prisoners, returning backe to the City rich in Armes and Horses. Dupleix more then the rest, is pleased to adde unto the good or bad according to his love or hatred; sayes, that hee rise as shamefully from before Laigni, as Iohn de Luxenburg did from before Compaigne; and that being valiantly as­saulted by the Constable Richmont, hee readily passed over the River, and shut himselfe up in Paris. As for Compaigne, judgement may be made by what is to bee alledged, how equivocall and full of malice the comparison is. For the Constable no man names him but Chartier, who though a Writer that lived in those dayes, hath as some that live in these dayes his oppositors. And if hee say, that Bedford did returne to Paris, hee concludes not, that hee shut himselfe up there, for to re­turne, and to shut one selfe up are too much differing tearmes. For what remaineth I meane not to use the authority of any of the Eng­lish Authours, though with all just men, their authority ought to bee as much credited as what the French say. I alledge Monstrelet as a neuter, though by Country, language, and faction hee bee to bee re­puted French, his words are these; The Duke prepared to fight with the French who came upon him, and that hee might the better doe it, hee sent for men out of other places that were under him. Hee then sent some of his officers to signifie to the French that hee was ready to fight with them, notwithstanding all their aydes, if they would appoint a day for that purpose; To the which they made no answere, save that with the grace of God they would at their leasure, and when they should best thinke fitting, accomplish their enterprise. And afterwards describing his retreate to Paris, hee saith, hee after­wards assembled his people, and marched to where the Frenchmen were, to offer them battle once more, but their answere was as before, they had done what they came for: The English doe not deny, that hee raysed the siege, fearing least otherwise hee might lose Paris, [Page 81] but not driven away nor in flight. They say hee offered battle, which the French affirme not, nor will suffer others to affirme it, that hee continued his siege after the enemy was gone; that hee retired, not for that a fictious constable made him shamefully passe over the Marne, but because the reason of Warre would have him so to doe; that hee went to Paris to secure himselfe thereof, not to shut him­selfe up, that hee defied the enemy the second time, that hee fayled not in the duty of a good Souldier, and if hee met with evill fortune so long as it was not through cowardize (which is, that which Dupleix would insinuate) malice it selfe hath not where withall to defame him.

The ill successe of Laigni was in some sort recompensed by the retaking of Valery, which was not long before taken by the French; the opposers were Peter de Luxenburg Count de Saint Paul; & the Lord Willoughby the Defendants Messieurs de Voucourt de la Torre, and de Verseil. But after three weekes stout defence, they yeelded, their horses and baggage saved, the Towne soone after lost two thirds of her inhabitants, by reason of a contagious pestilence caused by the corruption of the victualls they had eaten. This was the last of the Count Saint Pauls actions. Hee dyed neere to Blangi, when having set downe his time to bee at the Chasteau de Monchas, and taken order for the siege of Rembarres, hee was seized upon by one of those indispositions which nature sends us, when shee pretends to claime from us what wee owe her. His obsequies were solemniz'd in the Metropolitan Cities of both the Kingdomes, as to the Duke of Bedfords Father in Law. His sonne Lewis succeeded him both in title and possessions; a yong man, not then above 15. yeares old, who growne to riper years, served for a witnesse, that cunning woven with infidelity and dissimulation, hath alwayes beene mortall: for having forsaken England, and being by Charles the eleventh created Constable, he ended his life by the Hangmans hand for having beene unfaithfull to him in his service.

The French fayled not to doe all the mischiefe they could. La Hire accompanied by many Gentlemen, and by 1500. Souldiers tooke Somme, and therein a great number of Prisoners, by whose ransoms the Souldiers did better maintaine themselves, than by their pay. Hee afterwards divided them, and sent part of them into the Country of Cambrey, where they assayled Haspre, a great concourse of people being come thither by reason of free feast.

They set upon it at unawares, and tooke some Prisoners, affor­ding leasure for such as were of better condition to save themselves within a great and strong Tower, so as having sack't the Towne, burn't the Church, and Abbey, and many Houses; they retired to Mount Saint Martin, where la Hire expected them; who having this meane while burn't Beaurevoire, and la Motta a house of pleasure, be­longing to the Countesse de Laigni being reunited to them, did in­finite mischiefe in the Countrey, not meeting with any opposition; as hee before so resaw hee should not, for Iohn de Luxenburgh Count de Laigni, and Count S. Paul his nephew, being diverted from those af­faires, [Page 82] by reason of the old Count Peter his Brother, there was none other, that could withstand him, in so much as having scoured the Champion, burnt Houses, and made great booty; hee went to Laon to divide the prey, all his men returning rich unto their Garrisons, and not one man of them lost. Paunesach a Captaine of Laon payed for these losses: for being one that did emulate or rather envy the others good fortune, hee phancied unto himselfe the like successe. Hee went towards Marle with 400. Souldiers, intending to surprize Vervins, which belonged to Giovanna de Bar, daughter in law to the above named Iohn de Luxenburg; but as soone as hee had begun to set fire on the suburbs of Marle neere unto Vervins; Iohn came up unto him, (who upon the first advertisement came, together with his nephew) with all possible speede to interrupt him, and gave him bat­tle. Monstrelet sayes, that Iohn did wonders in his owne Person, that hee alone would have beene able to have beaten the enemy, had they beene more in number, then they were. Hee slew about 160. of them, tooke 80. of them prisoners, the greatest part whereof were hang'd the next day: and to flesh his nephew, hee made him kill some of them; the which hee did with such dexterity, and tooke such delight in embruing his hands in bloud, as hee gave open testimony of his naturall bad inclination; a cruell custome, and not to bee practised. Wee are naturally too apt to doe evill, though some are of an opi­nion, that a Souldier cannot bee a perfect warrier, unlesse hee bee per­fectly cruell. Others attribute this worke to Willoughby and Kerill, sent by the Regent as soone as hee heard the French had entred the upper Burgony, that it was they that slew the 160. recovering those places to Philip, which hee had formerly lost.

At this time the Lord Talbot was returned from England with 800. men, and having taken the way of Roan to goe to Paris, hee by the way set upon Ioyng, a Castle seated betweene Beauvois and Giz [...], hee destroyed it, and hang'd up the Inhabitants. Being come to Paris, his army was increased by some troopes, commanded by the Marishall de Lilliadam, and Monsieur d'Orveille, where withall hee tooke and raised Beaumont upon the Oyse. By composition, hee recovered the City and Castle of Creil, held by Amadore de Vignelles. Pont Saint Massens, Nonaville, and Casaresse, yeelded unto him, hee tooke by force the City of Crespi in Valois, and recovered Cleremont which was formerly taken by the enemies. Hee thought to have assayed Beauvois, but finding it in a condition not to bee enforced. With so few numbers, hee re­turned with great booty to Paris. In pursuite of this good fortune, the Earle of Arundel went to besiege Bommolins, which being surren­dered, hee destroyed. Hee went to Orle in the County of Mayne, and playing upon it with his Canon, hee had it upon composition. But being gone towards Saint Selerine, Monsieur de Lore beleeving that hee came to charge him, came forth into the field, and surprized him; Giles sayes, that hee slew about 80. or 100. of his men, and made the rest runne away, being for the space of an houre Maister of the Ar­tillery, victualls and tents; but that the English making head againe, did againe charge upon them, though hee returned with 80. horse [Page 83] and many prisoners: The English say, that being set upon at unawares, they gave backe about a bow-shoot, that being encouraged by the Earle, they slew a great many of them, and enforced the rest to save themselves within the City; Disagreements which will not permit judgement to bee passed upon the businesse. And yet as it seemeth to me Giles himselfe doth explaine it, for if the French were Maisters of the artillery, baggage and tents for an houre; the permitting them to bee taken from them, makes it cleare unto us, that they who tooke them last had the advantage; the remainder resting doubtfull, whether they retreated or fled, with the booty of horses and prisoners, as Giles reports, or rather whether their onely gaine was the safegard of themselves. Hee, and Hallian doe both report that about 12000. of the English besieged the City of Louviers, wherein were the two brothers la Hire and Amadore de Vignolles, Florence d'Illiers, Ghirard de la Paliera and many others, who all did valiantly defend them­selves, but not able to withstand so great a number, they yeelded the City, and the Walles thereof were throwen downe. They name not the mayne who did command in chiefe in this great number of men, whilest in the like, and in actions of lesser consequence they o­mit not the name of any one particular Captaine, for since they would have the Earle of Arundell to bee routed, if they should name him here, they would call in question the first defeate. The English say, that it was hee who besieged Louviers, and that it was yeelded unto him without the striking of a blow, that it was in his returne to Saint Selerin, that hee had so powerfull an army; Louviers being fallen into his hands, when hee had onely his first ordinary forces. That hee besieged Saint Selerin for three Moneths together, at the end whereof hee tooke it by force, and therein tooke Monsieur de Lore's sonnes pri­soners, and slew Iohn d' Armagne, William de Saint Aubin, both of them Captaines, and 800. of the garrison; Giles and Hallian confesse the three Moneths siege, and the assault wherein the two Captaines were taken, but in stead of saying it was taken, they say it was like to bee taken, and that the besieged, not being succoured, were inforced to surrender the Towne, to receive safe conduct, and to march away on foot, not carrying any thing along with them, Chartier, Goguinus, and Dupleix say, that hee tooke it, and Serres, that hee tooke it by force; so as if the English Writers needed to proove the truth of what they say, it would bee made good by the contradiction of their ad­versaries: from hence the Earle went to the siege of Silli, which is by them related with like inequality. Giles sayes, that the captaine there­of articled to surrender up the place, in case that hee were not suc­coured, or that the Earle were not fought withall within 15. dayes, and that hereupon, hee gave him ostages. That the Duke d' Alanson, Charles d' Aniou, the Count de Richmont, the Marishall of France, Mes­sieurs de Lokhac, and Graville, who at the importunity of Monsieur de Lore had gathered a great army to succour Saint Selerin, made use thereof to succour Silly: that the English went to meete them, that the French came to a little village called Lonvell, and were onely parted from the enemy by a little River; that great skirmishes were there [Page 84] made; that finding them to bee in an advantagious place, they would not set upon them; that about evening, they sent word by a Herauld to the Earle of Arundel, that hee should either come forth to battle, or else give backe his hostages, the which being received; they depar­ted, and that the English seeing themselves free, returned too before Silli, and tooke it by a fierce assault. The rest differ not from him; but adde, that in their Articles the besieged specified, that the English should quarter themselves neere such an Elme and fight there, that whereunto the besieged were obliged (according to Giles) was, to sur­render themselves if the Towne were not succoured, or the English fought withall, neither of both which ensued. To fight belonged to the French, for they were to free the Towne: The English were to keepe from fighting if they could, and to inhibite succour; so as the French not able to do the one, should have tryed the other, which they did not. That the Earle of Arundel should give up the hostages, was a piece of obedience not to be beleeved: for since they could not fight with him, they could not force him in this point; that they should de­part having received the hostages, without putting them into Silli, or succouring the Towne, argues either simplicity (which was not likely to be in such personages) or want of strength, and is not sufficient to excuse their retreate; for say that the Earle had delivered up his hosta­ges, the more reason had they had to have kept the field, to shew them­selves masters thereof, and to have seene the enemy first gone, that they might have secured the towne: for what concernes the Elme, the besieged may by agreement prefix the day of succour, but not the place of combate; for that were to teach him what to doe who was to hinder their being succoured, whose advantage it was to work his ends without danger, or bloodshed. Two armies equally resolved to fight, may appoint a time & place that they may know where to meet, not out of any advantage; but such appointments happen not be­tweene besiegers and besieged, for the besieged have onely two things to looke unto; necessity which enforceth them, and reputation which makes them doe their utmost indeavour; which when they have satisfied; their being, or not being succoured, belongs no more to them, since by yeelding they are freed from necessity, and 'tis not likely that the besiegers together with the prolongation of time (which was much to their disadvantage) would accept of a disadvan­tagious place, whereby to be cut in peeces. But this invention is like to that of the Duke of Orleans, which hath beene spoken of, who being taken prisoner in the battell of Aincourt, where there neither was necessity, reason, nor yet time for capitulation: those who were besieged in Orleans did notwithstanding alledge, that by expresse agreement, his territories were to be exempted from the da­mage of warre, during his imprisonment, whilst no such condition complies with the nature of warre, nor can be witnessed by any pre­sident. The English say, that when the succour appeared (the terme whereof was not 15. but 30. dayes) they of their owne accord deli­vered up the hostages to those of Silli, according to their Articles; that they stood in face of the enemy, without any skirmishing, or any shew [Page 85] of battle, that the French departed by night, as if affraid: whereupon Silli surrendred it selfe according to promise without assault or blood. The Earle ended these his proceedings with the taking of Millay, and Saint Laurence de Mortiers, so as having in hostile manner succou­red the country of Mayne, hee retired, sending his men to their won­ted Garrisons.

Not long after a good part of the lower Normandy rise in insurrection against the English; a fire as easily extinguished as it was lightly kindled: They were all countrymen, inhabitants upon the coast of that sea, a Monstrous body, a beast of few armes, all head, under the conduct of the Marishall de Rochefort, Walter de Brusack, and Charles de Mares (who came with some troopes of horse to sustaine them) they tooke Diepe, Fescampe, Harfleur, Monstrevillier, Tancherville, and all the coun­try of Caux, except Arques and Candebec. But going afterwards them­selves alone towards Caen, to incourage and incite the malecontents; The Dukes of Sommerset and Yorke who commanded that Province, dispatcht away the Earle of Arundell, and the Lord Willoughby with 6000. bowmen, and 1300. horse to take order with them. The Earle who had notice which way they went, sent Willoughby with part of the troopes before, to light upon them in the way, not fearing their numbers, and hoping that the condition of an ill guided rabble, would winne him the day, as it did: for Willoughby lying in Ambush, as soone as they appeared, he set upon them, having formerly agreed upon a signe with the Earle, so as being set upon before and behind, they threw away their armes, and cryed for pardon; the Earle mo­ved to compassion, forbad the killing of them; yet could he not so rea­dily be obeyed, but that about 1000. of them were slaine. The heads of the insurrection were detained, and afterwards severely punished; the rest were suffered to returne to their owne homes, having to their cost learned the difference betweene the handling of the Mattocke and the Sword; the conquest of the forenamed places was not of long continuance after this; for the Commanders who were therein left, being of this summy multitude, behaved themselves so insolently, as that the countrey revolted from them, and by reason of their ru­stique tiranny recalled the English; so as this threatning storme was soone blowne over.

Iohn de Bressay Lievtenant to the Marshall de Rieux, had taken the Fort of Rue, a losse of great consequence to the English, the country lying thereby open to incursions; even to Estaples and Monstrolle; which caused the Duke to commit the recovery thereof to the said Earle, who with 800. men undertooke this enterprise; but being come to Gourney he altered his resolution: An old Fort called Gerberoy was sea­ted betweene Gournay and Beauvois, dismantled and ruinated a little be­fore. And because the situation thereof was convenient to suppresse the enemies incursions into the countrey of Beauvois, La Hire had order for the rebuilding of it. The Earle not thinking that in so short a space it could be in any condition of defence, for hee thought to ruinate it in the beginning of its being reedified, before that being built and fortified it might be the harder to be wonne. Hee thought [Page 86] suddenly to have dispatcht the businesse, not knowing that La Hire was there in person with a great many souldiers, so as leaving his foot behinde him, which followed him at leasure, hee advanced with his horse which were not above 500. La Hire seeing him appeare with so few horse, and those wearied, resolved to set upon him, before his bowmen should come up vnto him. And to make the Earle the more confident, hee sent forth 50. horse, as if there had beene no more in the Castle. The Earle sent Sir Ralph Standish with 100. horse to encounter them, who had hardly begun the skirmish, when the rest that were within the Castle sallyed forth, slew him and his com­panions, and without any interposition of time set upon the Earle, who, as hee was manfully fighting, was defeated by a Culverin, which being shot among the thickest of his men, swept away a great many of them, and at the second shot, broke the Earles legge above his ankle, who in a swound fell from his horse, and was taken priso­ner with Woodville and a hundred other horse. Two hundred were slaine, the rest saved themselves by flight. The Earle was carried to Beauvois, where within a few dayes hee died. His losse was as much bewayled as his valour (had hee lived) was full of expectation and hope.

Hee was the fift Earle of Arundell, of the noble house of Fitsal­len. Six others of the same succeeded him, the last of which was Henry, who dying without heires male, the Earledome and the title fell upon Philip Howard, eldest sonne to Thomas Duke of Northfolke, and Mary his wife, daughter to the said Henry. This Thomas was father to the now present Earle of Arundell, Earle Marshall of England, who married the Lady Alithea, daughter to Gilbert Lord Talbot, Earle of Shrewesbury, lineally descended from Iohn [...]ord Talbot, of whom wee have spoken in this our story. I was willing to [...]ist upon this parti­cular here, which I desire may not bee imputed to me as a superfluous digression, but rather to the gratitude which from mee and all Italy is due unto them both.

Tenne yeares were past since the battaile of Aiencourt, where and since when, the Duke of Bourbon was prisoner in England, when having payed his ransome of 18000. pounds sterlin, the very day destinied for his returne, hee was seized upon by his last infirmi­tie, which brought him to his grave, dying a free man, after having lived so long a captive.

The confederacy, friendship and affinitie of the two Couzins Bedford and Burgony, were come to the period of their dissoluti­on, not so much for the death of the ones wife, the others si­ster, as for that the distasts caused by divers passages betweene them had afforded field-roome to such as desired a breach be­tweene them, to whisper such tales in both their eares, as being supposed to be spoken in the prejudice of each other, could by nei­ther of them be taken in good part, but with a great resentment of their honours; an Idoll which amongst imaginary deities (especially be­tweene Princes) is the most supreame, though as too suspitiously false, sometimes with much losse too much idolatrised, friends enterposed [Page 87] themselves, but 'twas not sufficient; the gangren'd sores of their soules were not to be cured by Lenities. A meeting betweene them was treated of, out of hopes that by an enterview and speech together, they might come to understand one anothers minde, better then by re­ports, 'twas obtained; Saint Omers was named and agreed upon for the place. A place which belonging to Philip redounded to his honour, since Bedford went to him, not he to Bedford. Bedford came thither first, whilst Philip being in his owne dominion, and his owne house should have beene there, to have met and welcomed him. But hee was so farre from doing this, that though he came last, he pretended to be the first visited. Perhaps a just pretension in a neutrall place, hee being the last commer thither. For as for other respects which give precedency to Princes, there goes not much difficultie to the deciding of the question. Bedford had two which argue for his precedency, the one casuall and but for a time; the other borne with him, and whereof hee could not bee bereft. His regen­cy of France was that which was casuall, and therefore I build not upon it, as well for that Philip might have beene regent if hee had so pleased; (though what might have beene, gives place to what is) as likewise, for that France held it an unjust, usurped dignity; though hee ought not to esteeme it so who held Henry for King of France, for that that was borne with him, and whereof hee could not bee bereft: Bedford was the Sonne, Brother, and Uncle of a King. And tooke these prerogatives from him (superiour without question to any thing, that Philip could alledge) they were in their genealogies equall. For if Iohn King of France were great Grandfather to Philip, Edward the third King of England was the like to Bedford, and if any difference bee made betweene the Princes of the bloud in France, and the Princes of the bloud in England, (where there is no such title by Law, the former being priviledged by the pretended Salique Law, the latter not, since women doe succeede) tis a reason whereof Philip ought make no use, since that Law was by him broken, and so much the lesse against Bedford, as that if Henry should dye without heyres, hee was the next presumed heyre to the Crowne. In titles they were alike, in soveraignty and peculiar power Philip was before him. But if soveraignty were ever to precede, there are little soveraigne Lords, and no Princes, who should take place of great Princes who are no soveraigne Lords: and power which contributes advantage, doth nor contribute degrees of dignity. But let all bee granted, ci­vility will not permit the affecting of the best place in a mans owne house, but rather wils that it bee given alwayes to our equals, yea sometimes to our inferiours. To end this difference Philip propoun­ded, that the businesse might bee discust by third persons, which Bedford would not condescend unto, so as parting without the sight of one another, their friendship was broken, and all memorials of their former affinity were cancelled, wherein if the English lost all, hee got not much, for one would thinke, that in the fall of this great tree, hee should have seized upon one of the greatest boughes for him­selfe, the which if hee had not formerly done, the fault was his, since [Page 88] he by their assistance (which did divert those who might have troubled him) obtained territories else-where; to the unjust and violent possessi­on whereof (I meane Hannault, Holland, Zeland, and Frisland) he had ne­ver come (their naturall Princes being alive) if France had beene at liberty. Hee had sundry times given fast signes of this his bad incli­nation, especially when (notwithstanding the heate of warre) hee was contented, that his brother in law the Count de Richmont, should re­ceive the sword of Constableship, and that Charles de Bourbon (the now Duke, a great sider with King Charles, and an implacable enemy of the English) should marry his sister Agnis, powerfull meanes for the accommodation, which his delayes did not cut off, but deferre. Hee had thus two strings to his bow. Moreover when the councell of Basil had sent the Cardinals of Cyprus and Arles, to exhort the two Kings to peace, hee resolved to doe it himselfe alone, the forenamed Cardinals and the Archbishop of Rheims Chancellour of France for Charles, being gone to Nevers to speake with him about this, where it was resolved that the generall treaty should bee held at Arras. Likewise in the heate of this treaty the Bastard of Orleans would not have adventured to have taken Saint Denis, neither would Charles have sent him his assent from Tours, where he then was, whilst he de­siring nothing more then to pacifie Philip, had feared to displease him, and though some of Philips men went afterwards to the recovery of Saint Denis, yet it behooved him so to dissemble the businesse, but the injustice of the one doth not make good the others fault. Philip played his part excellently well, he wrought things according to his owne inclination and proper interest, and whilst hee did wrong unto others, did none unto himselfe. Bedford played his part very ill, hee followed his owne inclination, but not his interest, and walking in the path of reason, was unjust unto his King, unto himselfe, and unto the cause. His duty had beene to have contented Philip, though hee had no reason for it, dissimulation is requisite in him who pretends to raigne. All punctuallities are vaine if unusefull, and foolish if harmefull. Hee was deceived in presuming hee could doe that when he should have him his enemy, which all the while hee could not doe when he was his friend; for though whilst his friend hee helped him but a little, (being busied about his owne affaires) yet when hee turned enemy, hee harmed him sufficiently. Humane meanes are more able to doe hurt then good. Facilis descensus averni, (saith the Poet) the descent to hell is easie, the gates thereof stand wide open day and night, all the difficultie is in getting out againe. The Remora, a small Fish doth stop a ship though under full saile. Phillip being both a Remora and a Whale, could much more easily stop the course of this ship (partly interrupted before) and sinke it as hee did. A good opinion of ones owne strength if it be not matched with the undervaluing of anothers is commendable, and assists in enter­prises, but where despisall entreth, there entreth presumption which doth subvert it. If Bedford erred not in this, all the evills which did derive from thence, ensued contrary to all rules.

The Bastard of Orleans had intelligence in Saint Denis with one [Page 89] Regnauld de St. Iohn, a Gentleman borne in the Isle of France, who gave him notice how he might surprise it. Whereupon he sent Cap­taine Deinville with sufficient troopes thither, who scaled the walles by night and made himselfe master of it. A purchase of such conse­quence (as being upon the very gates of Paris) as it invited both sides, the one to keepe it, the other to recover it. The Bastard as soone as he was advertised of this, hasted thither together with the Marshall Roch­ford; but finding the Marshall Rieux there, & being certaine that the En­glish would not faile to besiege it, he left him there, & went himselfe to raise men to succour it. Monsieur de Flani, Governour of Campaigne being come up unto him, with those of the County of Valois, to divert the enemy, hee tooke Howdan, Pont de St. Mesense, and Meulan; losses which were not sufficient to fetch the English thither; who having layd siege to St. Denys, under the command of the Lord Talbot, accom­panied by Monsieur de Lilliadam and others. The Constable, the Count D [...]voise, Monsieur de Loheac, the Bastard of Bourbon, Chabannes, Illiers, Termes, La Palliere, Mascaron, Biull, who had all joyned them­selves together to this purpose, durst not set upon him; so as Mar­shall de Rieux, (after having lost Renauld de St. Iohn, who had betrayed the towne, and Dianegius de Vaucourt, who were both slaine, and those upon whom he did most rely) was inforced to yeeld up the towne, upon honorable conditions. The walls of the towne were beaten downe, unlesse it were on the side next the Abby, the Tower de Veneno being kept in its former being, under the custody of Simon de Morior, sonne to the Provost of Paris, with a proportionable number of Eng­lish Souldiers under him.

THE FIFTH BOOKE OF THE CIVILL WARRES OF ENGLAND IN THE LIFE OF HENRY THE SIXTH.

THe commonly embraced opinion, that the World growes every day worse and worse, is prooved false, in that evils have the same vicessitude amongst men, as hath the Summer and Winter amongst seasons; with this diffe­rence notwithstanding, that whereas the sea­sons of the yeare are regulated by the cer­taine course of the Sunne, to the end that wee may bee prepared to receive the benefits thereof, the course of evils is uncertaine, to the end that being taken unawares, wee may receive the mischiefe thereof: the former ordai­ned by divine providence for our conservation, the latter destined by heavens justice, for our punishment, warrs, and peace, health and diseases, turbulent and quiet Spirits, have beene in all times so, as who will examine history will finde, that there is no evill in these present times, which hath not beene in former ages; The distinction of ages ciphered forth by the difference of gold and other metals are Poc­ticall inventions, meere dreames, there is no common wealth which had not sundry times experimented this, who corrupteth good go­vernment, the Author of the golden age fals not into the lowest station of degrees, but head long tumbling from gold to lead with­out passage through the intermediums of silver and yron: Murther was found betweene the first Brothers, whilest the World was yet in it swadling clout's, rapes, whoredom's incest's, and other worser sins, did with the swiftest motion glyde into such as descended from them: they were not borne, with us wee derive them from them. Warrs, insolencies, and oppressions, did with the swiftest motion passe to the last of ages from the first, so as the World if not in substance, may yet by accident be said to be better, for being more equally divi­ded, and the wayes of offence and defence growne generall, it fals out, that the progresse of violence waxing slower, some are quiet for that they know not how to disquiet others, otherwise second Nimrods would not bee wanting to succeed the first to the prejudice [Page 92] of mortalls, the goulden age cannot bee granted, unlesse you will allow of naturall originall justice, which (at least according to holy writ) was never found in any age, for this cause was it that civill con­stitutions were invented, discipline advanced, and commerce esta­blished, to the end that people being kept in awe by the lawes, for feare of punishment, mens mindes amended by the use of arts and sciences for the love of vertue, and allured to concord by reason of the commodity of traffique: Our age might rather bee thought the age of gold then the formerly pretended; since there are no more vices now, then have beene heretofore, and the extraordinary vio­lences of those former times doe cease, ordinary ones not being to bee taken away, no more then are mens affections, for that nature cannot bee withstood, and man is in the first ranck of fierce creatures, composed of senses and inclinations little lesse then like to them: and yet more harmefull, did not reason the mother of vertue pre­vaile in some of them, and feare the moderator of vices refraine the most of them.

The Kingdome of France was by the universall consent of all, fal­len into the yron age, and England though shee had the active part, yet the subject whereon shee had to worke being hard and apt to re­sist, made her subject to repercussions, so as by doing mischiefe, shee mischieved her selfe, whilest fortune uncertaine in her winde­ings, did by apparent dangers render the event ambiguous, to fight upon an others ground, was the advantage of the one, to fight fa­voured by the people the advantage of the other, their disadvantages were equally divided, the one and the other did reciprocall dam­mages, so as the Christian looker on could not but pitty them, and fervently desire peace betweene them.

Pope Eugenius the sixth, was hee who did most of all desire this, it behooved him to endeavour it, the title of universall Father, and 1435. the affaires of Christendome enforced him to it, for Christendome could hardly evade the ruine threatned her by the Turks, who ha­ving envaded Europe in the yeare 1363. after having taken Philip­popolis Philippopo­lis, Andre­nopolis. Serviae, Bulgaria, Vallatchia. Di. Bittinia in Thracia. Di. Brusia in Andrino­poli. and Andrenopolis in a few yeares had made themselves Masters of Servia, Bulgaria, Valacchia, and little lesse then all Slavonia, and in the yeare 1412. Mahomet first having transported the regall seate from Brusia in Britinnia to Andrenopolis in Thracia conquered Macedonia and extended his empire even to the Ionique Sea: hee left it to Ammurath the first with the same designe of the conquest of Christendome a thing easily conceaved by a proude heart and not impossible to bee effected by a warlike Prince, whose power and fortune correspon­ding, it was not easily discerned whether were greater in him, and to those who apprehended the danger they were a like terrifying, whereupon the Pope not knowing how to withstand them, but by uniting the Christian Princes, hee sent the Cardinall Santa Croce to procure the agreement in the assembly, which was appointed at Arra's, the Councell assembled together at Bazill, did the like by the Cardinall Cyprus accompanied by many Prelates; England sent thither the Cardinall of Winchester, the Archbishops of Yorke, the Earles of [Page 93] Huntington and Suffolke, the Bishops of Norwich St. David and Lisieux: France the Duke of Burbone, the Constable, the Count Vandosme, the Archbishop of Rheimes, and many other of the Counsell: The Emperour, the Kings of Cyprus, Portugall, Castaile, Scicily, Na­varre, Polonia, Denmarke, and the Dukes of Brittany and Savoy, sent thither their Embassadours, though unrequested on Henries behalfe, the soveraigntie of France was demanded on Charles, that Henry should renounce the title of the King of France, and that hee should possesse Normandy, and whatsoever hee did possesse at the present in Guienne but this with homage, and under the soveraignty of Charles, and the Crowne of France; the just opposite to which each of them did pretend, so as the two Cardinalls perceiving no meanes how to agree them, nor how to make them lay downe their Armes: The English Embassadors departed, but Philip made an agreement, being come thither to that purpose, and the French with resolution of giving him content; the articles were what satisfaction Charles should give, for the death of Iohn Duke of Burgundy. They conceived words that he should say in his excuse, punishments for as many as were thereof guilty, and present banishment for the absent, either sort of them to be named by Philip, a Church to be built in Monberea, and a Charter house with annuall meanes befitting the Church and vestry, and livelihood for twelve Monkes and a superior, 50000. Alavenente 3. Crownes for the jewels that were taken away from the dead Duke, and a reservation for Philip to recover the rest which were not named, more particularly the fleece esteemed of a great value then follow­ed the articles of such places as were to be delivered up unto him, the Counties of Maseon Xaintonge in inheritance to him and those who Mascone. should descend from him, whether male or female, together with all the appurtenances thereunto belonging, jurisdictions, prerogatives, patronages by Law; nominating of offices, taxes, Magazines of salt, Impatrona­to La Castel­lania. and other things of like nature. The City of Auxerres, and the pre­cincts thereof, with all the above-said preheminences, the jurisdiction of Barr upon the Seine, together with the Citie Castell, and all there­unto belonged, the Law patronage of the Church and Abby of Luexeule; pretended unto but never possessed by the Dukes of Bur­gondy, Peronia, Mondedier, Rom, and all Cities on either side the Soane, Saint Quintine, Corbie, Amiens, Abbeville; the county of Pontian, Dourlens San Requior Creuxcore, Arleux Montague, and all the other pla­ces belonging as properly to the Crowne of France, as those preten­ded unto by the Emperour in Artois and Hamault. Charles reserving nothing to himselfe but homage and soverainty with this condition, that all that were named with Perone, and after Perone should bee un­derstood as ransomable for 400000. Crownes, which was afterwards in the time of Lewis the eleventh one of the causes of his distast with Duke Charles, who was sonne to Philip, and did succeed him: To these were added the counties of Guiennes, Bolognia, and Burgony for him and his heires male, free from fealtie, homage, or service; the like was to be understood of all the other townes of importance of the crowne, which for the present or for the time to come, were to fall to him by [Page 94] inheritance, or succession during his life, after which the soveraigntie should returne unto the King, and their subjection unto his heire, ac­cording to the severall nature of their entailers: And in case the Eng­lish should wage warre with him, Charles was obliged to assist him by sea and land, as in his owne particular cause, nor was hee to make peace with them, unlesse he therein comprehended him; and that if Charles should breake this agreement, his subjects should not bee bound to obey him, but being freed from all oathes, they should obey and serve him against Charles himselfe. Lastly, that Charles Count Caralois sonne to Philip should marry Katherine King Charles his third daughter, and have with her in portion 120000. crownes, a marri­age which was not consummated till about foure yeares after, by rea­son of both their tender yeares, for when shee died, eleven yeares after this leaving no children behind her, shee was not above eighteene yeares old. This was the rate which Charles bought Phi­lips friendship, a bargaine very advantagious to him, notwithstan­ding all 'its disadvantages, for his friendship was not to bee bought at too great a rate, since being freed from the English and his kingdome restored; his sonne Lewis recovered what hee with an opportune in­commodity had alienated, the which if the English had in any sort imitated, they had not lost France, for Philip was their onely Piller whereupon their Fabricke was to relie, but trusting more upon their owne forces then was convenient, and being more jealous of him then they ought to have beene, they seconded their hatred, whilst anger harmefull in government, for want of requisite dissimulation, causeth irreperable ruine, wherein if any one shall thinke that I con­tradict my selfe, since I have else-where beene of another opinion, he will be of another mind, if hee consider when I treated thereof, it was touching the legallity thereof, where now 'tis touching the expediency by which humane actions ought chiefly to bee regu­lated.

Philip sent a King at Armes to give an account of this peace in Eng­land, changing the wonted stile in his letter which hee sent to Henry, for whereas before he stiled the King of France and England his Lord and master, in these he termed him onely King of England, his wel­beloved Cousin. The contents thereof was, that being overcome by entreaties of the Pope, of the Fathers of the Counsell of Bazille, & of all the Princes of Christendome, hee had made peace with Charles to shun the being thought cruell and implacable, he desired him likewise to do the like, to the end he might be numbred amongst the authors of publike tranquillitie, offering to serve him therein. The Embassadour was not permitted to see the King, but sent backe without any let­ters, what could be said to the greatest enemy, was said to him by word of mouth; wherein they forbeared not to call Philip perjured traitour, and this newes being divulged in the Citie, the people not able to revenge themselves of Philip, vented their fury upon his sub­jects, who for traffique sake had their abodes in London, they slew many of them, and would have slaine them all, had not the Kings Proclamations withheld them. But those who were most rationall [Page 95] and who had not imbrued their hands in the blood of these innocents, accused by Philip of hipocrisie in that hee made a scruple to make the peace, as having sworne to obey Henry as his King, but yet did it when he had received absolution from the Legat, which was a ta­cite kind of judgement, which ought not to be made when both par­ties are not heard. An oath is not subject to absolution, if there bee nothing of evill therein, no evill was in his oath since Henry was not declared, nor was not to be declared an usurper, save by the reall evidence of a Salique Law. They did not accuse the Legats authori­tie but his act, the which though it were excusable, the end thereof being good, yet give it for granted, that the evill thereof were pardonable, in respect of the good that was thence expected, what good was there to be hoped for, whilst the Swords of such Princes were yet wreaking with blood; for France and Burgondy being accor­ded, and England excluded out of the agreement, shee was thereby endangered as inferiour in Forces, in other too lately united to her de­structions. But none understood this businesse better then Philip, nor did better make it conduce to his owne ends; for being scandalized with his fathers death, he sided with the English; violated the pre­tended salique Law, bereft Charles of his Crowne and Inheritance and gave it to England, hoping that the government should be con­ditionall in her, absolute in him; and if it be sayd, that if he had had any such designe, hee would not have refused the Regency when it was offered him. I answer that he refused it out of singular wisedome, for that being come newly to his estate, and finding the people of Flanders contumatious hee would have increased their forwardnesse by living farre from them; besides the danger that his command was likely either to cause a breach betweene him and the English, who would not be satisfied with his superioritie, or else coolenesse in the administration of succour, which would not fall out under the au­thoritie of one of their owne Princes of fortune; for that distra­cted by the regency of France, hee could not have made those accu­sations which hee did, finding himselfe afterwards deceived in his first hopes, that the English would have beene governed at his plea­sure, (Bedford having alwayes commanded by his owne particu­ler authority) and having so farre revenged himselfe of Charles as that his anger grew now to be somewhat appeased, distasted by Bedford, and growne greater else-where; hee changed his purpose, hee chose that King which hee had rejected, and rejected that King which hee had chosen: So as after the death of 300000. men who all dyed in this quarrell, after the destruction of so many Cities, hee made peace gaining thereby that which he could never have pretended to, much lesse have had from the English, one onely thing did not succeed unto him, neither did it much import him, that as by the degrading of Charles and promoting of Henry the fifth, hee added nothing to the claime of England (whose pretensions were not grounded upon such foundations) so by revoking what hee had done, and gainesaying himselfe, he brought no prejudice at all thereunto for what remaines: he was a Prince worthy of the Cognomen that was given him of God; [Page 96] if you will pardon this present affaire and that of his cosen Giacholina Countesse of Bavaria, Philip did like unto Rivers overgorged with raine, which when floods of waters cease returne to their former channell, when his desire of revenge ceased hee forsooke the English, and returned unto his owne proper nation and blood, and as hee might have done better had hee not violated his plighted faith, so if he had not plighted it, his vertue had beene the greater; but to commit errours being a thing common, since there is none that doth not doe amisse, not to out doe others in mischiefe is almost a species of ver­tue.

The Duke of Bedford dyed 7. dayes before the peace concluded by Philip, the one happening the 14. the other subscribed the 21. of September: but by him foreseene long before, I will not say, that his foreseene peace was his death; but that it was in part a cause thereof may probably bee conjectured; Generous hearts use to bee undaunted in danger, but in the change of fortune, if they bee not accumulated by adversity, they are macerated by vexation: his death is to bee numbred amongst the chiefest causes of the losse of France, hee was a wise and prudent Prince, of long experience in armes and governe­ment, inferiour to no Commander in his time, hee was obeyed by his owne, feared by his enemies, in so much as Lewis the eleventh being many yeares after in the Church of Nostre-Dame at Roan where Bed­ford is buried, and being told by some as hee was looking upon his Tombe, that that sumptuous memoriall was a great shame to France, since it had bin by him so much endamaged, that therefore it should bee defaced, and his bones throwne out, hee nobly answered, that it would bee a greater shame to France to shew her selfe cruell to his bones, who whilest hee was alive none durst oppose; that hee was sorry, that the memoriall was no more stately, and that none was to bee found answerable to so great a worth; none of the Sonnes of Henry the fourth did degenerate: a thing not usuall in so large a family. Henry the fifth dyed gloriously in the pursuite of his conquests, the Duke of Clarence valiantly fighting, and though Bedford of a naturall death, and Gloster of a violent, yet dyed they not with lesse fame then did the others: so as nature having done her utmost in them, if shee failed in the present Henry; it is not to bee wondered at, for having clade him with a rich shirt of goodnes, shee was scant unto him in an upper roabe of reall vertues, and of fortune; Bedford being dead, a new choise was made of, who should succeed him, of two that pretended thereunto the Duke of Yorke bore away the bell, whereat the Duke of Somerset was scandalized, who being the Kings cousen thought to have beene preferred before him, but the councell was of an other opinion; Yorkes true pretences unto the Crowne though at that time not spoken of, was perhaps the cause why they would not discontent him, Somerset finding no other remedy endeavoured the hindring of his dispatch to the common losses, for Paris and the chiefest places which the English held in France, were in this interm lost which would not have hapned, if hee had had his dispatch time enough. Disadvan­tages which infant Kings are usually subject unto, who governed by [Page 97] many and shared by the emulation of great ones: cannot favour pri­vate interests without disfavouring the publique to the ruine of King and Kingdome. Yorke seemed not to take notice of these pra­ctises, Parteggia­ti. a dissimulation which caused an inward impostumation in him, wherewith Somerset being afterwards infected, it in a few yeares after brought them both to immature end.

In the same month of September, Queene Isabell mother to Charles King of France, and Katharine Queene of England, dyed in Paris; shee was buried by the side of her husband in Saint Denis without any funerall pompe, the times not suting with such like solemnities, shee lived not much esteemed of by any: no not by the English which made them undergoe the imputation of ingratitude though without reason; since nature hath endued us with a secret not well understood, light which cleer's unto us all ambiguities, so as the imagined good, which is not, is, will wee, nill wee, not taken by us for good: No man denies, but that ingratitude is of all vices the most abominable, but neither is it to bee denyed that benefits sprung from charity or any other species of courtesie and love, not from ostentation or in­terest are those alone which denominate an ungratefull person: Isa­bels good turn's had their rise from selfe interest, if shee sided with the English 'twas to side against her sonne, shee favored them not as friends, but as instruments of her revenge: her daughters marriage was from the like cause, shee loved her as having beene her com­panion in her misfortunes, but tis not likely, shee would ever have sought her advantage to the injury of Charles, had shee not hated him; shee confounded the World, ruinated her Kingdome, disinherited her owne bloud: and out of dispight, not any inclination, favored the enemy; so as if the English seemed not to bee over gratefull to her, it was because her benefits were none of those which conduce to gra­titude.

The rebellion of Normandy was one of the first evill effects caused by the death of the Duke of Bedford, for seeing herselfe freed from that chaine which held her in obedience to England, shee gave her selfe up unto the French. Charles de Marest accompanied by the Ma­rishall de Rieux, Messieurs de Bousack, and Longaville, two houres before day scalled the Walles of Diepe, neere to the Gate and met with no opposition by reason of the intelligence, they held within the Towne; hee had the like successe in forcing open the Gate which leads to Roan, through which the Marishall and all his People being entered, hee made a stand in the market place, crying out according to the military custome of France, the City is taken, these acclama­tions awakened those who slept, who with stones and dartes made some short defence, but they were forced to give way to the last commers; there were but few that were slaine. The Lieutenant Mor­timer with some few others saved himselfe, the rest remained prisoners together with such Citizens, as had almost affectionately favored the English: their goods were ransackt, but not theirs who were willing to receivè the oath; upon the newes of this acquisition, Anthoni de Chabanus Sentraglie, Estouteville and many other Lords, with betweene [Page 98] three and foure thousand horse came thither, to whom one Kernier a leader of the common People followed by 6000. of the Country­people, joyned himselfe and all of them did willingly take the oath: being marched forth into the field with these and many other Gen­tlemen of the Country which daily flockt unto him, Fescan yeelded it selfe up unto him on Christmas eve, and on Saint Stephens-day, Monsieur Villiers the Gnascoigne Captain who commanded there ha­ving revolted; hee assaulted Harfluer but being beaten back and forty of his men slaine, whilest hee put himselfe in order for a second assault, the Inhabitants capitulated to surrender up the Towne, upon con­dition, that the English garrison which consisted of 400. men, should be suffered to depart peaceably with all their goods; Beccrespin Tan­charville: Gomesseule, Loges, Vallemont, Graville, Longerville, Neneville, Lambraville, and other Townes did the like. Upon this flood of for­tune, the constable Richmont arrived, to whom Carles, Mesull, Aumerle, and many other Townes yeelded themselves; all which having Garrisons put into them, he with-drew himselfe for want of victualls, the rest doing the like. So as in a short time, Normandy was dismem­bred of the greatest part of the Country of Caux; the English were not now to defend themselves against one onely enemy; The treaty at Arras as pointed out unto them, a second (viz.) Philip and though warre was not yet declared betweene them, they forbare not to be­thinke themselves how they might prejudice each other, the Garri­sons of Callais and the adjacent parts had a designe upon Ardres, and those Burgonians which were in the Country of Ponitean; upon Crotoi designes wherein they both failed. The low Countries were not well pleased with this Breach, for the losse they thereby received by want of commerce, having acquainted Philip with the importancy hereof, they prevailed so farre with him as to permit them, endea­vour the continuation of peace: Iohn of Luxenburg Count de Ligni (who had not yet revolted from the English) was thought fittest for this imployment, hee writ hereof to his Brother, the Archbishop of Roan one of Henries chiefest Counsellors in France, who writ over into England, where the proposition being entertained hee acquainted his Brother there withall, and his Brother Philip: much of hostility ensued this meane while, whereat Philip being offended, and much more that Henry had written to the Hollanders; Profering them the conti­nuance of his friendship (as if hee had done it to seduce his subjects from him) hee went from his word, and told Ligni, that hee would have no longer peace with the English, since they had much defamed him in his honour, that they had beaten his people upon the confines of Flanders, endeavoured to surprise Ardras, sent Ambassadours to the Emperour to provoke his Imperiall Majesty against him, sought to seduce his subjects, and done other things not to bee passed over without resentment, and not herewithall contended, hee writ to Henry repeating over the same things, and denouncing warre unto him; Henry writ likewise to him saying, that it was himselfe, not hee that had defamed him, by his perjury, by his violation of their con­federacy, and by his having made that peace which neither of them [Page 98] without the others consent could make, for what remaines that hee had beaten his subjects, for that he found him in a readinesse to beate his; that his offering at Ardreas was no more then what Philip had done at Crotoy, that the instructions hee had given his Embassadours, sent unto the Emperour did convince this calumny; that he had much more reason to complaine of him, who contrary to the Lawes of nations had taken the said Embassadours prisoners before any declaration of warre, that he had not seduced his vassalls as his letters could testi­fie, that he had indeavoured the continuance of the commerce which in his name was propounded unto him, and whereby advantage was to redound to both nations.

After these complaints Philip resolved to begin the warre by be­sieging Callais, a Fort which hee pretended did belong to him as a member of Artois; the which if he could take would redound much to the prejudice of the English, and much to his advantage since there­by hee should secure Flanders, Artois, Picardy, and the country about Bullen; hee had severall councells concerning this, for it was not to be undertaken without extraordinary Forces; the enterprise was dif­ficult, and not to be undertaken without sollid foundations, hee could not hope much from Charles, he was sufficiently busied for himselfe: He bethought himselfe that if the Flemmings and Hollanders his sub­jects would assist him their Forces would be sufficient: he went with this designe to Gaunt, he assembled all the Magistracy, of whom hee obtained what he desired, and when this resolution was published throughout all Flanders, in stead of being displeased thereat (as done by the private authority of those of Gaunt, without the accustomed votes of the other members of that Province) they all confirmed it, thinking the time of putting it in execution too long. They thought Callais could not resist their Forces, in imagination they had already taken it, sackt it, incorporated it into Artois, and they themselves re­turned home enricht, reputed of, and feared by all men. The Hollan­ders though not so entirely as those of Flanders, did likewise satisfie their Prince in his desire, who went himselfe in person to intreat them: So as whilst on this side, preparations are made for a new warre, the former of France grew more exasperate. La Hire who was per­swaded, he could surprise Roan by reason of the intelligence hee held therein, failing in his designe retired to Rey; a good great village to re­fresh himselfe and his men; where hee was set upon by Sir Thomas Terill and wounded, but escaped away having lost some of his men: Monsieur de Fountaines and 60. more being taken prisoners, and most of his horse lost; his horsemen who had not leasure to get on horse­backe saved themselves in the neighbouring wood: The Consta­ble met not with the like misfortune at Paris; for being certified by Monsieur Lilliadam (who had betaken himselfe to Charles his party at the same time that Philip did) That those who tooke part with Bur­gundy in that Citie would be favourable unto him, hee marched from Pontosa, accompanied by the Bastard of Orleans, Messieurs de La Roche, de Fernant and others, with 6000. Souldiers to discover what might be hoped for out of the inclination of the Inhabitants. But finding [Page 100] no alteration at his appearing (for they were kept in a we by the vi­gillancy of the rulers, and the Garrisons force) hee lodged himselfe at Mommartres, and went the next day to Saint Dennis. There was in that Towne a Garrison of 400. English, the place was void of defence, wholly dismantled, save towards the Abbies side, as hath beene said. These notwithstanding withstood a powerfull assault, wherein 200. being slaine, the rest retired themselves into the Abby and Tower, where being besieged, and without hope of succour they yeelded themselves, the English their lives saved, the French upon discretion. The Lord Beaumont was not long before come from Normandy to Pa­ris with 600. men, he resolved to march out with these (not knowing of the losse of Saint Dennis) to watch the Constables wayes, but being by him discovered and surprised, whilst hee valiantly defended himselfe he was taken prisoner, together with 80 more: 300. of his men were slaine, the rest saved themselves by flight, being pursued and beaten to under the very walls of Paris. An inconvenience which lost the Citie; for those who tooke part with Philip, expecting onely an occasion of revolt. This losse of the Lord Beaumonts who held them in awe was the happiest thing they could desire. They advertised Mon­sieur de Lilliadam hereof, desiring a generall pardon for all their past disobedience and rebellion: the which when he had communicated to the Constable, hee came before the towne with all his Forces; the chiefe of the English party besides the Lord Willoughby were the Bi­shops of Tarrovan, Liseux and Meaux: who perceiving an open insur­rection, thought to make sure St. Dennis gate, but finding the streets chained, they themselves beaten with Stones and Arrowes from the windowes, and driven from one street to another, they and their men retired themselves into the streete of Saint Antonia, where they were safe under the Cannon of the Basteile, the which they furnished with victualls and munition the best they could in so short a time. The Constable this meane while being come to the Port of Saint Iaques, Monsieur de Lillidam presenting himselfe before the walls shewed them their pardon under the great seale, perswading them to obedi­ence, and to open the gates unto the Constable, to the which they all assenting Lillidam and the Bastard of Orleans not waiting for the opening of the gates, scaled the walls and were followed by a great many Souldiers, to whom the Burgonians and a great many of the people having joyned themselves, crying peace, peace; long live King Charles, and the Duke of Burgundy, they threw open the gate, by the which the Constable entred, marching straight towards the Basteile, under the which the English had retired themselves. They made some resistance though but for a small time, their numbers not being able to withstand the great Forces of the Constable and peo­ple; so as some of them being slaine and the rest retired into the Bastaile, they were beset with Corps de Guard in such places as were least to be annoyed by the Artillery, in so much as being blockt up on all sides, this their retreate served onely for their reca­pitulation, which is no small advantage in such a case; the goods they had left in the Citie were seised on and shared; the Bishop of [Page 101] Terrovan, to boote with his other houshold implements, part of which hee afterwards recovered by the favour of Messieurs de Trenant, and Lalaigne lost the richest adornements of his Chappell; the goods of such Citizens as had sided with the enemy were confiscated; the an­tient Officers cashiered, and new ones put in their places, and the be­sieged not able to hold out, and not likely to bee succoured, after tenne dayes came forth their good and lives saved; and with a safe conduct from the Constable, retired themselves to Roan. Thus Paris re­turned to its former government, sixteene years after that the Duke of Clarence had placed a Garrison there in the behalfe of his brother Hen­ry the fifth. This and some other losses had rather madded them then mated the English. The Garrison of Callais went to Bullen, and had almost taken that part which is called the lower Bullen. But Fortresses are taken by great Forces, not great anger, having burnt many of the shipps which lay in the Haven, they passed into the precincts of Gra­velline, where destroying all the country, they gave a furious alla­rum to the common people, who having taken Armes ran to oppose them, but as it is usuall to homebred people to presume much and performe little, they were rooted, 400. of them slaine, 120. taken prisoners, the rest escaping whither they could, whilst the English leading away their pray and prisoners retired themselves to their Garrisons; on the other side some of the inhabitants of Gisores were corrupted by La Hire to permit him entry in to the City, so as com­ming with great forces from Gerbery hee entered in, and laid siege to the Castle wherein the Garrison had saved themselves, and given no­tice hereof to Roan, so as whilest the oppugners and defendors were in their chiefest heate, the Lord Talbot came thither with the Lord Scales and 1800. Souldiers werewithall he freed the Castle, reco­vered the Citie chased the enemy away, and punisht the traytors. At this time the Duke of Yorke came from England to Normandy, bringing along with him 8000. Souldiers, with which if hee had bin dispatcht away when he ought to have beene, the Country of Cauxe had not beene lost, and much lesse Paris. The Duke of Summersets envy the cause of so great losse was not punished, for that hidden mischiefes are not subject to punishments, or for that the faults of great delinquents are not without great danger taken notice of.

Monsieur de Croy, Bayliffe of Hannault had at this time gathered to­gether 1500. Souldiers under the conduct of Messieurs de Vaurin Noy­rule, Sananses, and other remarkeable commanders with intention by way of Praeludium to the siege of Callais, to runne the country round about it. The Garrisons of Callais, Guines, and other neighbouring places fall upon the same designe, who the same night were gathered together to the number of 2000. to sacke the country about Bullen, so as the Burgonians had advanced themselves but one houre sooner, they had met with their Scouts who they descryed by breake of day upon the passage over the bridge of Millay, Croy having advised what was to bee done resolved to set upon them whilst in disorder they should be pillaging the country, and though hee could not take them at unawares, yet howsoever to give them battell hee devided his [Page 102] men into two squadrons, himselfe following the English with the former, having for his guide the smoke of such houses and villages as they burnt. The English had notice of his comming from Some, who at the same time they had taken prisoners, so as having there forraging those who were nearest him united themselves together, and placed themselves upon the top of a little hill, where being by him discove­red, but not the rest that marched after, he set upon them not expe­cting the arrivall of his second Squadron, and finding them in disor­der, and but a few in number, and the first incounter he slew betweene three and fourescore of them, the rest fled to their companions and were pursued by the victorious. But when they perceived a second Troope, they made a stop, expecting the arrivall of their second Squa­dron, and wavering in their resolution of fighting, they encouraged one another, to what none of them had any minde. The English this meane while having reordered themselves, set furiously upon them; the Bickering was not long, and the formerly victorious making ve­ry little resistance were driven even to underneath the walls of Ar­dresse, the number both of slaine and prisoners did not exceede 100. for surprised by feare they betooke themselves rather to flight then fight. Decroy was wounded and his horse slaine under him, but he had the good fortune to recover another, and was more vext at the manner of his losse, then at the losse it selfe; which might be coun­terpoised by his former encounter. The victualls returned with their prisoners to Callais, and were met by the Earle of Mortaigne, sonne to the Duke of Sommerset, who was sent thither with 1500. men to op­pose Philips designes, who if hee had undertaken this enterprise with men taken into pay, and not with the common people of Flanders (who will be entreated and not commanded by their Princes) hee would either have reaped more advantage thereby, or lesser shame had he gathered together so many men, as thinking the number super­fluous he dismist the greatest part of them; the number of those who remained amounting to 40000. An Army which if considered in 'its number, richnesse of apparell, splendor of Armes, quantity of Artil­lery, Pride of Pavillions, and infinite number of Carriages, fit to con­quer a whole nation, not a single towne; but wee are deceived in no­thing more then in a good opinion wee hold of our selves. The peo­ple of Gaunt thought that the walls of Callais, ought to have fallen downe at their appearing, as did the walls of Iericho, when the Israe­lites appeared. They were troubled that the ships came no sooner from Holland, fearing least the English having the Sea open, should leave the towne empty and fly away to England; they thought that being terrible to their owne Princes at home, they should bee the like abroad to all the world, and growing insupportable by reason of this confidence they became odious to all men, before they came from Flanders, they caused two Mills belonging to two particuler men to be beaten downe; imputing the late losse of the Flemings before the Graveline to them, neither durst Philip contradict them herein, nor would they be satisfied with any reason when they had passed the water at Graveline and were entred into the enemies land, they [Page 103] pitched themselves before Oye. A small Fort the which yeelded upon discretion, the which they so indiscreetly made use of; as con­trary to all reason of warre, they forthwith caused 29. of the Garri­son to bee hanged, and 25. more afterwards, and would have served all the rest alike; had not the Duke interceeded: they burnt, defaced, and to the very foundations thereof wholly threw downe the Castle: to the end, that the Ashes thereof might shew the extent of a Plebaean power, such as appertained to Philip were not suffered to make booties, for if they made any they were forthwith taken from them, and if they resisted, beaten; being come to the Castle Saint Marck: with in sight of Callais they had it at a dearer penny-worth; for it defended it selfe and slew many of them, but not able to hold out, after having sounded the Bels and hung out collours, to bee succoured from Callais, which was impossible; it yeelded upon condition not to bee treated, as was Oye; so as 24. Souldiers (for they were no more) being led by the 24. divi­sions of Flanders to the Tents of Gaunt, they were sent prisoners to Gaunt to bee exchanged for such of theirs as were already taken or were to bee taken, those who entered the Castle having sackt it, re­turned joyfull with their pray, when at the Gate they found some of the chiefe of Gaunt who tooke it from them, saying they did it by the direction of the Magistrate of Gaunt, but this not being true, they who had converted the spoiles of others to their owne use were banished, which caused so great an alteration as they had well nigh gone together by the Eares, justice not having sufficient force against the uniust power tyrannically usurped by the armed avarice of the most feared.

At last, Callais was by them beguirt, and Philip lodged towards the Sea side; divers skirmishes were there made, the English sallying forth, that those of Gaunt might bee deceived in their flight, many were wounded, many were slaine on both sides; amongst the woun­ded, La Hira made one, who being come to visite the Duke drawne thereunto by the name of so glorious an army, was shot in the leg, and Philip whilest hee went about to spie the scituation of the Castle, a Canon shot slew his trumpeter and three horses, which were nee­rest unto him, upon one of the which was Monsieur de Savances. Mon­strelet describing this siedge, praiseth the valour of the Piccards; but Il trombet­ta. as for the Dutch hee saith, that the English made little account of them, and that if it had come to a joynt Battell they would have beene content to have had 3. Dutch for one English, and yet would have come off with honour: Philip thought good, that whilest hee was besiedging Callais, Iohn de Croy should besiedge Guiennes, wherein fortune favored him with victory though exclusively; For Sangatus having yeelded to Robert de Sanences under his conduct, and those of Sangate. Guines being necessitated to forsake the Towne, and retire themselves into the Castle, hee could not for all the aforesaid good luck com­passe the getting of it. All this while, the Fleet from Holland and Zea­land appeared not, whereat Philip was much troubled, and those of Gaunt murmured at it, as if the sailing of ships like the running a cariere [Page 104] with horses depended upon mans will, on the contrary, the English Ships came to anchor, loaded with men, munition, and victualls, so as blushing at their beliefe, that those who were there would have fled, since they sawe others come voluntarily to runne the same hazard, they knew not what to say: they thought themselves betrayed; Phi­lip by his Advisers, and they by the Hollanders being too late aware, that it was impossible to take Callais, so easily as they had imagined without the Mastership at Sea, or hinderance of daily succour; the besieged having put their Cattell to grasse without the Walls, they would not have dared lay hands on them had not the Piccards en­couraged thereunto, by having cunningly got some of them, but whilest 200. of them undertooke the enterprise, 22. of them were slaine, 33. taken prisoners, and the rest escaping by flight thought themselves never a whit the worse men: but accounted it a peece of bravery to have escaped, every whisper affrighted them; and eve­ry motion made them give Allarum's, all which were punyards which wounded Philip, to whom whilest hee was thus agitated; Pembrooke an Herauld of the Duke of Glocesters presented himselfe, letting him know; that the Duke his Master intended to come and fight with him, in that very place if hee would tarry for him, and if not hee would finde him out in his owne Dominions: that hee could not prefixe a set day as willingly, hee would have done, because his occasions depended upon the Seas and Wynd, which were uncer­taine and unconstant; Philip replied that the Duke of Glocester should not need to seeke him forth else-where, for hee would find him out where hee now was, if God should not dispose otherwise of him, then causing the Herauld to bee fairely treated, hee dismissed him gi­ving him a goblet, and an hundred peeces of gold, Philip went then to the Tent of Gaunt (wherein all resolutions were made his owne not having that prerogative) were sum-moning together: all the Flemish Commanders and Cavalliers, hee made one of his Coun­cellors acquaint them with Glocesters Embassie and his answer which his reputation did oblige him unto, entreating them for hishonour and their owne, not to desert him but to serve manfully upon this occasion, noe man opposed, all were forward in their promises, but every little pretence wherein honour did not predominate, did al­wayes break what every obligatory promise. There stood a little Hill not farre from Callais, which being fortified was not onely likely to prejudice the Fort, but from thence might bee discovered whatsoever was therein done. To this purpose, Philip caused a Fort to bee built there, of oake and other wood in all hast guarding it with Artillery, and placing therein a Garrison of those of Gaunt commanded by brave Captains, a busines which the English did not very well like of, and though they used all the meanes they could to winne it 'twas but in vaine for the greatest part of all the campe flocked thither to repell them, at last came the Holland-fleet upon the 25. of Iuly, which had brought along with it six Ships loaden with great stones which were all sunck, the next night at full Sea in the Mouth of the haven, though the besieged did what they could to hinder them, [Page 105] but the Hollanders were mightily deceived, for they had not suncke them in the right mouth of the Channell, so as at the eb they appeared above the sands, it being easie for those of the Towne (who run thither in troopes, man woman and child) to free themselves thereof, by burning some of them, and carrying the rest together with the stones into the Citie, though the Canonplaid upon them from the Fleet. This bad successe cooled the little heate which yet re­mained in the besiegers, but they were conjealed to yce: when the Hollanders without any notice given or leave taken, waighed anchor and hoized saile, steering their course homewards, two dayes after their first arrivall. The reasons which they afterwards alleadged, for this were the hazard their Ships were in, by reason of the narrownes of the variable Sea, betweene the two points of Dover and Callais, and the danger they were to run of the English-fleet, to the which they were inferiour, both in quality, number of Ships, and Souldiers, tis incredible to say, how mad those of Gaunt were at this, they said they were promised, that Callais should bee besiedged by Sea and Land, that Philip was abused by such as governed him, and they by him, they had ill favoredly handled Monsieur de Croy, and three others that were with him, had they not retired themselves to Iohn de Croy's campe underneath Guines, they affirmed these things not for that they beleeved them to bee so, but to cancell their owne defaults with other mens incke, to the end that their hatched mutiny (a naturall de­fect in them) might bee thought reasonable, the Advisers thereunto to bee judged indiscreet, not traytors, whilest their bad Councell pro­ceeds not from malice, the execution depending upon the Arbitre­ment of a judicious Prince, if such a one hee bee, if not, the fault is to bee shared betweene them. Mallice subject to the punishment of law, under the deserved title of treason, indiscretion to the punishments of shame and repentance, not but that there may bee some advices wherein imprudency may not bee punishable, but this was none of those: if the Advisors had equally considered, the profit and the diffi­culty, they had not erred; but their confidence in the one, would not suffer the other to bee seene. All great actions proceed from bold and hazardous Councels, which are esteemed good if the successe bee good; if bad indiscreet and rash, the going away of the Hollanders might suffer excuse for their defeat which would have beene cer­taine, bore along with it, the Princes undoubted prejudice, they errd in departing without leave, but it was a discreet errour, for had they desired it, it would not have beene granted, if those of Gaunt had had a like courage to those of Brugus who would not consent to bee gone, had they had patience to expect Glocester, and valour to over­come him; the Advisors would have beene thought wise, and the Hollanders faithfull. Treason is not a casuall but a voluntary act fore­thought on, to the prejudice of the Master, and advantadge of the enemy, conditions which were not found in any of the forenamed, those of Gaunt were they alone who were in fault, since their Prince undertooke this siedge upon the promise of their assistance, and yet they failed him to the prejudice of the undertaking, and losse of [Page 106] his honour, for the which they should have hazarded all, since hee hazarded his life, for fortune might bereave of victory, not of honour, which was not to bee bereft; but through their basenes and default. After Philip had received the Ambassy from Glocester, hee had sent to levy new Forces out of Picardy, Artois, and Hannault, and calling the chiefest of the army together, hee found them all as formerly willing and ready, but the common people wholly altered, for those of Callais had sallyed forth in great numbers, the foot to win the for [...], the horse to kepe it from being succoured, so as with very little difficulty they wonne it, burnt it, and of 400. that were there, they slew a 160. and tooke the greatest part of the rest prisoners, but slaine before they came to Callais to revenge the death of an English Gentleman, who being taken by the Picardes was forthwith slaine in the middest of them by those of Gaunt: this accident did so incense them as that they resolved immediatly to be gone, and though Philip himselfe came unto them, remembring them with the promise hee had made unto Glocester, hee could not prevaile with them, hee entreated them to tarry but till the next day; to the end that they might march away without dis-order, and not leave any thing behinde them: which might service for a trophie to the enemy, offering himselfe to bring them beyond the water, at Gravelin: but neither could hee prevaile in this, they said they needed no guide, they went their wayes and were followed by the rest, they tooke away with them all that in so short a time, they could pack up, and not able to carry away all; they broke out the bottoms of many buts of wine and other drinke, that the enemy might not make use of them, they left notwithstanding many peeces of Artillery behinde them, munition, and victualls, for want of carriages, and having set their huts on fire, they marched in disorder towards Gravelin, crying out home, home, wee are be­trayed; Philip who had observed all these proceedings with a sorrow­full countenance tarried in Battell array, till hee saw them out of danger, and then marched orderly after them having his Horsemen for his reareward. Iohn de Croy, who by his commandement was risen from before Guines came to him, hee likewise having left his Artillery behind him and many other things for the same defect: at Gravelin, Philip held a Councell what was to bee done, the resolu­tion was, that all the frontire places should have addition of Garrisons put into them, and that commissions should forthwith bee sent abroad, to the end that troopes might not bee wanting for all places which might bee assembled together as occasion should serve, hee againe entreated the common people to deferre their departure for some few dayes, but was forced to give them leave to bee gone since they would have taken leave, had it not beene given them, by this hee lear­ned that men without courage and who are forced to fight, winne no battels. Of all other places hee chiefely prepared for the defence of Gravelin; hee left there many brave Gentlemen, who voluntarily tooke upon them to defend it; amongst which Messieurs de Chricchi Sannenses and L [...]laine, hee did the like in Ardres, Bullen, and all the neighbouring places in his passage to Li [...]e, hee caused souldiers every [Page 107] where to be raised, being sure that Glocester would performe his pro­mise to him, though he had broken his; all this relation is according to Monstrelet, but the English though they agree in all things else, dif­fer in the raising of the siege, they say that Philip being advertised that Glocester was to come the next day, went his way by night; and that though the French labour to excuse him, the Dutch lay all the fault up­on him; but I beleeve Philip to be so generous, as that he would rather have dyed then have beene guilty of so much basenesse. There want not examples of the Flemings insolencies towards their Princes, his father Iohn was in the like manner abandoned before Mondediere.

And as for the Flemmish Authors Meierus Henterus and Petit, if I understand them aright they say no such thing, and Speede an English Authour sayes that Philip was excused by many out of reasons suffi­ently probable. Glocester came to Callis as some say with 300. as others with 500. vessells loaded with 25000. Souldiers, & finding the enemy gone entered Flanders, meeting none that did oppose him, he tarried not to besiege any place, but burning and destroying where e're hee went put all to ruine; great was the prey hee made especially of beasts: He burned Popernence, Bailleul, Chasteauneufe, Rimesture and Vallor-Chap­pule, he dismantled many Castles forsaken by their Garrisons; till weary of going about and wanting bread hee retired to Guienes, and from thence to Callais. Many women at the price of a peece of bread recovered the ruines of their houses, the scarcity of bread was the cause of much sicknesse in the Army. But Glocester having onely selfe interest for his occasion, hee returned to England; where he found new troubles appeased, first by danger and then by the death of the King of Scotland.

King Iames had married his daughter Margaret to Lewis the Dol­phin, whereat England was distasted; since this affinity could but not be prejudiciall to her, so as the two nations being netled began to en­damage each other, the Scots pretended a double injury that England had endeavoured to hinder the Brides passage into France, since not able to breake the marriage, they would have interrupted it by taking taking her prisoner; and that the Earle of Northumberland unprovo­ked had assailed the confines of Scotland. Vpon these dislikes, Iames commenc't the warre, and went with 30000. men to besiege Rosburg. This place was commanded by Sir Ralph Gray, who though hee did valiantly defend it, yet was not hee the occasion of the Kings raising the siege, nor yet the succour which the Earle of Northumberland was to bring him, 'tis likely some more urgent occasions was the cause thereof, the true reason then was his wives hasty comming unto the Campe, who being a woman and a Princesse, would not have ha­zarded herselfe at such a time without some urgent occasion, which since it doth belong unto the story, I will take leave shortly to relate it; shee came to advertise him of a conspiracy that was plotting against his life, which caused him raise the siege to prevent it; though his intentions did not succeede for blowes from heaven are not to be evaded.

Walter Earle of Atholl, his unckle, was chiefe of this conspiracy [Page 108] wrought thereunto by wicked ambition, which lay lurking in him many yeares before. 'Twas he that had incited Robert Duke of Awebe­ny to kill Prince David, that hee might serve this Iames with the same sawce, had not his father sent him away, had he beene saved by being prisoner in England; his designe was when these two Princes should be murthered, himselfe to kill Robert and his sonne, that hee might without any competitor remaine the sole heire unto the king­dome, and 'twas not unlikely to have fallen out according to his wish; for Robert after so many detestable wickednesses grew to be ha­ted by all men: But Iames his preservation, having broken both their designes, it tooke life againe in him alone. When Robert being dead Mordecay his sonne, and the sonnes of Mordecay executed after Iames his returne to Scotland, none stood betweene him and the accomplish­ment of his tyranny but the very King; neither did hee beleeve that the people would be thereat displeased, for Iames had mightily di­stasted the people, by putting a great taxation upon them for the Fleete which did conduct his daughter to her husband, which was by many of them denyed, and but unwillingly paid by the rest. In so much as though Iames had given order to the Collectors to ga­ther no more monyes, and to restore what already had beene collected to those that gave it; yet did hee not sufficiently sweeten them, for such favours as are caused by necessitie doe not content the people, but that which did the most of all offend them was his unexpected rising from before Roseburg, for having beene at great expence for this enterprise, and no man guessing at the reason of his quitting it, it could allow of no good construction. Atholl was the chiefe actor in this Tragedy, but would not bee seene therein; till he appeared as King, not as guilty. His chiefest instruments were two bold Roberts, the one his owne Grandsonne, the other of the Family of the Gri [...]es; the former drawne by his Grandfathers authoritie; and his hopes after him as being his heire, the other out of an eager desire of being revenged upon the King, by whom he reputed himselfe doubly in­jured, for having long before for some misdemeanors beene impri­soned and banished the King had lately taken from him the guardian­ship of a nephew of his, which was falne unto him by his brothers death. The Queene had discovered the conspiracy, but not the con­spirators, so as the King using all possible dilligence to find them out, made them hasten the effecting of their businesse for feare of being discovered, he had withdrawne himselfe, together with his wife, and some familiar friends, without any guard to the covent of preach­ing Friers neare to the walls of Pearth; amongst which was one of the conspirators named Iohn, whose Sir-name I find not written. The Traitors entred into the Friery rewarding the Porter, and being come into the Kings Ante-chamber and met not with any body, they stood expecting that the said Iohn should open the doore, that they might enter without noise; when one Walter Stretton came forth for some businesse concerning the King, who seeing so many armed men, and not able to get backe, cryed Treason, treason; but him they in­stantly slew and ran unto the doore, and found it shut by one Katherine [Page 109] Douglas a Lady worthy remembrance; This Lady missing the great Barre wherewith the doore was wont to be shut, and which was pur­posely hid away by Iohn, supplied the place thereof with her owne Arme, but they forced open the doore, and brake her Arme, they slew all that withstood them: the King was slaine with 28. wounds, the Queen who when her Husband fell, fell upon him to serve him for a Buckler; so as she could not easily be dragg'd from him, received two wounds: and Patrick Dunbarre, brother to the Earle of the March, who defended the King as long as he was able, was left for dead sorely wounded, and his fingers struck off. This cruell treason was forthwith divulged every where, filling all mens mindes with hor­rour and pitty, those who formerly hated the King did now cele­brate him, they called to minde how he had passed all his life in af­flictions, his childhood practised upon his unckle, his youth bittered by imprisonment, his Kingdome annoyed with perpetuall seditions, and now slaine in a Court of government, the most moderate and most just that ever Scotland enjoyed; there was not any Lord though never so farre off, who did not hasten to revenge this death, all the actors whereof (were it out of their overdaring confidence, or did it onely proceed from the will of God) were taken, brought to Eden­burgh, and severally punished. The three principalls Atholl his Grand­sonne and Graines, were the last reserved for punishment, and all of them suffered death; I know not whether more examplary or cruell.

Atholls punishment was divided into three dayes suffering, the first day he was led through the Citie in a Cart, wherein was framed the forme of a Crosse in wood, with a pully at the top of it, with a rope fastned to it, wherewith his hands being fastned behind him, and hee all naked, having his privy parts onely covered, hee was at certaine appointed places drawne up to the toppe of the pully having leaden waights at his heeles within two foote of the ground, and after ha­ving had many of these draughts, hee was set in a Scaffold and had a crowne of red hot Iron set upon his head, a punishment invented as they say, for that he was once foretold by a Sorceresse, that hee should one day be crowned King, in the concourse of a great many of people, the which whether it be true or no, or whether beleefe ought to be gi­ven to such predictions I leave it to be decided by the learned, the knowledge of things to come belong properly to God alone, and if it should bee granted that the divell have some share herein, by his observation of the Starres and their Aspects (wherein he may be a great master, being Coetanean with the Plannets and immortall) yet should I thinke him altogether ignorant herein were it not con­trary to the schoole of Theologists who say, that by sinning hee lost what hee had received by favour, not what was naturall in him, I should resemble him to a cancelled writing, for perfection of know­ledge which was naturall in him being a Species of beatitude, there doth no beatitude belong unto the damned, but allow the opinion of the Schooles, wee may affirme, that his knowledge of things to come being uncertaine and conjecturall (as are all such things as de­pend [Page 110] upon the like principals) hee doth not communicate them, but by uncertainties, and equivocation. Athols prediction proved this unto us; since pronounced in a sense of exaltation and glory it pro­ved to bee base and infamous; but formy part I beleeve these pre­dictions are invented when things have succeeded, one part of the World delighting in being deceived, the other in deceiving and see­ming wise by affirming what is not. The second day hee was laid upon a hurdle, and drawne at a horse taile through the chiefe streetes of Edenbourough. The third day hee was laid upon a table, his Belly ript up; his Bowels throwne into the fire, his Heart torne out and burn't, his Head cut off, his Body quartered, and his Quarters sent to the foure chiefe Cities of Scotland; his Grand-sonne faired the better for his being young, and set on by his Grand-father, hee was one­ly hanged and quartered; Robert Grames was put naked into a Carte, had his hand wherewith hee slew the King, fastned to a ladder ere­cted therein, was pincht with hot yrons in all the parts of his Body, his vitall parts excepted, and then quartered.

England was grieved at the death of this vertuous King, though her enemy; but not thereby incommodiated; for Iames the second not being past seven yeares old was not of age enough to annoy any one, hee himselfe being sufficiently annoyed by the ambition of such who strove to bee his Governour. I observe one thing re­markeable in the story of Scotland, that of one hundred and eight Kings that have raigned there; (our gratious King Charles that now raignes not comprehended in the number) 54. have dyed naturall deaths, 49. have come to violent ends, by misfortune conspiracy and battells, and for the other five which remaine to make up the number, one renounced the Kingdome, and foure fled from thence, and were banished: so as if you will account them happy who come to naturall ends, and number the five who did not dye Kings amongst the un­happy, the number of happy and unhappy is equall, each of them making 54. the like will not bee met withall; as neither the succes­sion of so many Kings in any one Kingdome, or any Kingdome of Europe. After the havock Gloster had made in Philips territores, both parties drawne either by the perswasion of friends or commodity of trading were drawne to treat of truce at Gravelein, whither for Henry went the Cardinall of Winehester, the Duke of Norfolke, the Earle of Stafford, with others verst in law and busines, and for Philip the Dutchesse his wife, the Bishop of Arras, Monsieur de Croy and others, a truce was concluded in the name of the Dutchesse; Philip not being so much as named therein, which caused two opinions, either that Henry would not treat with him as being a perjured man and a breaker of former agreements, and therefore not better to bee now expected from him, or els that it was a peece of cunning in Philip not to cause jealously in Charles, and that it might bee lawfull for him to undoe what was there done, when it might turne to his advantage: since wives promises doe not oblige their husbands, which of these was the true cause; it is hard to say neither; doth it much import, the onely certainty is that it lasted but a while.

[Page 111] The death of Queen Katharine mother to King Henry hapned at the same time, who being left a widdow in her time of youth, and without hope of marrying her selfe otherwise, did secreetly marry Owen Tewdor a young Gentleman of Wales, whose laudable parts ad­ded to the Noblenes of his birth (for hee was descended from Cad­wallader, the last King of the Britons) moved her to take him for hus­band, by him shee had three sonnes and one daughter, the sonnes names were Edmond and Iasper, the third sonnes name who became a Benedictine Frier is not exprest; as neither the Daughters name who became likewise a Nun: the two first being brothers by the mothers side to King Henry, were by him created Earles: Edmond of Richmond, Iasper of Pembrooke: Edmond who did marry Iane the onely daughter and heire of Iohn Duke of Somerset was Father to Henry the seaventh; but Katharine being dead, Owen was questioned for marrying a woman that had such relation unto the King without his consent, where­upon Gloster having caused him two severall times to bee imprisoned, and hee having twise made an escape, the third time hee was caught and lost his life. But this is not the common opinion of Authours as wee shall see: George Lille layes, hee was descended from a base ori­ginall, and toucheth no other particulers, Meirus makes him the Ba­stard of an Alehouse keeper in Walles, Katharnes Taylor; and very lately married by her; to the end, that the children shee had by him might by her marriage bee made legitimate: Belleforest affirmes the same. I cannot imagine where Lille can have had this, if not from Meirus: none of all the English Writers, I have met with having so much as dream't thereof. Belleforest by alleadging Lille and Meirus, and gi­ving word for word what Meirus saith, doth plainely shew, hee had it from him, and from whence Meirus had it, it is not hard to guesse, since hee was a Dutchman, his Author was Margarita the Sister of Edward the fourth; second wife to Charles, Duke of Burgandi, Philips son. Of all women that ever were she was the most passionately given to the faction of her owne family, for if shee had a hand in the false supposition of an Edward Plantagenet, and afterwards by her owne invention did suppose the sonne of a Iew turned Christian, to the end that he might personate the Duke of Yorke, when he together with his brother Edward the fifth was smoothered in the Tower; and so trouble the affaires of Henry the seaventh (as wee shall hereafter see) tis no wonder if shee invented this Genealogie to defame him and make him to bee by the World despised; besides it is not likely, that a young Queene Dowager lately come into the Kingdome, who neither had had time nor occasion to raise herselfe a faction in the Kingdome without regency or authority, without meanes either to punish or reward, should be so long permitted to live in so dishonest a manner, not onely in the face of her sonne a milde youth, but in the fight of her too powerfull and sensible brother-in-lawe, of the nobility, and all the Kingdome; (for it is not to bee supposed that the Court could bee hud winckt in foure great bellies) shee was therefore undoubtedly married, and her marriage wincked at by reason of her husbands birth, which though it was not answerable to her present condition, yet to [Page 112] be tollerated in respect of his fore fathers, for nobility doth not lose it priviledges for want of fortune and want of worth, which hee wanted not, if wee may beleeve them who were likely to have bet­ter testimonials thereof then Meirus, and if hee were put to death (which is not certain,) it was not for his basenes of birth but for his offence, in having dared contrary to the lawes to marry the Kings mother. Queene Katharine was followed in her death, and imitated in her marriage: In death shee was followed by Queene Iane daugh­ter to Charles the second, surnamed the wicked King of Navar, Dowager to Henry the fourth King of England, and before him to Iohn the fourth, Duke of Britanny, by whom shee had Iohn the now present Duke, and Arthur Count de Richmond Constable of France. In her marriage shee was imitated by Giva Colinia, daughter to the late Count Saint Paul who for fancy sake like her did marry Sir Ri­chard Woodveil afterwards created Earle Rivers, without acquainting her brother the now present Count St. Paul therewithall nor yet her uncle the Bishop of Tirrovane, and as from Katharines marriage; Henry the seaventh did proceed, and all the Kings that have succeeded him, even till this present day; so from Iacholinus marriage did Eliza­beth wife to Edward the fourth proceed, from whom came Elizabeth wife to Henry the seaventh, the first mother of the Kings of England and great Britanny they were both French women married to two brothers alike in resolution and fortune so as if those that blame them could have foreseene their succession, they would have com­mended them for bad actions are stiled good by their happy events. In the last insurrections in Normandy the English had lost Harfluer a losse of great consequence for the preservation of that province, the Duke of Somerset went to besiedge it, and to recover it, accompanied by Faulkonbridge, and Talbot. Estouteville commanded there in chiefe with a Garrison of 600. Souldiers and though the Towne did suffer much by battery the walles being thereby defaced, and the houses beaten downe, yet could they not come to an assault; The Bastards of Orleans and Burbone, presented themselves before it in the way of succour, and did on all sides molest the besiedgers, hoping by disordering them to succour the Towne, but not succeeding therein they abandoned the enterprise. The Duke of Somerset got as much honour in the win­ning of this Towne as shame in the losse of it, for having wonne it in the Duke of Yorkes regency hee not long after lost it in his owne, Tancherville yeelded it selfe likewise to Talbot after a siedge of foure monthes as did also Beauchastaean and Maleville: Charles on the other side having past the Loire, with the Constable and Count de Marsh, did by assault take Chasteau Landone, hanging up all the French they found there. Charni and Nemours yeelded themselves up unto him, hee battered the Towne of Montea [...]: till such time as Thomas Gerard who did defend it sold it to him for a summe for mony, so say the English, not Chartiere, who saith hee wan it by force, so as the Castle afterwards yeelded, all the French wherein were hanged, and the English set at liberty at the Dolphins request, from thence hee went to Paris, where having not beene since it returned to his obedience, hee [Page 113] made his entry with great solemnity and acclamation all these losses hapned in the interim, when the Duke of Yorke being called from his regency, and the Earle of Warwick appointed in his place, no man thought how to regaine them, for Yorke being out of authority, and Warwick seaven weekes weather bound, so as hee could not passe into France for lack of winde: this was the cause why Monstreau without any further contestation yeelded it selfe unto Charles: Yorke during all the time of his regency in Normandy was not personally pre­sent at any act of Warre, saving at the taking in of Fescampe, yet at his departure, hee left the fame of a wise and just Man.

Florimand de Brima [...] Balieffe of Pontieu had private advertisement, that the Fort of Crotoi was ill provided of victuall and not likely 1424. therewithall to bee supplied, if it were beguirt with an unexpected siedge: Hee advertised Philip hereof who suddenly dispacht away, Messieurs de Achi Crovi, Kenti Iaques de Brimeau, Boudlers Lavense, and Graen, with good forces to besiedge it, but hee did not provide for the most essentiall thing which was to block up the heaven; for it had not victualls wherewithall to sustaine it selfe for 8. dayes. The Garrison which feared nothing but hunger (an engine against which there is no defence) finding the Sea open; sent forth a vessell which by severall returns freed them from the pressing affaire, and were no wayes affraid of being otherwise oppugned. The Burgonians were too lateaware of their errour, so as manning forth foure ships, they tooke from them the liberty of the Sea, and there land forces were daily augmented. Philip was come for this purpose to Hedine and leavied new forces in Hannault and Piccardy. This Fort was a place of great consequence, a Sea haven, the inlet into Picardy; scituated betweene R [...]es Monstreula and Saint Valeri: requisite to the peacefull possession of Callais, Bullen, and Pontieu. So as if Philip did what in him lay to winne it the English did what they could to succour it; The Burgo­nians that they might bee sure to keepe it from being succoured, built a great Fort wherein they placed 1500. Souldiers: and the English to free the Towne from being blockt up by Sea sent forth seaven ships, which chas'd away the other foure: thereby freeing it from the feare it was in of want of victualls and totally to set it at liberty: the Regent Warwick sent thither; Talbot, Scales and Terrill, with 5000. figh­tingmen who having passed the Soame; marched forward with a re­solution either to raise the siege or dye in the quarrell. Philip being hereof advertised hasted from Hedine to Abeville, accompanied by the Counts of Nivers, Saint Paul, Estampes, and the Prince of Cleurs, in a posture of affronting the enemy but in effect did nothing. For the English passed every where unresisted doing all the mischiefe they could; so as by this proceeding it was thought hee meant to raise the siedge with the least dishonour hee might, and the besiedgers scandali­zed at this his temporising, no sooner understood of Talbots approach, but imitating those of Gaunt before Callais, they rise from before the Towne not expecting any command, and retired to Rues; being scoftat and mockt by the Garrison (as saith Monstreulet) as men of no [Page 114] courage there was amongst them foure Knights of the order, Iohn de Croy, Florimand, and Iames de Bremiau, and Baude de Noyelle; so as Talbot after having burnt eight Towers, ruinated all the Country about, and raised the siege; turned back the same way into Normandy with a booty of many prisoners and horses: and Philip with this se­cond shame retired himselfe to Arras having lost many of his car­riages taken from him by S. Thomas Terrill.

This Winter was much more sharp then usuall, which caused the surprise of Pontous, the possession whereof the more necessary it was 1438. for Charles, by reason of the nearenes thereof to Paris, the more was hee incommodiated by the losse of it, it was a fit place to annoy the one side, and to secure the other from the City, and all the Isle of France. Talbot was he who did the busines, who favored by the ditches being froozen over, might without danger make himselfe master thereof by scaling it, the onely obstacle, hee met withall was two brothers surnamed Gurry, who having fortified themselves in a Turret which stood over the Gate which lead to Paris, and sent notice thither did defend it, till the ensuing night, and if any succour had come, the Towne had run danger of being recovered by that place, but no suc­cour appearing they covenanted to be gone; their lives saved, and leave the Towne to him that had wonne it, so as the in-roades that were afterwards made. The mischiefe that the French Garrisons for want of pay did in the Country, and famine which by reason of the Countries not being cultiated, was very great; forced the poore Country-people to retire themselves to Paris, where neere about 50000. dyed, for meere want: and amongst so many miseries, the newest and unheard of was, that no man durst walke through the open fields and Country Villages for feare of Woolves, which having slaine and eaten about 80. people taught the rest to guard themselves from them, thus were they warr'd on by all sides; their friends in­jured them by their insolencies and rapines, their enemies slue them, their ground gave not its wonted encrease, and ravenous beasts de­voured them.

After Warwick was come into France; Earle Montaigne came to Cheriburg with 400. Archers and 300. Launces, with the which pas­sing through the Country of Maine, hee by assault tooke Saint Annian put 300. of the Scottish Garrison to the sword, and hung up the French therein as falsesifiers of the oaths, they had formerly taken to Henry at the same time. Longaville, Charles, Ma [...]ille, and many other places yeelded themselues up to Talbot not so much for lack of vi­ctualls as want of Loyalty: On the other side naturall inclination cau­sed Montargnes and Cherosse to submit themselves to Charles, his obe­dience playing with fortune and as it were in sport, giving them­selves some times to the one side, some times to the other. This meane while Philip who after his unfortunate retreate from Callais studied nothing more then how to annoy that place, sent a number of Pioners, Woodcleavers and Smiths with a conduct of 1600. Souldiers to cut downe the bancks which resisted the Sea, beleeving that hee should thereby drowne Callais and all the precincts thereof, but the event [Page 115] shewed his want of experience, who advised him thereunto for lea­ving the enterprise; they went to Pont de Millay, rather that they might appeare not to have come in vaine, then out of hopes of their endea­vours might proove prejudiciall to Callais or the parts adjacent. The Souldiers of France were reduced to that point, as they were no lon­ger fit to defend, but made rather a profession of living upon other mens goods, more to the prejudice of their owne side, then of their enemies: some good store of them, had assembled themselves toge­ther to commit robberies safely amongst their owne men, since they could get nothing amongst the enemy but wounds, and death. They were properly enough called Flears, great complains was made here­of to Charles, especially of one of their troopes which rise to the number of 600. horse led on by Rodrigo de Villandras, who being by Charles commanded either to quit the Kingdome or els to fight against the enemy, did not obey him, which forced Charles to march himselfe into the field and fight with him. Villandras weighing the danger made vertue of necessity, hee went to Toulosse, from thence to Guiene, where having much endamaged the English; hee deserved his pardon though the English did afterwards in the Dolphins insur­rection regaine all they there lost.

The dangers of that Province were at this time caused more by corruption of mony then force of Armes, which being knowne in England, and that the Bastard of Orleans was for this purpose at Tolousse they dispatcht away the Earle of Huntington with 2000. Bowmen and 400. Lances, who broke the bargaine by changing the Gover­nours, and removing the Captaines from one place to another, and because the like contagion was entered amongst the Souldiers in Normandy corrupted by the French crownes, a supply of a 1000. men was sent thither under the conduct of foure Knights which secured that Province, and though it cannot for certaine bee affirmed, that there was some corruption in the losse of Meaux in Brie, yet hee who did defend it gave evident signes thereof, for being besieged by the Constable and taken by assault, wherein the Bastard of Tian was taken and immediately beheaded. The defendants retired themselves into the market place (one of the strongest retreats, that then was in all France) where they might longer have held out, for Talbot being come with 4000. Souldiers with full purpose to give the Constable battle, (who having fortified himselfe in the City did not stirre from thence, though much provoked) tooke a Fort placed in the Island neare unto the Market-place wherein hee slew 120. men, tooke all the rest pri­soners; and forced Monsieur de Croy to abandon his quarter; and got many barkes loaded with victualls, so as having secured the besieged and furnished them with fresh Souldiers, they did not withstanding forbeare to surrender themselves. A few dayes after, Sr. William Cham­berlaine was their chiefe as saith Monstrelee, and Sr. Thomas Abringant according to Chartier; but whether of either it was where hee came to Roan, hee was clapt up prisoner in the Castle, and accused for having surrendred, not necessitated thereunto, since hee had men, victualls, and munition; but how ever, hee so pleaded for himselfe, [Page 116] as he was set at liberty. The Constable not content with this atchieve­ment marched into Normandy, besieged Auranches; and at the comming of the Duke of Alansonne was by him reinforced with new troopes, a part whereof tooke the City and Castle of Saint Susanna in Mayne, through the treachery of an English Knight, as saith Giles, whom hee nameth not. As for Auranches after three weekes siege hee was forced to rise from before it, for Talbot came and countersieged him, entring the towne in his very sight, the Constable not being able to hinder him.

The Dolphins insurrection which hapned at this time, did a little re­tard his fathers good fortune, for thereby the English repossessed them­selves of such places as they had lately lost, hee was then just sixteene yeares old, he lived at Loches under the tuition of Count de Marsh, a gentleman of noble conditions, but his authoritie grew lesse after his marriage, and after that with the waight of the Corrazza, hee liked well of millitary applause, and the flatteries of such who hoped for ad­vancement by reason of this rent, the causes hereof were two; the first for that Charles was alwayes governed by people of no great ac­count, the second the ambition of the Princes, which hath at all times been prejudiciall to France, for they pretend to that out of right, which is onely due unto them by favour. Charles gave occasion hereof by his ill conceived suspitions, and the Princes laid hold thereof contrary to the lawes of nature, by making the sonne disobedient to the father, and to civill wisedome; by putting dissention in the kingdome in a time when they should all have conspired to have set it free, by expelling the enemy. But suspitions were in Charles become inseparable and be­come naturall unto him, by reason of his being become accustomed to his mothers persecutions, and the enmity of Burgony, and England, so as affying onely in the meaner sort of people, as those that were lesse apt to hurt him, he made them insolent, as mistrusting the great ones; he gave them cause of offence, by excluding them from his fa­miliarity and affaires, his sonnes discontents sprung from the same fountaine, his father grew jealous of him, seeing him grow in autho­rity as in yeares, and in the subjects expectation, so as to keepe him under, he treated him more frugally and held a stricter hand over him, then his yeares, his being married, and his ambition could permit; those who misled him were the Dukes of Burbone and of Alansonne, the Counts of Vandome Chabanes, the Dunnesse, Charmount, Tremugtie, Bo­veant and Prie by the Bastard of Burbones meanes, these bad him weigh the duty he ought his father, and the welfare of the state; that the former was to be preserved by the preservation of the latter, but not contrarywise. They shewed unto him the evill effects caused by his fathers bad government, they ript up all from the murthering of the Duke of Burgundy even to the present time, they enformed him that those who were of the greatest authoritie about him, perswaded him to peace, which could not be done without dismembring the king­dome, (which was to deprive him the Dolphine of his inheritance and patrimony) for that their power being weakned by warre, wherein Captaines and governours of provinces were onely to be used, they [Page 117] could not tyrannize over the King, Kingdome, Princes and Dolphin, un­lesse they should exclude men of merit. They told him how his be­ing confined in so solitary a place, might serve for an Argument to prove this, since he was kept there of set purpose, that being far from the Court, and ignorant of affaires, he might depend upon them, that by taking upon him so generous a resolution hee could not displease his father, since the effects would shew that such disobedience would redound more to his profit then any obedience could doe, since there­on depended the preservation of the state; father, sonne and subjects. I know not whether it were these reasons that prevailed with the Dol­phin, or else his owne contumatious inclination [...]: his answer was, hee was ready to doe whatsoever his quality obliged him unto. That all the power lay in the Princes, that hee would neither be wanting to himselfe nor them. In briefe leaving Loches and the Count his governour, he went to Monlius where the Duke of Burbone wai­ted for him, and whether the Duke d'Alansonne and Count de Dam­martin came unto him, and after them all the rest, with a resolution not to part with him till such time as (according to the common pretence of all seditious people) disorders were reformed, the authority of the Princes established, and men of worth called into favour. They used their best meanes to draw Philip to their faction, but hee whose eyes were not dazled did not onely deny them, but advised them to more wholesome resolutions; since their enterprise was unjust, full of danger, and for which they had no ground, hee protested, hee would never seperate himselfe from Charles, and said, hee should bee able to doe the Dolphin better service by not siding with him, then if hee should take his part, this answer did displease the confederated, fin­ding themselves thereby deceived in their chiefest hope, but they were much more displeased, when all the Provinces did with hor­rour and detestation heare of this insurrection. They all loved the Dolphin, and offered to serve him, but not against his Father, who having admonished him of his duty, and not prevailing, went armed to Poictiers: from whence hee sent to the Duke of Burbone, comman­ding him to deliver up unto his Sonne, and to the Duke of Alanson, commanding him to surrender up Niorte, and Saint Massence willing them both to come before him, and give a reason for their insur­rection; but they obeyed not. On the contrary, Alanson sent word to Massence to defend it selfe, upon notice whereof the City revolted, and the Castle was besieged, and taken by the Kings forces, which suddenly flockt thither, and the Commanders hanged. Finally a to­tall agreement was made by an assembly held at Clarimont, where the King being perswaded to pardon the Offendors, if together with the Dolphin they would humbly begge forgivenes, they all came and threw themselves before his feet. Charles blamed his Sonne for his fault committed, and the danger he had therby put the Kingdome to, exhorting him to better thoughts, and hee desiring his Father to par­don, Tremoulle, Chamount, and Prie, (who were excepted in the par­don) protesting hee would not accept of his unlesse they had theirs: His Father rebuked him againe, and was contented that being free [Page 108] from punishment they should retire themselves to their owne houses, wherewithall he was notwithstanding to be contented, unlesse they would abandon those.

In the time of these disorders Richard Beauchampe Earle of Warwicke and Regent of France dyed, and the Duke of Yorke was the second time chosen, who passed into Normandy, accompanied by the Earle of Oxford, the Lord Bourchier, intituled Earle of Eu, and many other gentlemen: he presently found wherein to imploy himselfe for the losse of Pontouse, being very incommodious for the Parisians, they disbursed a great summe of mony to Charles, that he might en­deavour the recovery of it, wherefore hee went to besiege it with 1200. old Souldiers, and was followed by the greatest part of the Princes, and Nobles of France, the Lord Iohn Clifford, who together with Talbot had but a little before surprised it, commanded there in chiefe.

The River Ouse did much incommodiate the besiegers, for they could not approach the Citie on that side, wherefore having built a bridge of Boates over against the Abby of Saint Martins, and made themselves masters of the Abby, they made thereof a Fort, which did much endamage the besieged, yet were they not so begirt on all sides, but that they were succoured as some will have it foure or five times; Talbot was the first who furnish't them with men and victuals, and the Duke of Yorke came thither with 8000. men, sent to present battell by his heraulds, which Charles would not by any meanes ac­cept of, for since the river parted the two Armies, hee beleeved that as long as the bridge of Beaumont was well guarded (by which the Duke was to passe) hee could not be enforc'd to fight; but the Duke having brought along with him in Carts great store of Boates, Cor­dage, timber, and plankes, hee passed some few of his men over the River, who so speedily wove a bridge of Ropes (whilest Talbot see­med as if he would force his passage over the bridge of Beaumont, as that they were almost all past over before the enemy was aware, so as it was too late to withstand them, in the endeavouring whereof many were slaine, and many taken prisoners; Charles was commen­ded for his wisedome in not entertaining the battle, but he was blamed for his negligence in suffering the enemy to passe the River, being thereby reduced to a necessitie of fighting against his will, but being resolved not to come to handblowes, he raised his siege by night, and having put his Ordnance into the Fort Saint Martin, the which hee left in the custody of Charles d'Aniou and the Admirall Coetery, with 3000. men, he retired himselfe to Poiesy. The Duke who upon break of day had put himselfe in order to give him Battle, finding him gone entered the Citie, and having caused fresh supply of victualls to bee brought in, and left Sir Iarvis Clifton there with a 1000. men to de­fend it, he marched forwards towards Poiesy, but Charles eschewing him after some few skirmishes hee went to Lamote, and from thence to Rhoan; Charles this meane while suffered in his reputation, especially amongst the Parisians and Courtiers, which made him resolve to re­turne to Pontouse, and either take it or dye in the enterprise, he went thi­ther [Page 119] with new Forces, he assaulted it on three sides he himselfe in per­son in one part, the Dolphin in another, hee entred the towne though in his entrance he lost 3000. of his men, of the thousand that were in the Garrison; 500. died in the assault, and many afterwards, so as very few of the Commander Cliston remained prisoners. This losse was the cause of many others, particularly of Corbeile, Mellune and Eureux, but this accident hindered not the Negotiation of peace, which was adjourned the last yeare, till the now present time, the assembly was to be at Callais, for the English would not give way it should bee else where. Those that were imployed from England brought along with them the Duke of Orleans still a prisoner, to the end that by his endeavouring the businesse, he might procure his li­berty; the chiefe of those who were imployed from France were the Archbishop of Rheims and Narbone, and the Bastard of Orleans. On Phi­lips behalfe came Monsieur de Croevaceur, many dayes were spent in finding out a meanes of accommodation, but all in vaine, for it was impossible to agree so disagreeing interests. The English held reso­lute to three points; to repossesse the Dutchesse of Normandy, and Gascony, to repossesse whatsoever they had lost for 30. yeares before, and to hold all this free from any dependency upon the crowne of France. In the first there was no great difficulty, nay it was yeelded un­to, but the other two were impossible, for Charles would not restore backe any thing, and much lesse quit that soveraignty, which had beene informer times enjoyed by his predecessors, so as the businesse being adjourned to another time, the assembly was dissolved, the private businesses concerning the Duke of Orleans had no better suc­cesse, for monyes were not found ready for his ransome, and the English would not rely upon his promises, but he had his liberty by a meanes which no man would have imagined. Philip began to con­sider, that if this Prince should be set at liberty, by any other meanes then his, their amity would be immortall; to the ruine of the one or of the other of them, or rather of them both, and of the kingdome; and that if he should undertake to free him, not onely a peace betweene them was likely to ensue, but a friendship for which every one and the King himselfe would thanke him. Yet that he might not walke on hud winckt, and perad venture be deceaved in his beleefe he would first know for certaine whether hee could forget and forgive his fathers murther committed by Philips father, the which as it was altoge­ther unknowne to King Phillip till 'twas committed, so was hee much displeased thereat when 'twas committed: as likewise whether or no he would marry the daughter of the Dutchesse of Clea [...]e his sister; this Prince had beene prisoner 25. yeares, which caused so great a de­sire of liberty in him, as hee with much willingnesse imbraced these propositions: he promised for ever to forget his fathers death, in re­spect of this present favour, and gave his word to marry her whom he proffered him. Hereupon Philip paid 300000. Crownes, and took him from England, he sent the Dutchesse his wife to meete him at Grava­lein, and came thitherafterward himselfe, he brought him to Saint Omers, where having sworne to the peace at Arras, hee gave him the [Page 120] wife hee had promised, and each of them bestowed on others their severall orders. Philip the fleece to Orleans, and Orleans the Porcospino to Philip; actions wherewith Charles was no whit pleased, and which made him not to admit Orleans to his sight, till one yeare after his being at liberty. Of all the Antient prisoners there remained now none in England (for the Count de Eu had ransomed himselfe some two yeares before) save Iohn Count d'Anglesme, who was not a prisoner by name, but lay in pawne for the security of 209000. Francks or of 100000. C [...]wnes, according to St. Marta as the residue of 240000. due for the expences in the assistance given to the house of Orleans a­gainst the house of Burgundy, as wee heard in the life of Henry the fourth. This Prince in the yeare 1413. when hee was given in hostage into England was but nine yeares old, and hee tarried there till the yeare 1445. which was 32. yeares; The Duke of Orleans his brother left him in hostage, not being able to doe otherwise, since hee him­selfe was ransomed by an other: but what by some monies hee had, and some other monies hee got for the Country of Perrigord, which hee sold for this purpose; hee set himselfe at liberty foure yeares after. From these two brothers who had so long lived in captivity did two Kings descend, which succeeded one another, from Charles Duke of Orleans; Iris the twelfth, and from Iohn Count de Angulesme, Charles Count de Angulesme, who was Father to Francis the first. Thus fortune is pleased to sport her selfe with men, as if sorry she had beene so long crosse unto the Fathers, these would recompence them in the glory of them who should descend from them.

The Duke of Yorke was this meane while carefull in the dischar­ging of his office, his honour and actions, were subject to the censure 1442. of evill Willers, which made him more diligent not onely to pre­serve what was gotten, but to adde to what the Crowne of England did for the present possesse in France: where much having beene lost, he thought the best way to preserve the remainder, was to prevent the enemy: and rather to assault them in their owne territories, then suf­fer himselfe to bee prevented, and assaulted by them. To which pur­pose hee selected forth the best Souldiers out of all his Garrisons, and divided them into three parts, hee gave the one part of them to the Lord Willoughby, the second to Talbot, and kept the third for himselfe: and had the Duke of Somerset in his company; Willoughby entered Pi­cardy and forbearing to sack and burne, that hee might avoid giving an Allarum to the Country, hee advanced further by such silence, then hee would have done by ruinating, where hee went for thinking themselves safe; and hearing no newes of any enemy, they were either slaine or taken prisoners, ere they were aware. The neighboring Garri­sons this meane while awakened by their losses joyned themselves together and opposed him, but hee having slaine about 600. of them; and made the rest to flie, their fortune led them to fall upon the Count Saint Paul, whereby they were totally ruinated, and Willoughby re­turned to Roan, loaded with booty and prisoners, the two Dukes ha­ving scoured the Countries of Aniou and Mayne, not meeting with any to withstand them; Yorke retired to Normandy and Somerset entered [Page 121] into Britanny, where having taken Guarches a place belonging to the Duke Alanson, hee put all the neighbouring parts into great com­bustion, whereupon Charles sent the Marishall Loehac to stop his fur­ther progresse, who whilest hee intended to set on him by night was by Somerset prevented, who slew a hundred of his men, and tooke 72. prisoners: amongst which Messieurs de Davesigni, and de Bueil; and with the taking in of Beaumonte called the Visconte, hee put a period to his progresse, Talbots commission was to besiege Diepe, an enterprise not likely to bee effected with 1500. men, hee forbare not though to trie his fortune, hee first made himselfe master of the adjacent places, and notable to beguirt in with a formall siege, hee built a Fort upon a hill called Polet which lookes up in the Haven, and beginning to play upon the Towne with his cannon, hee left it to the care of his Bastard Sonne, till such time as hee might returne from Roan with sufficient Forces. Giles saith that hee left there 600. men, and 200. peeces of Artillery which is not likely; if wee consider the small number of those who conducted them, the number of horses which were requisite to draw them, and the small precincts of the Fort. The preservation of this place did more import Charles, then the winning of it did the English; though it did much concerne them: so as resolving to succour it, the Dolphine got the charge of the con­duct, with the title of Lieutenant generall and governour betweene the two Rivers of Sceine and Lomes, hee gave unto him for his assistants and counsellors the Bastard of Orleans, and the Bishop of Avignone, he was followed by a great number of Gentlemen who flockt unto him from all parts; amongst which the Count Saint Paul made one, who just then had quitted the English party; hee came to Diepe with 15000. fighting men, hee entered the City where having built six bridges of wood, which ran upon wheeles to passe over the ditches of the Fort, hee assaulted it, and had what hee desired. Yet great was the resistance that was made, for many of the assailants being slaine, the rest gave back; and had it not beene for the Dolphins example, (who fought as if hee had beene a common Souldier) the Fort had not beene taken: his presence made them to returne, fight, and over comming all difficulties enter the Fort by force; 300. English were then slaine, the rest remained prisoners, amongst which the Bastard Tal­bot, & two Knights, the few French that were found there were hanged up, and the Fort beaten downe, this hapned in the yeare 1443. Though I have placed it here to avoyd telling the same thing twise: The Dol­phin gave many priviledges to the City, because it had constantly held out which were afterwards confirmed by Charles, and left Mon­sieur de Marrets Governour of the Towne, who had behaved him­selfe there very valiantly. The affaires in Gasconi passed on with the like remisenes, for the English they had besieged Tartras, a City belon­ging to Monsieur d'Albret, the Defendants had agreed to surrender it up: if they should not bee succoured by Saint Iohns-day, and had gi­ven Monsieur d'Albrets eldest sonne in Hostage. To this purpose, Charles came to Tolousse, and from thence to Tartras with an Army of 40000. fighting men with the which the English not being able [Page 122] to bicker, the Towre was quitted, and the hostage restored back from thence hee passed to Saint Levere, hee tooke it by assault; and be sides the Inhabitants slew 400. of the English, and tooke Sr. Thomas Ramstone, who was Governour there prisoner. Ayes yeelded after two months and halfe a siege; Reolle a City seated upon the River of Garrone, seaven leagues distant from Burdeaux, was taken by force, but when Charles returned into France, the English repossessed them­selves of Ayes and Saint Leverine, and kept Ayes but lost Saint Leverine, which was retaken by the Count de Fois their great enemy, in an other part the Towne of Galerdonne, did much molest Shartres as being neare unto it, in so much as the Bastard of Orleans did besiege it, but raised the siege when Talbot having taken Conches came to confront him, and Talbot being assured, that it would againe bee set upon as soone as the Bastard was gone, did demolish it to the very ground, whilest businesses went thus in France; the ground works of Glocesters ruine were laid in England, who relying upon his quality, was not aware that his brothers death had lessened that authority, which was due to him, as Uncle to the King, and Protector of the Kingdome, whereupon provoked by his antient hatred of the Cardinall of Win­chesters pride, hee laid many faults unto his charge wherein though there might bee some likelyhood, yet were not his proofes sufficient to convince him, hee objected unto him 24. Articles, (some of which touched likewise upon the Archbishop of Yorke) that hee had dared to doe many things without the authority of the King, or him the Protector, to the offence of Majesty and of the lawes; to the end, that in honour and dignity hee might proceed wheresoever els of greater degree, that to enrich himselfe hee had defrauded the Ex­chequer, and practised things prejudiciall to the affaires of France, and that hee had beene the cause of the King of Scots liberty contrary to the interests of England, there were the contents of his most waigh­ty objections which were by the King referred to the Councell, and the Councell consisting much of Ecclesiasticall persons, the Duke was deluded, not with oppositions or difficulties, but with hopes & promi­ses, till such time as the controversie falling into oblivion there was no more speech thereof: hee had plunged himselfe into this busines upon extraordinary disadvantage, his nature and the Cardinalls were too much differing, for being more violent then revengefull, and satisfied in that hee had vented his choller, hee did not sollicite expedition, whilest so harmefull carelesnes made him subject to bee despised, and encouraged the Cardinall to revenge. This great Prelates ambition was growne so high, as that hee did pretend that King and Kingdome depended upon his directions, wherein hee did so artificially behave himselfe, that though his actions were blameable and unjust, yet did they to all men seeme praise worthy and just, dis­simulation and cunning are the characters of a wary Courtier, but not of a good Christian, as simplicity and candour are of no use, but of more danger to Princes then private men; Henry and Gloster lost themselves, for not having taken the other Councell: the Car­dinall did with the Duke, as doth a well experienced Captaine with a [Page 123] Fort, who not battering the Wall undermines the foundations, being sure that the Battlements and Walles withall fall at once, without any hazard to himselfe, the foundations were the Dukes reputation, which falling it behooved him to fall, hee caused Elianor Cobham Dutchesse of Glocester, to bee accused of treason witchcraft, and enchantment, for having made the Kings image in wax, purposing that the King should consume away and perish, as that image should doe, to the end that the Duke her Husband might come unto the Crowne: her complices were Thomas Southwell, one of Saint Stephens Canons in Westminster; Iohn Hum a Priest likewise, Roger Bullenbrook re­puted a great Negromancer, & Margery Iordan surnamed the Witch of Eie: they were examined and convinced in Saint Stephens Chappell be­fore the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Dutchesse was sentenced to do publike pennance in three severall parts of the citie, and to perpetuall imprisonment in the Isle of Man, Iohn Humme was pardoned, the other Priest they say did die the night which did immediatly preceede his punishment, according to what he had prognosticated of himself, that he should die in his bed. The Witch was burnt in Smithfield, and Bullingbrooke being drawne at a Horses tayle to Tyburne was hanged and quartered, whether this imputation were true or no may be dispu­ted by reason of Iohn Hummes being pardoned, and Bullingbrookes con­stant affirmation at his death, that no such wickednesse was ever ima­gined by them, how ever it was this businesse was in it selfe so shamefull and scandalous, as the Duke did not any wise meddle there­in, but patiently endured the affront, and the being parted from his wife.

The losses which this meane while were suffered in Guienne, made Henry resolve to send thither some little succour, till such time as hee could provide greater; Sir William Woodvile was dispatcht away with 800. men, and Proclamation made that whosoever would transport any victuals thither should be exempted from all taxations, which caused so much provision be sent thither as did supply the necessitie of that Province: which being environed enemies could not make any use of the adjacent countries; Talbot was likewise dispatcht away with 3000. Souldiers into Normandy, and that he might goe with honour answerable to his deserts, he was by the King created Earle of Shrews­bury, a title which had not beene made use of for 340. yeares from such time as William the Conquerour having bestowed it on Robert Montgomery, who came together with him from Normandy, and who had but two that did succeed him. It fell upon the person and family of Talbot, who have injoyed it the space of a 190. yeares with a suc­cessive descent of ten Earles.

Whilest these provisions were made in England, Count Armignac proffered his daughter for wife to Henry, together with all the places 1433. which hee or his predecessors either by their owne acquirement, or by gift, and investment from the Kings of France had possessed in Gascony; together with monies and assistance in the recovery of such places as were detained from him by Charles, by Monsieur d'Albret, and others of that Province, till such time as hee should [Page 124] be intirely Duke thereof as anciently he was of Aquitane, the councell did well approve of these offers, and Embassadours were sent unto him, but this businesse was not, nor indeede could not be handled with so much see resieas to be kept from Charles his eare, who caused notice to be given unto him for his personall appearing at the Parlia­ment, to be holden within 15. dayes at Tholouse, and from thence at Paris. That which mooved the Count to this offer (to boote with his ambition of having his daughter a Queene, and his dislike for not having a share in Court answerable to his greatnesse, and his fathers great deserving) was his desire to appropriate to himselfe the county of Comminges, whereunto he layd pretence; Iane Countesse of Com­minges daughter to the Count of Bullen, and Comminges, and widdow to Iohn Duke of Berny, who married her when she was but 13. yeares old, and he himselfe above 50. was married a second time to Matthias Count de Castelbuono of the house of Fois, who had by her one daugh­ter, but being hardly handled by her husband, she made a will whereby she made King Charles her heire, in case her daughter should die with­out lawfull heires, for the which her husband shut her up in prison when she was fourescore yeares old, upon this her daughter dyed, and Charles having his hands full else where. Matthias maintained by the Count de Fois, and by agreement with Count Armignac, both his cousen; smade himselfe master of many places of that County; Amig­nac doing the like, who laid pretences thereunto, the King who was obliged to assist Iane, and desires to enjoy in his due time the inheri­tance that was given him, commanded her husband to present her at Tholouse, where asperation between her & him being declared, halfe the county was assigned over to her, & the other half reserved for the kings use, but she dying some three moneths after, and Count Armignack having usurped many places, Charles sent the Dolphin against him: so as being abandoned by Count Perdriak, his brother by Count de March and by Salatzar a Captaine of Arragon, who did all sustaine him, hee shut himselfe up in a Castle, where thinking to couzen the Dolphins young yeares by simulation and treaties, he was by the same arts co­zened by the Dolphin, who was a great master therein, for when he suffered him to enter into the Castle hee tooke him prisoner, and sent him his wife, his second sonne and two daughters to Carcassonne, from whence he was delivered at the intercession of Count de Fois, his de­sire then to revenge this affront, and to regaine this County from Charles made him offer this marriage which tooke no effect as wee shall see.

The Pope and all the other Princes of Christendome, continued in the desire of making a peace betweene these two Kings, to the which they thought the expences they had beene at, and the reciprocall evills they had suffered would make them more inclinable; to this pur­pose an Assembly was appointed at Tours, whither came most of the Princes of the blood, and those who came not sent their substitute, a­mongst w ch the Duke of Burgony sent his; for Henry came William Poole, Earle of Suffolke, Doctor Adam Mollins Lord Keeper, the Lord Robert Rosse and others, for Charles the Duke of Orleans, Lodovick of Burbone, [Page 125] Count de Vandosme, and Monsieur de Pesigni, but meeting with the wonted difficulties not likely to be ended in a short time; A truce for 18. moneths was concluded, by which meanes they hoped they might meet with the necessary expedients for the desired peace, some report that upon this occasiō Henry demanded Margaret of Aniou daugh­ter to Renatus King of Scicily, for wife w ch was not so: for his marriage with the daughter of Count Armignack was at that time thought as good as concluded; her fathers performance of his promises being only expected for the consummating thereof, the onely moover in the other was the Earle of Suffolke, who did it of his owne head, not ac­quainting any of his Colleagues therewithall, and wherein hee did too boldly exceede his instructions, if hee did it out of beleefe, that this new allyance by blood was requisite, to the joyning of their mindes, he was much too blame, for if consanguinitie be of no mo­ment amongst Princes, when particuler interest is in question, much lesse affinitie, if not, Henry being the sonne of Charles his sister, no tie save that of father could more strictly have united them, so as it did not much import that the Queene of France should bee Aunt by the Fathers side to her whom he should marry, since Charles was Vncle to himselfe by the mothers side: what was credited was, that the Earle did this to advance himselfe, by meanes of this Lady intended by him for wife to Henry without any further respect. The conclusion was that the King of Scicily should have all restored unto him, which did patrimonially belong unto him in Aniou and Maine, and which were now enjoyed by the King of England, so as it was not sufficient that this unlucky marriage should neither bring profit with it, nor any hopes thereof, but that to make it on all sides disadvantagious, hee should endow his father in law with these countries which had beene wonne at expence of blood, and which for safety and reputation ought to be unallienable from the Crowne of England, but the fate (if any such thing there be) which led him unto ruine was in-evita­ble, for the Eàrle of Suffolke being returned to England figured forth this match as a meanes to end the warres, to procure peace, and make the Kingdome happy, whereby he blinded the Councell, and pain­ted forth the Lady in the most lovely colours that beauty could bee set forth in, and in conditions the most sublime that might become a Princesse (whereby hee allured Henry) so as though no man did approve of it, as thinking it good, some seemed to approve of it, not to displease Suffolke, and all to please the King, who was per­swaded to it; for it is dangerous for such as councell Princes, to have more regard to the Prince his profit, then to the humoring of him in his affections. Which were it otherwise Princes would be too happy, and peradventure not acknowledged: God the author thereof, who doth therefore counterpoise the power of their might with the impo­tency of their passions. The Duke of Glocester was hee alone who to his cost opposed it, thinking the former intended match not fit to be broken, as well for that it was amisse to faile the Count Armignac, as likewise that his alliance was more advantagious and of more pregnant hopes, of honorable atchievements, whereas the other [Page 126] brought nothing with it, but losse, the Citie of Mens, Mayne, and that part of the Dutchy of Aniou, which Henry possessed serving as a Bul­warke to Normandy, did to the first losse of their surrendring adde a second of weakning the affaires in France; which ought to be main­tained in their full force to the end that the treatie of peace might bee made upon the better termes, but all these reasons were to no end, since the heavens had decreed that the Duke should for this cause loose his life, the King his life and state, the Crowne all that it possest abroad, and the kingdome that peace at home which till then it had in­joyed. When Charles understood that Henry was herewithall conten­ted, he sent unto him the Count de Vandosme, a Prince of the blood and the Archbishop of Rheins, who concluded the match; the more to honour this unfortunate marriage, Henry created three Dukes and one Marquesse, he made Iohn Holland Earle of Huntington, Duke of Excester; Humphrey Earle of Stafford, Duke of Buckingham; Henry Earle of Warwicke, Duke of Warwicke; and the Earle of Suffolke, who was the authour thereof Marquesse of Suffolke, and for his further ho­nour made him his deputy, to celebrate the formality of espousall, and to bring his bride over into England.

He went then, and had with him his wife, and a great many of Ladies and Gentlemen, carriages, and letters for her father, who 1445. was rich in titles of imaginary kingdomes, as of Scicily and Ierusalem; had not meanes to send her to her husband; so as all the charge which was very vast fell to Henries share; being come to Tours hee married her in the name of his master, in the presence of the King of France. The Queene and a great number of Princes and Lords, amongst which were the Dukes of Orleans, Calabria, Alanson, and Brittany: the marriage was solemnized with feasts and tilting, after which with the like or better, shee was married by Henry in England, and crowned Queene; Normandy lay openly exposed by the surrendring of the two Provinces. Count Armignac was scandalized, and shortly like­ly to revenge himselfe: the kingdome was fallen into an Abisse, from whence it was not to be raised but by the death of the King, the ru­ine of the Queene, the desolation of the house of Lancaster, the de­struction of the Nobility, the rebellion of the people, and the altera­tion of the State.

This seperation of Armes caused the Duke of Yorke and many other Commanders returne to England, that they might consult of what 1446 provisions were to be made before the expiration of the truce, to the end that Normandy being well fortified, Charles might be brought to a well conditioned peace, and if not that they might be able to make a powerfull warre. But England did in this an evill mannager, who having a house covered with Lead, sells the Lead, and then covers it againe with straw, to the end that a sparke of Fire by reason of this new covering may be sufficient to set it on fire; the given Provinces were the Lead sould, and prodigally squandred; the provisions for Normandy, the thatching over with straw (the two Provinces might have entertained the warre, and being lost have advanced time, which is the father of the changes of fortune, for losse in warre doth seldom [Page 127] happen in one action and at one instant.) To this purpose a Parliament was called, subsidies paid, Souldiers raised, and the Duke of Som­merset made a Regent of France, in stead of the Duke of Yorke, the Mar­quesse of Suffolke, (were it either to boast of his favours, or that hee foresaw the future danger) made a long speech in the upper house, relating his ownemerits, in the making of this truce, and this match, and advertising the Lords, that since the truce expired the next Aprill, and peace did not ensue, they should doe well to take such order, as that Normandy might not be endamaged, for it was to be beleeved that the French finding it ill provided would make use of their advantage, that having advertised the King thereof, he did now the like to them; to the end that if any evill did happen, it should not be said to have beene for want of any good admonition, he desired them in discharge of his innocency to thinke on this; the same thing was done the next day in the lower house, the Messengers whereof entreated the Lords of the upper house, that by joynt consent of both houses this present action might be registred amongst the acts of Parliament; hee obtained what he desired, the favours of favorites being like to little Rivolets, which easily glide into the current waters, even of the grea­test rivers, they sent their Speaker to the upper house, where the Lords who did likewise waver with the wind, did on their knees be­seech the King, that in respect of great services done by the Marquesse he would vouchsafe him this, and whatsoever other favour, for that he could not bestow his graces upon a more worthy subject and the King who of himselfe was wonderfull prodigall of his favours to him, and loved to be entreated thereunto, as not willing to seeme to doe it, of his owne inclination answered them in such a manner, as every one might see he made him the haven of his favours, and the object of other mens respects, the action was registred, but not with that successe as was hoped for, to witnesse that the peoples and Prin­ces favours are of short duration, and oftentimes unfortunate, hee shortly after created him Duke, he gave him two rich wardships; that of the countesse of Warwick, and of Margaret the daughter of Iohn Duke of Summerset, who was afterwards the mother of Henry the seventh; hee likewise at his request created Iohn de Fois, Count de Longaville, and Captaine de Bus, Count de Candale both of them Guas­cons, all these favours served onely to make his downe-fall the more sudden, which usually doth not faile being caused either by the ha­tred of private men, or of the Prince, for such mens insolencies encrea­sing with their authorities, and their authorities growing greater by their favour, they become insupportable, and having once offended, cannot support themselves but by new offences, whereby begetting hatred and envie amongst private men, and societie in Princes they must needs fall and be overthrowne, either by the one or the other.

According to Articles of marriage all places belonging to Aniou and Mayne, were already surrendred except Manns, the which being of more importance then the rest, Charles did beleeve they had no intention to deliver it up, so as having raised a convenient Army he prepared to have it by force, which when Henry understood he gave [Page 128] order that it should be forthwith surrendered unto him, not so much for that he should not have just cause to breake the truce, as that by ju­stice he was to doe it. But Chartier and Monstrellet say, that the English held it till the yeare 1449. at which time Charles besieged it: and that the Lord Privy Seale being chosen Bishop of Winchester caused it to be yeelded up unto him, but how ever it were this cessation from Armes wrought the like effects in England, as in a healthfull body the forbearing of moderate exercises doth, which by filling it with bad humours bringeth infirmities upon it. The natures of the late mar­ried couple were, if not opposite, sufficiently differing; the husband was of a womanish inclination, the wife of a manlike spirit; the King was humbled, evout, spiritually given, caring onely for his soules health: the Queene was proud, ambitious, worldly given, and not to be quieted till having brought the kingdome to be governed as shee pleased; shee might see her selfe free from Rivals in the government. The Duke of Glocester was no wayes pleasing to her, as well for that he had opposed her marriage (an injury not to be forgotten) as like­wise that her husband being long since out of his minority was still governed by him as formerly when he was under age; the which being observed by such as did not love the Duke, they let slip no occasion whereby they might worke his ruine. The Marquesse of Suffolke for that he could not rise to the height hee aymed at, during his life▪ Humphrey Stafford Duke of Buckingham, for that being sonne of Anne Plantaginet, who was descended from Thomas Duke of Glocester, the seventh sonne of Edward the third, if the Duke were out of the way he should be the first Duke of England, wherefore hee thought that this prerogative, and his being couzen to the King, would cause his advancement; the Cardinall of Winchester by reason of his emula­tion which their reciprocall hatred had kindled, not to be quenched but by the last of revenges. The Archbishop of Yorke for that Gloce­ster having declared himselfe his enemy, in his last accusations he was desirous (though not according to the Gospell) to render him evill for evill, but his eminency and universall love had rendred all their designes vaine, had they not come assisted by the Lawes. They accused him at the Councell Table of many faults, of all which he did with such sinceritie acquit himselfe, as that hee freed the Councells minde from any the least scruple, and used such arguments as did adde to his reputation. They objected unto him that he had caused many to be put to death contrary to the Lawes of the Kingdome, inferring thereby that hatred and cruelty had beene the directors of his justice, whilst that whereby they were most scandalized, was that hee could not indure wicked men.

These forenamed men, together with them, the Queene perceiving that nothing was done, caused a Parliament to be called at Berry in 1447. Suffolke, whither hee came, together with the rest of the Peers, not dreaming of any evill; relying more upon his owne integrity then by reason of the others malice he ought to have done. The first day of Parliament passed over quietly, spent in the accustomed ceremo­nies, the second day he was made prisoner by the Lord high Consta­ble [Page 129] of England, accompanied by the Duke of Buckingham and many others, a guard was set upon him, his servants were all taken from him whereof 32. were imprisoned; and hee not long after (Hale saith the very next night) was found dead in his bed, some affirming, that he dyed of an Apoplexie, some of an Imposthume in his Head, but al­though there was no doubt, but that his death was violent; yet did no man know of what sort, some thought hee was strangled, some stiffeled betweene two pillowes, and many, that hee had a red hot spit thrust in at his fundament; five of the prisoners were examined and condemned, but as they were carrying to execution they were set at liberty by the Marquesse of Suffolke, who brought their pardon signed by the King; which did not satisfie the people, for the saving of these mens innocency did not salve the treason used to the Duke. By a pardon given to one of his servants, may bee seene the pretence they tooke to commit this Murther, where it is said, that hee was one of the many Traitors who came in the traine of Humphery Duke of Glocester to destroy the King, and set his Wife Elianor at liberty. The death of this Prince was lamented by the whole Kingdome, from whom hee deserved the surname of good; for so in effect, hee was a lover his Countrey a Friend to good men, a Protector of the lear­ned, whereof hee himselfe was one, as well verst in the lawes of the Kingdome as whatsoever Lawyer, and if hee erred in his enmity with the Duke of Burgony, and the Cardinall of Winchester 'twas through the greatnes of his Spirit, the which if it bereave not of fault, doth at least deminish the blame, for all humanity is subject to errour. After him the title of Glocester was reputed ominous; for the foure last Glo­cesters came to violent ends. Thomas Duke of Glocester sonne to Edward the third was strangled at Callais, Thomas Spencer Earle of Glocester beheaded at Berry, Humphery Duke of Glocester dead as you have heard, and Richard Duke of Glocester slaine in a Battell of civill Warre after hee was King by the name of Richard the third, as wee shall see. I doe not withstanding beleeve, that if occasion bee offered, no man will refuse the honour; since before these unfortunate foure, there were cleaven of that title, nine of which dyed naturall deaths; the other two Ieffery Mandeville, and Gilbert Clare slaine in turnament: the first in warre, the other before Sterline; so as they are not to bee rancked with the last foure: since their deaths hapned through malice or ci­vill warre. The Cardinall of Winchester enjoyed not the content of this his death above 14. or 16. dayes for hee dyed to see the ruine of his house of the which hee was the chieefest raiser, for doubtlesse if Glocester had lived; the Duke of Yorke had not risen, and the Queene who by his death thought to have established her authority, lost thereby all shee could loose (her life excepted) her Husband, sonne, and Kingdome, for her ignorance in things to come threw her headlong upon those evils which at the price of her owne bloud, shee would willingly have redeemed together with the life of Glocester, but too late foresight brings repentance; remedies not.

Having by so cruell a way obtained her desire, shee employ'd all 1448. [Page 130] her endeavours how to establish an authority which under her Hus­bands name might make her absolute in the Kingdome, she raised Suf­folke from Marquesse to Duke, which title he but a shorte time enjoyed, for fortune of her owne nature inconstant is much the more so, when her favours are conferr'd without merit. The Duke of Yorke who saw that all these things redounded to the advancement of his designes, slipt not his occasions, for laying open to his friends, and the male contents in how bad a condition the Kingdome was, the King weake and governed by a Woman, under the haughty direction of the Duke of Suffolke, it was easie for him to perswade them to establish him in his owne right, since the house of Lancaster did usurpe the Crowne, and held it contrary to the lawes of the Kingdome; the lawes of bloud and nature, this hee did with so much vehemency insinuate, so oppor­tunely and to people who desired nothing more then change, as it was easie for him to draw unto him subjects of the most eminent condition, who that they might have followers and preferments were apt to uphold him. To this was added the greatnes of his family, and the family of his wife; Cicelli Nevill by both which hee was allied to the greatest men and chiefest families of the Kingdome; his repu­tation wonne in France, but chiefely his right unto the Crowne in a time, when if hee had no right they might have imagined some in him, so to withdrawe themselves from the Government of an imperious Woman and a proud favorite who ruling all as they li­sted, and excluding all others made use of the authority of a weake King who had nothing of Prince in him but name. This was the first stone which Richard Plantagenet Duke of Yorke laid in the ground­worke of the generall ruine and ruine, of himselfe, wherein did no lesse appeare the common consent, by the secresie in such a busines of great importance which was inviolabely observed, then the ill satisfaction given by such as governed, who were not aware that by alienating such as ought to have depended upon them, and not spying into their actions, nor making use of liberality and hopes, (things usuall in him who knowes how to governe) they were of necessity to fall, but on the contrary they trusted every one whilest they dis­contented all and minded not any friendship, beleeving the bare name of King to bee sufficient, whilest weakenes and simplicity made the King to bee despised, and them hated, who made use there­of.

The first day of Aprill 1447. the truce expired and the desire of peace prorogu'd it till the first of Iune 1449. when an accident brake forth which interrupted the quiet, and quite dasht the hopes of a conceived peace: Duke Francis the first who was comprehended in the truce, raigned in Britanny, and Francis Surianne named the Arroganne who for services done to the Crowne of England had de­served the order of the Garter, was Governour in low Normandy, his Garrisons namely those of Saint Iaques and Beveronne, had by reason of their commerce discovered the weakenes of the neighbouring frontier Townes, especially of Tongeresse in Britanni, the which being rich and ill guarded was by the Arragon scaled by night and taken [Page 131] together with the Castle, not without the marke of much cruelty and avarice, for to boote with the breach of truce; and the taking of other mens goods in a time, when in all reason they ought not to have done so, they slew many of the Inhabitants and pilladged all they had, giving more scandall by the circumstances then by the deed it selfe. Duke Francis complained hereof by a Herauld to the Duke of Somerset, requiring of him amends for the injury and the restitution of the place, together with what was taken from thence. Somerset cooly replied, that the accident displeased him, that hee did approve thereof, and that hee should make such satisfaction as hee should thinke fit; Francis was herewithall no whit pleased, but represented his in­jury to Charles as done unto his Majesty, requiring aide at his hands, affirming hee was resolved to re-have his owne by the way of Armes, with him to force it, hee forthwith dispatcht away Messengers to England, and Normandy: making his complaints and received the like answer as formerly the Duke had done. And Somerset sent unto him two Knights (one of which were Sir Iohn Hungerford) affirming by them that the action displeased him, as being blamefull and done without his knowledge, but reparation for the injury and satisfaction for what was taken away being demanded, they said they had no other order, but to endeavour that all places as well of the one side as the other should remaine according to the truce in their former secresie. To the which Charles replied, that if the Duke of Somerset were really sorry for what had hapned, hee should doe well to shew it by making amends, for the injury done, which if hee should not doe hee would faile his Nephew the Duke of Britanny, and therefore hee would not bee tyed to secure any place, nor was it reason, that being injured and endamaged, hee should bee denied revenge; since hee was allied in bloud to the greatest Princes and Lords of his King­dome. That Somerset should minde his owne affaires, for so would hee doe, since it was but reason that the English having possest them­selves of what was anothers in time of truce: the offended party might bee free from any tye of obligation, and allowed to recent the injury received. Hungerford not knowing how to answer him, desired him to send some body to Sonniers a Towne belonging unto Charles, whither the Duke of Somerset would likewise send some o­ther.

Charles willingly did this, but hee sent thither Monsieur de Cowlant, and two others; but whilest they were treating with Somersets de­puties, Monsieur de Bresse Captaine of Sonniers, in company with Monsieur de Manni, Robert Hacquet, and Iames Claremont, tooke Pont d'Arc; being therein assisted by a Marchant who wonted to goe from one place to another, and therefore well knowne, was got to the Gate upon breake of day with a Cart, wherein were two Souldiers ap­parelled like Carpenters, and called for the Gate to bee opened, the which being done, hee stayed his Cart upon the draw Bridge, and faining to take out some mony to reward them, hee let a peece of silver fall, which the keeper of the Gate stooping to take up, he was slaine before hee could raise himselfe againe by the two Souldiers, [Page 132] and together with him an Englishman that came to open the Gate at the same time, the forenamed Captaines came from forth their ambush, and with their followers entered the Towne; they tooke sixscore English prisoners in their beds, amongst which the Lord of Faulconbridge the Commander of the Towne (whom Argentres be­leeves to bee a Dutchman came thither the night before) and sent them all to Sonniers, this accident displeased the English, but Charles liked it well; of whom restitution being demanded: hee replied, hee would willingly doe it, when Tongerres with all the Losses and interests thereof should bee restored to the Duke of Britanny. The which the English could not doe for the losses and interests of the Towne were irreparable, life could not bee restored to them that were slaine, and the spoiles estimated at 1600000. Crownes were diversly disposed of by them, that tooke them and emborsed them that were the Au­thors or Permitters thereof. This inconvenience could not have hapned in a better time; for Charles being enformed of the Duke of Glocesters death, the Nobilities division, the Kings weakenes, and the Queenes detasted government; hee thought it a fitting time to drive the English out of France: yet moved hee not suddenly, to the end that the breach of truce might bee on his side justifiable, hee made a confederacy with the Duke of Britanny; with an obligation of re­ciprocall assistance by Sea and Land, and under the name of the Duke of Britanny (Charles consenting thereunto) Gerbory was taken by Monsieur de Mony, and as many as were found there, put to the sword. Conques by Robert Hocquet; Coingnac, and Saint Magrine neare Burdeaux in Gascony by Verdenne. Somerset complained of these inva­sions to Charles and required restitution, answer was made that hee wondered, that the English who had taken Tongerres in time of truce, without any occasion given, and without restoring, should pretend the Duke of Britanny unjustly injured: should restore what by just re­prisall hee had taken from them. At last they came to conference in the Abbey of Boneport, the which prooving fruitlesse, Charles resol­ved to make open warre, and it succeeded well unto him; for not ha­ving before any designe upon Vernuille, hee understood that upon day breake it was surprised by Peter Bresse and Iames Claremont: by the meanes of a Miller who was Sentinell there, of 120. English, that were there; some were slaine, the rest fled into the Castle out of the Ditches, whereof the water being drained by the same Miller after a great assault it was taken by force, and those who remained alive retired themselves into a strong Tower called Legrize, a part from the Castle and beguirt with a deepe Ditch full of water, and which was not to bee taken, but for want of victualls. The Dunnesse was come to assist him in this siege, but hearing that Talbot came to the succour, hee went to encounter him: Talbot hearing thereof withdrew him­selfe to Harecourt, so as they both failed in their designes, the one in succouring the Towne, the other in giving battell. At this same time came Count Saint Paul into the field with 4000. horse, hee tooke Norgent by composition, from thence passing by Ponte d [...] Are in com­pany with Count de Eu, hee marched on Honnefleur side to Ponte de [Page 133] Mare, whilest the Dunnesse marched on the other side the River Riule. By joynt agreement, they assailed that Towne, each of them on their side, after long contestation taking it by force, and the English who had retired themselves into a strong house on the townes end, were constrained to yeeld themselves prisoners; Lizeux by the Bishops meanes yeelded it selfe before they came neere it, so as the Inhabi­tants received no damage, nor yet the neighbouring places who fol­lowed the example thereof. Saint Iaques de Beveron battered by Monsieur de [...], and valiantly defended, was yeelded up; the lawes and goods of the inhabitants saved: The Tower Gryse of which wee have spoken, after a few dayes did the like; there being but 30. Soul­diers in it, the Garrison of Mantes would defend themselves, but the Inhabitants seeing Charles neere at hand; and that the Dunnesse had ap­peared before it with 6000. men, made good certaine stations against the English, who having enemies without and within yeelded, and Charles his people entered the Towne to secure them, from them without, who pretended to sack it. The Castle of Laigni was by the Captaine betrayed, and those of the Garrison made prisoners; Vernon yeelded it selfe, the Inhabitants whereof would not defend themselves, so as the Garrison having it, witnessed under their hands that they were abandoned, came forth with their weapons and baggage, and the Towne was given to Charles by the Dunnesse in consideration of his service; the French forces were divided into foure armies commanded by the Duke of Britanny, the Dunnesse, the Counts de Eu, and Saint Paul, and by the Duke d' Allanson; besides the Launces and Archers which waited upon Charles his person, so as it is no wonder, if for the most part they wonne it at first sight since not­withstanding the forces, the Inhabitants inclinations did decline from the English party; the Castle of Aniou yeelded as soone as som­moned, by meanes of a Portugall who was Governour thereof, who Charles left in the same charge in recompence of his service unfaith­fully performed to his former Master: Gourney yeelded upon the like tearmes, Rocheguione commanded by Iohn Hovell an Englishman was surrendered with liberty to the English Garrison, and leave for himselfe to enjoy his wives lands, who was a French woman and to continue still Captaine of some Castle; the French now thinking, that they lost too much time by keeping all in one body. The two Counts de Eu and Saint Paul went to besiege Chasteaunent de Nicourt, they tooke the Towne by assault and the Castle upon conditions in 15. dayes, the Dunnesse besieged Chasteau, Cambresse, which yeelded in seaven dayes space; Le Chasteau de Harecourt bargained to doe the like if it were not succoured within a prefixt time which it was not: Iammes yeelded suddenly. Argenteu defended it selfe, but the Inha­bitants having drawne the enemy into the Towne, the English reti­red into the Castle, which having a breach made in it by the cannon, they got into a tower, from whence they came forth with white trun­cheous in their hands; the Duke of Britanny accompanied by his Un­cle, the Constable having left Peter of Britanny his brother upon the frontiers of Tongerres and Arranches with 300. Launces for de­fence [Page 134] of the Country) entered into Normandy, hee came before Con­stances, where when hee had tarried but one day, the Citizens forced the Garrison to depart, they themselves remaining in the same con­dition as before the warre. St. Lo. Hommet, Nentreill, Tonigny, Benterill, Hambre, Mota, da Eres (que) Haie, Chantelon, Auney, and other like places compounded; upon the like tearmes Carentesse held out three dayes, the Garrison afterwards marching out with a Truncheon in their hands, and the inhabitants set at liberty, Ponte D'ovey and Ga [...]rey were taken by assault, the Duke d' Alansonne entred thereinto, and the Eng­lish withdrew themselves into the Castle, but they made but short abode there.

Fortune this meane while (as if shee ment to undoe England on all sides) raised a rebellion in Ireland, which though it did no harme (for the Duke of Yorke was sent thither who appeased it) yet the evill not caused by the Mallady, was occasioned by the Phisition; for the Duke having quieted the tumults, wonne so much of friend­ship in that kingdome, that for his sake they forsooke the King to fol­low the house of Yorke; to the which they did ever after passionately adhere. Charles was then at Sonniers, whither the King of Scicily, and Count du Maine his brother being come unto him, with fresh supply of men, he resolved to pursue his fortune in totally driving the English out of Normandy; hee gave order for the besieging of Chasteau Galli­arde, this place was built upon a rocke, upon the River, not to bee lost but by famishing, the Seneschall of Poictou pitch his Campe be­fore it, whither Charles came shortly after himselfe in person; this meane while the Duke of Alansonne tooke Grisney upon composition, and Sir Richard Marbury Governour of Glizors who had married a French woman, made his peace by his brothers meanes, tooke his oath of Allegiance to Charles, betrayed his honour, kingdome and King, that without ransome he might re-have two sonnes which were taken at Ponte de Mere, and that he might enjoy his wives patrimony, and be captaine of Saint Iermans in Say: wealth being more powerfull with him then any sense of honour; there remained no place of im­portance in all Normandy except Rhoan her metropolitan, which did not take part with Charles; hee assembled all his Forces to take it in being come to Ponte de Ar [...], hee sent his Heralds to summon it to allea­giance, but the English would not suffer them to doe their office; fea­ring least the people might mutiny. The Dunnesse who was come be­fore it, perceiving no commotion in the Citie, and annoyed by per­petuall raine and sallyes, after three dayes returned to Ponte d' Arc. Those of Rhoan this meane while, having made themselves masters of two townes (by whose entre-pressed curtaine they might give him entry) recalled him, whereupon hee returned, and some 40. of his men having entred the towne by Scal [...]do, they were surprised by Tal­bot who (though plaid upon from the towne) slew the greatest part of them, and drove the rest from the walls. The slaughter of the Townes men, then of the assailants, the Rampard betweene the two townes was covered with blood and dead bodies, besides those who in throwing themselves from the Towers broke their limbes, or lost [Page 135] their lives, but this incounter in appearance little favourable to Charles, was that which brought him the victory, for the Citizens fearing least that the English resolute in defence of the towne might make them runne hazard of their lives, resolved together with the Archbishop come what come would to surrender, so as presenting themselves before the Duke of Sommerset; and acquainting him with the danger that the Citie was in, and with their resolution; they de­manded the surrendring thereof, hee willingly would have delayed and have punished them, but having enemies without and within hee seemed to be therewithall content. The chiefe captaines, together with the Archbishop went to Ponte d' Arc, offered to surrender the citie, demanding leave for those to depart who would the preserva­tion of their goods, who remained; and free passage for the English and their goods; the which being granted, and relation thereof made in the towne house, it pleased the inhabitants, but not the Duke, who go­ing from thence, caused all his men take Armes and made himselfe strong at the Bridge, in the Pallace and in the Castle, the which when the Citizens saw they did the like, and placing strong guards every where they advertised the King, offered to throw open the gates unto him, drive backe such English as were fallen into the Citie, and [...]lew some seven or eight of them: nor yet contented herewithall they made themselves masters of the walls, turrets, and gates. Upon this com­motion the Dunnesse came thither, and seeing the Citie defended by Citizens, he placed himselfe before Saint Katherines, demanding the surrender thereof, the Captaine thereof when hee had not above 120. Souldiers, and who knew the King was comming thither with his Cannon yeelded. They were by a Herauld led to the gate S. Owen, where meeting with the King; he advised them to use no violence by the way, but to pay for what they should take; and answer being made that they had no money, he caused tenne pound to bee given them, being come to Rhoane he alledged in the aforesaid Fort of St. Katherines, whilst the Keyes of the Citie were presented to the Dun­nesse, as he was with all his Army in battle array before the gate Mar­tinville, the troopes which he brought in, tooke their stand before the Castle, and the Pallace guarded by 1200. Souldiers, and kept by the Duke and Talbot. The Duke had quit the bridge, and was too late aware of his ill advisement in excluding himselfe from the Cities capitulation, whilst he had neither strength to defend it nor to punish it, he desired to speake with Charles who yeelded thereunto, he de­sired he might be permitted to depart according to the capitulation agreed upon by the Citie, the King replyed he was not comprehen­ded in that capitulation since he himselfe had broken it by revolting against the Citie, by endeavouring to hinder the surrender thereof, and by fortifying himselfe in the Pallace and in the Castle, actions contrary to that agreement which he pretended to make use of, that it behooved him to pay for this by surrendring of Honneflour, Harflour, and all the country of Caux, if he would have his liberty, to the which the Duke consented not, but returned much confused to his former station. The Pallace was besieged, it had gates without and within [Page 136] the Citie, but it was impossible to get out, for that without was straightly guarded, the like was done unto the Castle, and nothing but giving fire unto the Ordnance already adjusted against them both, was wanting to enforce them: to boote with this they had but little victuals, many mouthes, and small hopes. The duke desired a second hearing, the King granted it, he was received by the Heraulds, and at comming forth of the Citie met by Count Cleremont, eldest sonne to the Duke of Burbone, his demands being the same as formerly. Charles his answer was likewise the same, so as the Duke was much blamed as being too impudently obstinate, he had no reason to looke for better capitulation since his condition grew worse, he thought it was bootelesse to importune the King the third time, therefore for­ced by necessitie he spoke with the Dunnesse, from whom hee obtained a truce till the 24. of October, which was prorogu'd 12. dayes, from day to day, in all which time granting what he had denyed to doe, to wit, the forenamed townes, and denying what was not before requi­red of him, the delivery up of the Earle of Shrewsbury in hostage for the performance of his promises, it was at last concluded that he, his wife children and souldiers, as well of the Pallace as of the Castle should goe their wayes, their lives and goods saved, that he should set at liberty such prisoners as should be found with him, that hee should not carry away with him his greatest peeces of Ordnance, that hee should pay unto the King within the space of one yeare next comming 50000. Crownes to the Dunnesse, and those that joyned with him in the conclusion of the treaty 6000. that hee should satisfie all debts ought by him, or his in the Citie, and that he should deliver up into the Kings hands, or his Commissioners Angues, Candale, Tanchervelle, Bon-Isle, Honnefleur and Monstrevilliers; that he should oblige himselfe hereunto by hand writing, and give hostages thereupon; the chiefe whereof should be Talbot, the Earle of Shrewsbury. The townes were restored except Honneflour, the which the Governour thereof refused to surrender, which caused the detainement of Talbot, and the rest of the hostages, whilst these things were treated of at Rhoan, the Duke of Brittany made himselfe master of Tongerres, after having besieged it above a moneth, so as having battered it, and being ready to assault it; Francis Surian who did defend it, together with five or six hundred English yeelded it up, their Armes and Horses saved, and not permitted to carry any thing out, save each of them a little bundle. Hee who had beene cause of the violation of truce, whereby so many mischiefes were occasioned, betooke himselfe to the French side; I know not whether fearing his owne safetie or some lesse excusable cause. The Duke of Alansonne besieged Bleeme, a place which patrimonially did belong unto him, and which for some dayes was stoutly defended, they articled to surrender if they were not succoured by the twentieth of December; this was the clematericall yeare to England, seven mul­tiplyed it by it selfe, producing 49. which after so many losses, ended with the losse of Harflore; the King went thither in person the third of October, Cannons and Mines brought it, to parly on Christmas eve, and on Christmas day it yeelded, those of the Garrison were fur­nished [Page 137] with shipping to transport them, and had safe conduct by land, together with their weapons and goods, the Souldiers without suf­fered much in this short siege, for the season was very violent in raine and inundations, so as the waters entered into all the Huts through­out the whole Campe; this notwithstanding they willingly under­went all incommodities, seeing the King expose himselfe to all dan­gers, his example made them willing to suffer with him; the onely way to infuse patience into the French, for being led on by their King they out did themselves, doing that under his command, which under anothers had beene impossible for them to doe; and because wee have diciphered this King else where with affections, much differing from these present actions, wee must cite Hallian for our discharge, who will free us from reproach telling what happened in the yeare 1445. he falls upon these words.

‘In the concourse of so many affaires the King suffering himselfe to be transported by pleasures, fell in love with a Gentlewoman belonging to the Queene his wife, called Agneta Sorrell borne in Onvergne, a Lady so faire, as shee acquired the name of Agneta the faire, and to the end that shee might have the title, the King gave her during her life le Chasteau de Beante, neare to the Boys de Saint Vincent; and caused there to be erected that great Pavillion which at this day is there to be seene all covered. When shee was called the Lady of Beauty; the King had by her foure daughters, all married into good houses of this Kingdome, though some say hee had but one married to Monsieur de Bresse.’

Of Normandy and others; That she lived not long, and that the King did not avow her for his, but though the affection the King bore her lessened his due respects unto his wife, and tooke from her much of of the rights of marriage, yet was she faine to swallow this bitter pill and patiently permit the faire Agneta enjoy the best of her husbands affections: 'tis said that when she saw the King carelesse, effeminate, not minding the affaires of his kingdome, nor the victories which the English wonne; she one day said unto him, that ‘when she was a very young girle, she was told by an Astrologer that she should be belo­ved by one of the most couragious and most valiant Kings of Christendome, and that when she had the honour to be beloved by him, shee thought hee had beene that valiant and couragious King foretold by the Astrologer, but seeing him so soft natured, not min­ding his affaires, normaking head against the English, and Henry their King, who before his face had taken so many Cities of his, shee ve­ry well perceived she was deceived, and that this valiant couragi­ous King could be none other but the King of England, and there­fore said shee, I will goe finde him out, for he is that King foretold me by the Astrologer, and not you, who neither have courage nor valour, since you suffer your kingdome to be lost and doe not resent it.’ These words pronounced by her, whom he loved better then hee should have done, did so touch him to the quicke as that ‘hee fell a weeping, and awakening himselfe, tooke courage upon him, gave not himselfe so much to hunting and dalliance as hee was wont, so [Page 138] as by his good fortune, and the valour of his good Commanders who faithfully served him, he drove the English out of all France, Cal­lis excepted.’ I was desirous to place here the words of this Historian, not so much to shew that I did not lie in my other contrary descripti­ons, as that it being my dutie to praise vertue and blame vice, I have done it in their due places, as every writer ought to doe particularly where they speake of Princes, to the end that those who are alive may thereby be admonished, that when they are dead the same rules will be observed in the writing of their story.

The affaires in Guienne.

Though they did not precipitate so fast of as those off Normandy, Guichus a strong Castle, foure leagues distant from Bayone, was besie­ged with a formall army by Monsieur de Lantree, brother to the Count, and Bastard de Fois; 4000. English went to succour it, and that their comming might be the more unlooked for, they embarked themselves in the River that passeth by Bayone, and landed not farre from Guis­ches; Lantree who by spies was enformed of their designe left the siege, and treated them as they thought to have treated him, for they not dreaming of being discovered, were taken at such unawares as not having time to put themselves in order, they fled towards their Barques, were followed by the enemy and 1200. of them slaine. George Stapleton one of their Commanders mistrusting to escape by flight, passed through the middest of the enemy, and was followed by 600. Launces, who valiantly fighting saved themselves within Gueschin; but it did but little availe him, for the towne being blockt up, and no body to succour it, he departed at unawares with his men, hoping to get into Bayone, but being followed by the Bastard de Fois, hee and many of his men were taken prisoners; the Castle was yeel­ded up the next day, and therewithall all the country which lies be­tweene Auxe and Bayone, wherein was contained 15. or 16. strong holds which afterwards caused to the French the more easie winning of whole Guascony.

Charles did not forbeare to prosecute his designes in Normandy, for all the frost and cold in Ianuary; hee sent the Dunnesse to besiege 1450. Honnefleur, whither hee afterwards came in person, and was lodged in an Abbey not farre from thence; valiant was the defence, and fu­rious the onset, wherein neither wit nor labour was wanting. The towne articled to surrender, if they should not bee succoured by the eighteenth of February; but the Duke of Sommerset not daring to trust the Citizens with Caan, which if he had done, wanting men to re­sist the French Forces, Honnefleur was enforced to runne the same for­tune the other townes did. Iearnsy yeelded, and paid downe 10000. peeces of gold, not so much that the Garrison might be suffered free with their goods, as for the ransome of Momfort their Captaine not long before taken at Ponte de Meere. This meane while the English though at variance at home, sent Sir Thomas Terrill into France, a re­nouned Captaine, and who had beene trayned up in these warres from [Page 139] his youth, but being landed at Cherreburgh with 1500. men he could doe no good with so small a number; and though in a short time hee tooke in Liseux and Valonges, the matter was not so much, since the enemy being severally busied else where, had not leasure to divert them; hee added to his number certaine troopes, drawne out of the few townes, which yet remained to the English, conducted by Sir Henry Mowbery, Sir Robert Vere, and Sir Robert Gough; which in all made us 5000. with these he judged it best onely to march towards Caen, whi­ther all the enemies Forces were bent to besiege it, and in case hee should be met withall to fight as he did, for being come to Iermingy, a place betweene Carenten and Baieux, on the 18. of Aprill, they were met by Count Cleremont the Admirall of France, and the Senesshall of Poictou with 600. horse, and 6000. foote; they fell to blowes, and va­liantly was the battell fought, till the Count Richmont comming in with fresh men, the English were defeated, 4000. of them slaine, 800. taken prisoners, amongst which Terrill, Mowberry, and Sir Thomas Drue, Vere, and Gough; with the small remainder saved themselves; this is the relation made by the English.

Monstrelet saith the French had but 600. Launces, besides their bow­men, whose number hee doth not specifie (but as we shall see every of his Launces proved foure, and all on horsebacke) that the English pitcht their Swords & Daggers against the ground, to the end that the enemies horse might thred themselves thereon, they that were got­ten into an advantagious place, with a little River and many Gar­dens full of trees at their backes, so as they could not be set upon be­hind, and that Count Claremont having with him but a small number of men, sent speedily to the Constable at Saint Lo, to come and suc­cour him, who came thither with 240. horse, and 800. Archers, that being come to a mill where the English had beaten backe 1500. Ar­chers, and wonne two Culverins he set upon them, overcame them, and slew 3770. of them, and tooke 1400. prisoners. I will not relate what others write hereof, but onely what is set downe in the Chro­nicles of Normandy printed in Rhoan, the yere 1581. no authors name set there, the w ch I cite in other places because it particularly appertaines to the Province, it sayes that the English who landed at Chereburgh were 3000. that they had added to their number from the Garrison of Caen, five or six hundred from that of Bayeux, 800. from Vires, be­tweene foure or five hundred, which number it summes up to make betweene five and six thousand whilst; give the number granted which is there but doubtfully spoken of, it makes but 4900. that Messieurs de Cleremont, de Castrus, de Mongaton, de Rayes Admirall of France, the Senesshalls of Poictou, and Burbone, and Iames Renault met with them neare to a village called Iermingi, where they skirmished the space of three hours, but that the Constable Monsieur de Lavall and Marishall Louhac, comming up with 300. Launces and their bowmen, the battle was valiantly fought on both sides, the English discomfited, 3774. of them slaine, and 1440. of them taken prisoners, that but five or six of the French were found missing, so as the English being well 6000. the good people say that God was the cause of this victory. [Page 140] Belforest sayes, there were 10. of the French slaine, Hallian 8. Dupleix 4. or 5. and Serres agrees in the number with Hallian, yet hee makes the miracle greater then doe the rest for hee saith, the English threw away their armes, and suffered themselves to bee slaine, and taken to mercy, many of them being spared through the courtesie of the French, his owne account prooves him a lier, but much more the ac­counts made by the rest, for hee counting those who came from Eng­land to bee 4000. and that with the addition; of the other Garrisons they made 8000. (whilest the Chronicle makes them in all but 4900.) and counting 3774. slaine, and a greater number saved through the courtesie of the French, those who hee makes to run away shamefully, will proove but a very small number, and his num­ber exceeds the number mentioned in the Chronicle above 3000. To boote; hee contradicts Hallian who writes that Gough escaped away with a good number, of horse & 1000. Archers, & whereas he accused them of cowardise. I know not with what face he can do it, if they for the losse of one Battell ought to bee reputed cowards, what ought the French to be who lost so many, to fight till the last gaspe is not cowar­dise, to defeat 1500. Bowmen and take two culverins is not cowardise; cowardise is a thing not knowne unto the English as Serres saith, they either fight with valour or retire with reason. Mathew Gough who upon all occasions gave triall of his valour, did not abandon his companions, as hee calumniously affirmes hee did, but the case being desperate and the losse inevitable; hee deserves commendations, in that hee reserved himselfe for a better occasion, for had hee done otherwise, hee should rather have merited the name of foole then of valiant. This battell being wonne the French went before Virus, Captaine Henry Mawbery their prisoner was there, so as it held not out long, the Garrison withall they had got to Caen, here count Cle­remont parting from the Constable went into Britanny, and from thence to the siege of Auranches, which in about a Month was taken, the defendants being suffered to depart away weaponlesse. Tom [...] ­laine a place neere Mount Saint Michell might have held out longer; but there being no hopes of succour, the Inhabitants would not to­gether with the Towne, loose all that they had: The Dunnesse Ni­vers and Eu, encamped themselves before Bayeux, where much was done before it fell into their hands, for though great breaches had beene made by the cannon, and the Walles beaten downe in many places, yet would they not yeeld: whereupon the Assailants who longed to sack the Towne, seeing the breaches made and the walles ready to fall downe, gave them two assaults, but in such disorder as doing it without their Captaines command, they were beaten back; yet Mathew Gough who after the Battell of Iernimgi was got thither, knowing they were not able to resist the third assault surrendered it, comming forth with a cudgell in his hand, and with some 900. persons, the greatest part whereof were Women and Children, to whom carriages were permitted, though not articled for, wherein this route was carried a pitifull Spectacle into Cheriburg, Bribec, Va­longes, and Saint Saviours, yeelded to the Constable, who mustening [Page 141] all his forces together, besieged Caen on two sides, and made a Bridge to passe over the River; Charles came thither in person accompanied by the King of Cicely, the Duke of Calabria his son, the Duke of d'Allanson, the Counts of Maine, Saint Paul and Tancherville with a great many other Noble men, Gentlemen, and Archers, and tooke his Quarter in the Abbey of Dardenne; at his comming with much a doe and losse of bloud. The bulwarkes of Vancelles, upon the River Dine were taken, mines were made in all places particularly towards Saint Ste­phens, so as the Walles being throwne downe, they fought at handy blowes. This notwithstanding, the City was not likely so soone to have yeelded, and much lesse the Castle which very was strong, had it not beene that a cannon shot lighting upon the Dutchesse of Somer­sets-house (a particular which the French conceive) made her with teares in her eyes begge of her Husband, not to suffer her and her Children remaine any longer in so eminent danger. Caen was by King Henry given to the Duke of Yorke, so as though the Duke of Somerset as Lieutenant generall had all plenary authority in all other places, yet had hee not so in this without Sir David Halls consent, Commander of the Towne under the Duke of Yorke. But Somerset summoning together, the chiefest Citizens told them, that it was im­possible to defend the Towne, and that in endeavouring it, they would endanger being taken by force: His proposition was gladly entertai­ned by them all, Hall opposed him shewing him that though his au­thority was generall, yet had hee nothing to doe in that place, which did belong to the Duke of Yorke, and whereof the charge was com­mitted to him, that the Towne was not in such danger as hee pre­tended, for it neither wanted men, munition, nor mony, that therefore it behooved them to spin out the time till the Duke himselfe might come to the succour thereof, or els give order for the surrender there­of. That in the meane while, hee would defend it against whatsoever power, since the Castle was impregnable; and though subject to the thunder of a cannon, yet onely Women and Children were there at to bee affraid, not men of warre. Long were the disputes hereupon, but the Inhabitants siding with the Duke all of them naturally en­clined to the French; and fearing to bee sackt they mutined against the Captaine, vowing that if hee did not yeeld up the Towne within three dayes they in despight of him would throw open the Gates to the King, their threats were not to bee despised, since the common sort of Souldiers, and the Duke sided with them, so as hee was con­strained to yeeld, but would not have his name used in the articles, which were signed in this manner; the next day of the Feast of Saint Iohn Baptist, that in the Towne & Castle should be yeelded up on the first of Iuly, in case they were not before that succoured, that the Duke, Dutchesse, their Children & all others, that had a minde to depart might do so, the Souldiers with their horses & harnesse, the Inhabitants with their Wives, Children, and moveables, but at their owne charges, that they should pay what they ought unto the Citizens, and should leave behinde them all sort of Artillery. Sir David Hall tooke ship­ping for Ireland to advertise the Duke of Yorke his master hereof, [Page 142] who was so much offended thereat, that if his former injuries received from the Duke of Somerset, did touch him to the quick, this vext his very heart. Of a 100. Townes enjoyed by the English they now enjoyed but foure; Lisieux commanded by Gough yeelded, their lives and livelyhood saved, but the Garrison was to march forth with a white truncheon onely in their hand, Falce whereof the Earle of Shrewesbery was Master, by gift from Henry held out a while, the souldiers sailed forth to surprize the cannon which they saw ap­peare, but being repulsed and Charles himselfe comming thither in person, they demanded parly, which was granted them; they agreed upon two articles, one for each side for them, that they should surren­der the place if they were not succoured within twelve dayes. For Charles that hee should set the Earle of Shrewesbery at liberty who was prisoner in Dreux. Dumfronte yeelded the second of August, the lives and goods of the Inhabitants saved, Chereburg held last out, it was valiantly defended as long as their munition lasted, from thence, the Governour thereof Captaine Thomas Gonvall, and the Garri­son went to Callais, where he found the Duke of Somerset and the rest, who after so many adverse fortunes had retired themselves thither.

Normandy returned back againe to the possession of the French, 30. yeares after it had beene conquered by Henry the fifth, and 3. were the causes of her losse, the first that a small number of Souldiers were not sufficient to retaine it in obedience, for though it did patrimo­nially belong to the Crowne of England, yet did it not any lon­ger retaine those former good affections to England, which had beene cancelled by the interposition of the government, of two ages from the time, that King Iohn of England was deprived thereof by Philip the first, so as being French in scituation, tongue, and customes; it was impossible to preserve her with the weake forces of bare gar­risons, devided conquests, and which are aloofe of, are not kept with­out great Collonies, or without the totall rooting out of the people, especially when they neighbour upon great Princes, that may helpe them, the common wealth of Rome doth antiently teach us this, and in moderne time the Turke and the Spaniards; the Turke in the Easterne Countries, and parts adjacent, the Spaniards in Cuba, Muxico, Pera, and the rest of America, wherein destroying as many as could hurt them, they reserved none alive, save some few, that they thought might doe them service; the second was the Duke of Somersets avarice, for that hee did not keepe such garrisons there as hee should have done, but pocketted up the money in his owne purse, as appeares by his conniving during the truce at the robberies, which with sup­pository beards were done upon the high wayes by his Souldiers, whereby hee gave just occasion of complaint unto the French, and by not paying of his Souldiers, lost all power either of suppressing their out rages, or punishing their selves, the third home divisions, of these three, the first is not to bee questioned, the second though some what obscure, yet cleare enough by the effects; the third may suffer a dispute, for though ill humours were conceived they were [Page 143] not ripe enough to cause the ruine of the state, [...]or would they have beene at all conceived or bred under a princely spirited King▪ [...] proceed from ill government; ill government from the want of judgement, insufficiency and easinesse, and cruelty in the Prince; now to come to these ruines, I say the chiefest of them had their begin­nings from the Duke of Suffolke, of whom there are divers opinions, Polli [...]ore, Holinshead, and Hall, judge evilly of him, following the v [...]lgar opinion which never adheres to favorites. Caniden and Speed evilly, but not with ingratitude, grounding themselves upon many truthes. I in like manner beleeve both well and ill of him, the good in him was, that he was very vertuous, and of heightned conditions for what con­cerned himselfe, he waged warre in France 44. yeares without inter­mission, in seventeene of which he never saw his owne country, when he was taken prisoner, his ransome cost him 20000. pound sterling, though then he had no greater title then bare knighthood, he was of 30. yeares standing of the order of the Garter, his father was slaine at the siege of Harflore, his elder brother in the battle of Ajencourt, and two younger brothers in the same warres, so as it cannot be denyed but that his Prince and country ought much unto him, since he spent his life and livelihood in the service of the one, his reputation in the service of the other, his bad, that suffering himselfe to be gulded by a prodigious ambition (a usuall disease amongst great wits hee of himselfe did negotiate in an unexpedient and harmefull match, and which was likely not to bee denied, since that thereby those territo­ries were surrendered which ought not have beene quitted for any whatsoever cause, that he did too indiscreetly make use of the Kings favour, occasioned by the Queenes more then ordinary inclina­tions.

The Parliament was summoned at the Blacke Friers in London, wherein treaties being had against the Duke and the Queene, fearing least he might therein suffer, she thought she might reape some ad­vantage by remooving the Parliament to Lecester, but, very few of the Nobilitie comming thither she, was forced to remove it againe to Westminster; where both houses being full, the lower house presented many complaints against the Duke; whereof some were true and some false. The Articles were many, the chiefest that hee had treated with the Bastard of Orleans, when he was sent Embassadour to Henry, to move Charles to make warre with England, to the end that hee might make Iohn sonne to the said Duke King, by marrying him to Margaret, daughter to the late Duke of Sommerset, the presumed heire to the Crowne, in case the King should have no children; Se­condly that suborned by the sayd Bastard, he was cause of the Duke of Orleans freedome; Thirdly, that the losse of France and Norman­dy was happened through his advise, which was represented to the King of France by the said Duke of Orleans; Fourthly, that being sent Embassadour to make peace or truce he had condescended to the surrendring of Aniou and Mayne, without the knowledge of the other Embassadours his fellow Colleagues, and that being returned to Eng­land he perswaded the King thereunto, so losing him the inheritance [Page 144] of those countries; Fiftly that having at the same time discovered the Kings counsell unto the enemy, together with the defects of the Forts and number of Souldiers, the English by reason of these infor­mations were driven out of France; Sixtly, that he had given the like informations to the Dunnesse, when he was Embassadour in England; seventhly, that the King having sent Embassadours into France to treate of peace, he was the cause why peace was not made, having by way of Anticipation advertised Charles of his advantages; Eightly, that in the Starre Chamber hee had made his boasts, that hee had as much power in the Councell of France as in that of England, and that by his power hee could remove whatsoever Counsellors there; Ninthly, that corrupted by Charles hee had retarded the melitia that was to goe to France; Tenthly, that in the conclusion of the peace, hee had not comprehended the King of Arragon nor the Duke of Britanny, both friends to the King, so as being comprehended by Charles hee alienated the former, and made the other so great an enemy as Giles brother to the said Duke, remaining firme in his friendship to Eng­land, lost first his liberty and then his life. His answers to the first three Articles were, that hee never had committed, nor so much as thought any such thing: To the fourth, that the businesse of the truce being left to his discretion, it could not bee concluded without the surrendring of those states which was but a weake answer: since the marriage of the Queene, in consideration whereof this surrender was made, was not so much as dreamt of by any save himselfe; But on the other side it being approved of in Parliament, wherein both the houses did joyne in Petition to his Majestie to reward him for this his great good service, it followes that either the one Parliament or the other did amisse, since the one desired reward, the other punishment, for the selfe same action: the fift, sixt, seventh, and ninth have no proofe at all, but the accusers bare narration. In the eight he may be convinc't but more of vanitie then of any other errour; in the tenth his fault was omission, but as it was not excusable in a personage of his con­dition, so it was not to be punished in the highest degree; his other accusations contained the topicall faults of favorites, which in like persecution are usually alleaged, that he had enricht himselfe out of the Kings treasure, monopolized things belonging to the Crowne, diminished the revenues thereof, removed worthy men from the Councell, placing such in their roomes as had dependancy upon him, that he was the chiefe instrument in the death of the Duke of Glocester, which though it were likely enough yet were not their proofes suffi­cient to condemne him. Vpon these complaints, he was sent unto the Tower as to be there forth comming, till hee should give an account of what he was charged of, but being set at liberty about a moneth after, the people were thereat so highly incensed, that to avoyd se­dition, it was requisite to take from the Lord Say his place of Trea­surer, all their places from all his other friends, and so banish him for five yeares out of England. But being imbarked in Suffolke to goe for France, he was set upon by a man of warre belonging to the Earle of Excester, was fought withall, taken, beheaded neare unto Dover [Page 145] in the same ship, and his body throwne upon the shore, from whence it was taken by one of his Chaplaines, and buried in the Colledge of Winkefield in Suffolke. This was the end of this man in whom so ma­ny causes both of blame and of praise concurring; I know not whe­ther hee ought to bee blamed or praised. Vices are like Clouds which though they doe not totally obscure the day, yet the thicker and blacker they are, the more horrid and fearefull doe they make it. Vices are not to bee ballanced with vertues no more then is ayre and water, with earth and fire, yet if amongst pu­nishments the law givers could have taken away the memory of what was good in the guiltie, I beleeve they would not have done it.

If there had beene no other evill in the Duke of Suffolke then the death of the Duke of Glocester (whereof the signes are too manifest for him to cleare himselfe) 'twere sufficient to ecclipse all his other vertues in the estimation of all honest men, but bee it as you will, his misfortune was very prejudiciall to the King, since thereby he was deprived of a servant as necessary for his pre­servation, as by his Councell and valour he was ready to preserve him.

This chance did much inanimate those who syded with the Duke of Yorke, who spared not in what they could to render the King dispised and hatefull, they forgot not to inculcate the ignominious losse of France; enough to bereave of reputation the most valiant Prince, that is much more him who was given to idle­nesse and wretchlesnesse; that the state was governed by a proud woman, the chiefe cause of all their evills.

Thus said, the people should doe well to take example by the government of Ireland, where the wisedome and valour of the Duke of Yorke had domesticated a savage people, reduced them to discipline and to obedience, that England stood in neede of such a King, who were to bee sought out if there were not such a one, and were to be chosen, were it not by nature, and by the Lawes due unto him, so as if he were not priviledged by his lawfull pretentions, his onely vertues were sufficient to purchase him the Kingdome. That Henry was illegitimate, yet a King to be borne withall, did hee resemble his grandfather or his father; but that degenerating in worth, usurping the lawes, and being by nature incapable, hee was unworthy and not to bee tollerated; since that as France had beene lost by him, England would likewise runne danger of being lost, if his pre­servation should bee endeavoured. That necessity, the times, and chiefely the danger the common wealth was in, required other resolutions, that advantage and the common weales good being joy­ned to justice, it would bee injustice injury and ruine, not to pro­vide for it.

They did not preach this Doctrine in private, but disperst it abroad; to the end that like seed sowne in due time, they might there out reape to harvest which they expected. Every man had the vanitie to publish these things to shew their wisedomes and their affection [Page 146] to the publique necessitie, and to the end that these seditious pra­ctises might bee followed by effects.

Yorke before the death of the forenamed Duke had wrought the end of Adam Molleins Bishop of Chichester, and Lord privy Seale; beleeving that hee being a man of integritie might oppose his designes: hee caused him to bee assassenated by Fishermen at Ports-mouth, to the end that hee might bee thought to bee slaine by the outragious commotion of that baser sort of people, but all these things tending more to undoing then to the doing of any thing, hee thought to beginne his worke by some po­pular sedition, which precipitating the Rebells into a fault un­pardonable, and their feare of punishment making them obstinate in their errours, hee might make use of them either joyned to­gether or separated as occasion should serve; hee perswaded one Iacke Cade an Irishman, a bold man, and who had a spirit which did not correspond with his low condition, to faigne himselfe to bee a Cosen of his, of the house of Mortimer, to the end that winning beleefe by reason of his blood hee might bee favoured by the true Mortimers who did not know him, and might seduce the rest which hee was to worke upon; hee chose Kent for his scene, beleeving it to bee fickle, and fitter for his designe than any other place, as being neare to London.

There did Cade exagerate the wickednesse of the Counsellours and of the government, the grievances and such other like things; till such time as having sufficiently enflamed the Inhabitants of those parts, hee made offer of himselfe to bee their Leader, pro­mising them that when hee should have possessed himselfe of the Kings person (the which hee faigned hee would doe) and driven away those who governed him amisse, hee would put them in a way of so just a government, that the grievances introduced un­der spetious pretences, and which framed the chaine of their servitude, should totally bee taken away and the chaine broken.

Thus perswaded, hee assembled a great number of people, with whom hee encamped himselfe not farre from London, and cal­ling himselfe the Captaine of Kent, hee sent for one Thomas Cocke a Woollen Draper, under a safe conduct, commanding him to bring him certaine numbers of Armes, and Horse, and a thou­sand Markes of ready money at the charge of the strangers that did inhabit the Citie; by the name the Genowayes, Venetians and Floren­tines, threatning that if these things were not sent unto him hee would kill as many of them as hee could come by, and 'tis to be beleeved hee was herein obeyed. For when afterwards hee ente­red the Citie; hee did no harme at all to any forreigner, the Ci­tizens were not displeased at his commotion, who did not con­sider their owne danger, and the little beleefe which ought to bee given to such people.

But the King and Councell who foresaw the consequences, sent to understand from him the reasons which had mooved him to take up Armes, and make the people rise; hee answered to [Page 147] amend the evills under which the kingdome suffered, to chastise those who were the ruine of the Common-wealth, and to correct the errours of the chiefe Counsellours, which being said, hee gave unto those that were sent unto him two writings, the one was intituled The Commons of Kents complaints, the other their demands from the King.

The Articles of the former were, that it was reported that Kent should bee destroyed and reduced into a Forrest, to revenge the Duke of Suffolkes death, whereof the Countie was no wayes gurltie, that the King had taken a resolution for the time to come to live upon the peoples contributions, and to give his owne re­venue to particular men, that those of the blood royall were ex­cluded from the government of the state, and people of meane condition introduced, so as businesses were not dispatch't accor­ding to the Lawes, but by corruption; that provisions for the Kings household were had, and not payd for, that by the Kings giving of confiscations unto his servants, the innocent were falsely convinced, and by being kept in prison lost the benefit of the Law, so as they could not defend themselves: that the like was practised against them, who being justly possessed of their goods were denied to shew their title, that they might bee thereof deprived. That France being lost through the faults of certaine Traitors, they should bee enquired after, and condemned without pardon; the writing which contained their demands was to this purpose, that the King that hee might live confor­mable to his royall dignitie, should retaine unto himselfe the pa­trimony of the Crowne, and not participate it unto others. That he should banish all Suffolkes kindred; should punish according un­to the Lawes such of them as had deserved punishment, and should take neare unto him the Lords of the blood Royall (viz. the Dukes of Yorke, Excester, Buckingham, and Norfolke, and all the Earles and Barons; for that so doing hee would bee the richest King of Christendome, that those who were guiltie of the Duke of Glocesters death (who was injustly declared to bee a Traytor) should bee punished; the Commons declaring that they would live and die in this quarrell, and maintaine the imputation to bee false, that the Duke of Excester, the Cardinall of Winchester, the Duke of Warwicke, France, Normandy, Gascony, Guien, Aniou and Mayne, many Lords, Gentlemen and others were lost through the fault of these Traitors to the Kings great prejudice.

Finally, they demanded the Abollition of divers things which they termed extortions, the Councell was much vext at the Arrogancy of these men, and since there was none there who did not condemne them; Henry with fifteene thousand men mar­ched towards them himselfe in person to give them battle, but Cade faigning himselfe to bee afrayd, retired himselfe into a Wood neare Senock; hoping that the King emboldned by his flight would in disorder set upon him, which hee did not, beleeving that this vapour would of it selfe exhaule. [Page 148] But the Queene thinking they were fled for feare, sent Sir Humphery Stafford and William Stafford his kinsmen after them who remaine both slaine, together with many other gentlemen. Those of the Kings Campe who were both badly satisfied with the government, upon the newes hereof discovered themselves, for hating the King the Queene and government, and esteeming this putative Mortimer their Angell of deliverance, they wished the Duke of Yorke with him, that they might reape the profit, and he make use of this occasion, the King frighted at these whispers returned to London, where such of his coun­cell as were least passionate doubting an insurrection, caused the Lord Say, the Treasurer to be shut up in the Tower of London, that they might sacrifice him if neede should require, to the fury of the people, they would have done the like with divers others, had they not saved themselves. Cade growne proud by reason of this his victory, and having put on the armes of Sir Humphery Stafford (his richest prise) returned to blake Heath, whither the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Duke of Buckingham were sent unto him, to understand what his pretences were, they found him under a faigned humility, so puft up with pride and obstinate presumption, as they could not perswade him to lay downe his armes unlesse the King should come thither himselfe in person, and grant whatsoever hee demanded, hee was growne so strong by reason of this victory (many flocking unto him from the neighbouring counties) that the King and Queene were per­swaded to relie themselves to Killingworth, leaving no other Forces in London then what was requisite to guard the Tower, under the com­mand of the Lord Scales, and Sir Mathew Gough one of the most fa­mous and antient Commanders in the Warres of France. This his retreat encreased Cades arrogancy, hee marched towards London and not suffered immediately to enter; hee lodged in Southwark whilest the commons of Essex following his example had likewise taken up Armes, and were the same time encamped at Mile-End. The Lord Major, who held it equall danger to suffer him to come in, or to deny him entry called a Councell, where the busines being debated with variety of opinion, Robert Horne one of the Aldermen stood stifly to it, that hee was not to bee suffered to enter the Citie, which when the rebells heard they raged and roared so lowd, as the Major was glad to put Horne into Newgate, and on the second of Iuly, Cade entered in over London Bridge, and being come into the City (to winne the more good will, and the better to deceive;) hee caused proclamation to bee made in the Kings names, that no man should steale any thing, nor take ought not paying for it, upon paine of death, and passing by the streets which led from the Bridge to Saint Pauls, hee with his sword struck the stone called London-stone, saying now is Mortimer master of London; the next day hee caused the Lord Saye to bee brought before the Lord Majors Court where together with the Major hee caused divers others of the Kings, Judges to set, the accused party did in vaine demand his lawfull priviledge, of being judged by his peeres, hee was carried to Cheapside, was beheaded, his Head stuck upon the point of speare: his naked Body dragg'd at [Page 149] a horses taile into the Sub-vrbs and there quartered; hee would have done the like to Alderman Horne, had not his Wife & Friends ransom­med him at the price of 500. marks, besides his being popular made much for his safety, but not here withall contented (for hee was as cruell as avaritious) hee went to Milend where hee seised upon the body of Sir Iames Cromer sonne in law to the sayd Lord Saye, and who was that yeere high sheriffe of Kent, hee made him to bee beheaded not allowing him time to confesse himselfe, and putting his head upon an other speare, hee caused both the heads to bee carried before him, hee put many others to death, either for not obeying him, or for that hee feared that being knowne by them, they might publish the basenes of his birth, being returned back to London, hee fell to sack the houses of the richest Citizens, hee began with Alderman Mal­pals house, to pay him for a feast which Malpall made unto him two dayes before, hee did the like with others of the best, so as the rest of the Citizens frighted hereat, were forced to buy the safety of their houses with great summes of mony, the Lord Major who too late perceived, that hee had taken a snake into his bosome called together the Aldermen and sheriffes to advise upon a remedy, they resolved to fortifie the bridge and deny him entry. (Cade kept alwayes his first quarter in Southwarke, from whence hee came each morning into the Towne and returned back at night.) They gave notice hereof to the Lord Scales Lieutenant of the Tower, and Sir Mathew Gough de­siring their assistance, the first promised to play upon them with his cannon, the other came to them to bee their leader, the Captaines and Traine-bands of the City being assembled, they began at midnight to barracado the Bridge, but this could not bee done without the knowledge of the rebells, whose consciences and the danger they were in, made them vigilant, they with much fury assaulted them, the fight endured all night, and till nine of the clocke the next morning, which diversity of fortune, some time the one, sometimes the other, having the better they fired many of the houses upon the Bridge, so as the fire, the outcries of those that could not save themselves from the flame; the complaints of women and children, the throwing themselves into the River of Soame, who stand one death to meet with another, was a miserable sight to those who had any pitty in them, but not sufficient to assuage the anger of those that fought, who drove one another alternately from one end of the Bridge to the other, in this bickering Alderman Suttun and many others were slaine, but the death of Sir Mathew Gough was most to bee deplored, who having defended oppugned and wonne many Castles, fought in pri­vate encounters, and publique Battels with the valiant'st Comman­ders, that were: should now bee miserably slaine by base people, theeves, and rebells, which how it hapned is not justly knowne, most certaine it is that his life was of more value then a million of those that slew him, nothing but wearines ended this bickering, and that caused a truce till the next day, upon condition, that each side should keepe its quarter, the Citizens should not passe into the Sub-vrbs nor the rebells into the City, there were then and yet are in that Sub-vrbs [Page 150] two principall prison's the Kings bench and the Marshal­sea's which were then full of prisoners, and Cade hoping for good thereby, set them at liberty and armed them; but this did but little availe him, for the Archbishop of Canterbury having wisely framed a generall pardon and authorised it with the great Seale; (hee him­selfe being Lord Chancellour;) hee crost the River over against the Tower, accompanied by the Bishop of Winchester, made it bee pro­claimed in South-wark, where it was so welcomly received by the rebells, that without taking leave or seeing their Captaines face, they returned to their owne homes, so as being suddenly forsaken, and those aydes not appearing which were promised by such as sided with the Duke of Yorke, hee fled in disguise into Sussex, and was pursued by many to gaine the 1000. marks, which were promised to him that should kill him; this good fortune befell Alexander Iden, who did well deserve it, by reason of the danger wherein hee put himselfe; for finding him in a Garden, hee slew him hand to hand without any manner of treachery, and brought his Body to London, where the Head being taken of, it was put upon a spear's end, and set it upon the Bridge, as are usually the heads of Traitors: and Iden received the 1000. marks, which hee had generously wonne.

The Archbishop of Canterbury plaid a discreet part in this busines, by applying the generall pardon to the seditious in a time when many of them being slaine, or hurt; the rest shreudly affrighted, and fearing yet worse, hee did that with a few stroakes of his pen, which many a stroake of sword neither could nor would have done; an act of a wise Minister, for the common people are for the most part like pet­tish children, who grow wilde at the whisk of a Rod, and are made tractable at the sight of a red cheekt apple. The King was advised to goe into Kent, where having chastised some, hee made good the pardon to all the rest to the great satisfaction of the Coun­try.

Charles made use of these dissentions in England to impatronize himselfe of Gascony, just as hee did of the disorders of Normandy, to make himselfe master of that Province, the experience of so many yeares, wherein hee had governed himselfe amisse, had made him more minde his busines; Monstrelet observes, that the conquest of Normandy was an effect of his good order taken with his Souldiers, for hee had reduced the horse (which was the chiefest part of his strength) to so perfect a discipline, by well arming of them, and well paying them, as that the Country people did in safety enjoy their own goods, any transgression in that behalfe being severely punished, which if all Princes would doe, they would seldome bee loosers. No­thing did more preserve the Guascons for 300. yeares, and upward in their obedience to the English (not withstanding all the forces polli­cies and proffers of France) then good government; for they were ruled under the liberty of the lawes, as if they had beene naturall English-men, not, that when a goverment is come to it's period any thing is able to uphold it, since the orders of fortune and of nature have their bounds prefixt, as well in what is good as what is bad: [Page 151] Bergerac was the first place besieged in Guien, a place seated upon the River Dordon in Perigord; Charles made the Count Pointeverres, who was likewise Count de Perigord and Viscount de Limoges his Lieute­nant in those parts, hee was accompanied with many Gentlemen, and with 2500. horse, 500. whereof were lances, for every lance con­sisted of five horse, the man at armes his page, his servant armed and two bow men. When the artillery came up, Bergerac yeelded; the Eng­lish came forth on horseback, and with their goods, the Inhabitants enjoyed their owne as formerly; Iansack seated upon the same River was taken by assault: 35. English being there slaine, the rest taken prisoners; Monferat, Saint Foye, and Chalois yeelded: for the Inhabitants were affrighted, and resolved not to hazard their lives and lively­hoods, since the Lord Cameile had written into England for succour and no order was taken for any by reason of the home broyles there, so as no Towne now durst any longer hold out, but that which did chiefely quell their Spirits was the defeat given by Monsieur de Orvall the third sonne of the house of Albret, to the Maior of Burdeaux. Orvall was parted from Bazas to make an inroade into the Island of Medock with 4. or 500. fighting men, when night came on, hee staid some two leagues short of Burdeaux, and the next morning being all Saints day, as hee was on horseback to enter the Island, hee was tould, that betweene 8. and 9000. of those of Burdeaux, what Townesmen, what English were marched forth to give him battell, whereupon hee set his men in order, expecting to bee set upon. When they came to blowes, hee slew 1300. of them, and the Maior fled away abandoning the Infantry, which hee had placed in the front of the enemy; and besides those hee slew, hee tooke 1200. prisoners; this is according to Monstrelets relation. Hallian who taxeth, the Geo­graphers of ignorance for calling the country of Madock an Island, since it is onely environed on the one side by the River of Garronne, and on an other side by a little arme of the Sea, all the rest being firme continent joyning to the lands of Burdeaux, doth agree almost in all things with Monstrelet, save that hee saith, that the English Authours write, that the French were twise as many as they, and that their vi­ctory cost them the lives of 1000. of their owne men; Chartier saith, that Monsieur d'Orvall had betweene 6. and 7000. fighting men, that as hee returned with his booty; hee was set upon by the English, that hee slew about 2000. of them, and tooke 2200. prisoners. The English writers on the contrary side say, that the Maior of Burdeaux was overcome more by number then valour, that those who were slaine and taken prisoners were about 600. and that 800. of the French were slaine. Which of these is the true relation is left to the judgement of him, who will take the paines to examine them; if Chartier bee to bee beleeved the 2200. prisoners will proove likelier to bee sheepe then men; for every one of the Victors must binde at least 3. or 4. and if it bee said, that they, who could kill every man 14. (which is not granted) might much easier take every man his 3. or 4. prisoners: The argument holds not, for it is easier for one man to kill 14. then to take and detaine 4. The English have divers times [Page 152] fought against 7. or 8. and have overcome; the French themselves will not deny it, but there is some reason given for it, for though valour bee to bee accounted in the first place, (since without it no so disadvantagious resolution can bee taken) yet in the second place may bee alleadged the disorder of the enemy; their owne good order, and their arrowes which gawling and disordering the horse, were cause of the victory. In this present affaire neither the valour nor the fortune of the one side is described, nor the cowardise, nor dis­order of the other, no man doubts but that 150. Spaniards may have defeated great armies of the Indians. And tis no wonder, the novelty of their horse, the resistance of their armour, the noise made by their muskets and field peeces, made them bee beleeved to bee descended from heaven and were causes of their victories; if Hallian had read the English historians, hee would not have thought them so vaine glo­riously light, hee would there have feared the death of 800. French not of 10000. as hee saith, however it was this defeate was the cause of the surrendring of many Townes this yeare, which were neither beleaguered, nor summoned; and the next ensuing yeare 1451. was the decider of the generall disputes in Guascony which was by the sword taken from the English and given to the French. The chiefe Commander in this enterprise was the Dunnesse Lieutenant generall to Charles; hee was accompanied by his brother, the Count de Angove­lesme this being the first service hee did his King and Country; after his imprisoment in England. Monguione held out against him, 8. dayes and then yeelded; from thence, hee went to Blaye to block up this Towne, great forces were brought both by Sea and Land. Iohn Bourchier generall of France brought thither great store of vessells loaded with men, armes, and victualls, and finding five great English vessels there, which had brought provision to the besieged; hee fought with them forced them, to weigh anchor and flie, and gave them chase even to the haven of Burdeaux. Messieurs de Bessiere de Chabanes, and Count Pointever came thither by land, a great breach being made, they gave an assault wherein the City was taken about 200. English were slaine, and taken prisoners. Messieurs d'Esparre and d'Monferand both of them Guascons saved themselves within the Castle the which together with themselves they soone after yeelded up. Bourg held out 6. dayes, Libourne summoned by the herauld delivered up its keyes. Whilest businesses proceeded thus in these parts, men were not idle as els where, every man of any account imployed him­selfe about some thing or other: foure Princes of the bloud Cleremont, Angovelesme, Vandosme, and Eu; did joyntly besiege Fronsac (a place thought impregnable) both by Land and Sea. Count de Fois Lieute­nant of Guienne beyond Garronne, accompanied by many Gentlemen, particularly by Messieurs d'Albret, and Laurec, bretheren by Tarras and Orvall sonnes to the former, went before Arques, and had it upon composition; Count Armignac not forgetting his affront touching the marriage of his daughter went to besiege Rions; Count Pointe­verres besieged Castelon, which yeelded to him, as did likewise Melion, where hee stayed and sent his troope to Fronsac, which was the most [Page 153] important place of all the rest as hath beene said; Charles had foure armies in the fields, which were all at the same time busied in severall places, so as it is no wonder, if the English were enforced to yeeld, since to boot with the mighty forces of the enemy, the Townes whereof they were masters denyed to doe their duties, in defending themselves being wrought upon either by inclination or feare▪ Fron­sac was a very strong place, but likely in a short time to bee brought to extremity if not succoured, foure armies did environe it, so as if the English had beene in case to have kept the field, yet would they not have beene able to succour it, as well by reason of the besiegers great forces, as likewise, for that the two Rivers Dordonne and Darronne, by reason of the very great encrease of waters were not navigable. Being thus difficulted, the defendants demanded a truce untill Saint Iohn Baptists-day, upon these conditions, that if they were not suc­coured before that time, so as the Dunnesse should bee enforced to raise up siege, they would surrender up the Fort, and hee was to give safe conduct to whosoever would bee gone, and to fit them with carriages and shipping for themselves and goods at their owne charges. That the garrison should march forth with their horses and armes, and leave their artillery behinde them, that those, who would sweare obedience to Charles and to bee his good and loyall subjects should enjoy their goods in whatsoever part of the King­dome, and bee pardoned for what was formerly past; that such as would serve him in the warre whether Citizens, voluntiers, or of the garrison, should have the like entertainement, as the other soul­diers; that of the prisoners that were taken at Blaye Gaches, Charnali and 6. other should bee set at liberty without ransome, and that the like was to bee understood o [...] Iohn Stafford who was taken prisoner at the Battell of Iermingi; the 23. day of the Month being come, and the besiegers not fought withall the City was yeelded up, and the Castle, the English oretired themselves to Burdeaux, whi­ther likewise the Dunnesse did immediately goe. The English stories doe not mention the particulers of the surrendring of this Citie, one­ly that finding it selfe abandoned, it shared in like fortune as did Fronsac, but those of France doe specifie that Burdeaux agreed to yeeld, if Fronsac should yeeld, and that they would expect it till then to pay the duty they ought to Henry, and yeelded with the more honour to Charles. I forbeare to speake o [...] its long capitulations as likewise of those made by Gastonne de Fois Knight of the Garter, and Bartrand de Monferanda, the former not desirous to live in France disposed of his goods to his grandchild, who bore the title of Count de Candalle, a child of three yeares old, who when she should bee of yeares was to sweare allegiance to Charles, the second agreed to yeeld up the places he held to the French, upon condition that when hee should have sworne Allegiance to Charles they should be againe deli­vered up unto him. Burdeaux was easily brought to execute the agree­ment. The Dunnesse made his entry thereinto the 29. of the same moneth, and on the sixt of A [...]gust he besieged Ba [...]onne, which held ou [...] till such time as the Artillery being come up and a breach made, so [Page 154] as it was in danger of being taken by assault, it yeelded with power, for the Garrison to retire, and a penaltie layd upon the Citie to pay 40000. Crownes, halfe of which was afterwards remitted by Charles. Charter reports a miracle which hapned the next day after the surrender thereof, he saith that the ayer being cleare a white crosse appeared in the skie for the space of halfe an houre, at the sight where­of the inhabitants tooke from of their ensignes the red Crosse the badge of England; saying that God by that white Crosse, which was the badge of France did admonish them for the time to come to be good Frenchmen. And because Hallian writes that this effect which proceeded from the clouds, was ascribed to religion and pro­digie; Dupleix calls him a destroyer of all miracles, pretending him to bee convinced, no lesse by the serenitie of the ayre then by the Te­stimoniall letters of the Count Dunnesse, authenticated by his seale, both which are very slender reasons: The ayre ceaseth not to be tear­med cleare though some little cloud may appeare, wherein may be formed the forenamed Crosse, and for the testimoniall letters allea­ged, they might be beleeved had they beene written by some Eng­lish Generall. Factions are like Sexes, the one doth not succeed unto the other, especially when the one doth disagree within it selfe; Hallian one of the same faction not beleeving that the Pucell of Orleans was sent from heaven, was therefore reprehended, and now not be­leeving this Crosse, his beleeving in the Crosse of Christ doth not exempt him from being reputed by Dupleix a bad Christian. We have the first and the second causes, and ignorant people not able to give a reason for the second have recourse unto the first, which is by all men knowne to cover their idiotisme with piety and religion: but the learned though alleadge the second causes, they omit not the first, though they name it not, supposing that no existence can be without it. God in the creating of nature hath given her her orders, to the end that without the name of Miracle (though all his workes are won­derfull) shee may operate accordingly. So as if the earth yeeld not 'its fruites so abundantly one yeare as another, and they alleadge for reason thereof the inequalitie of seasons, some conjunction of unfor­tunate Plannets, or some such like influence, they forbeare notwith­standing to have recourse to God Almightie. Knowing for certaine that he is able though contrary to the course of nature absolutely of himselfe to provide therefore, no [...] is there any so ignorant nor wicked body who doth not confesse this, but in miracles 'tis otherwise; the Church must alwayes examine them. Hallian denies not miracles, nay I doe verily beleeve, he beleeves them so much the better in that not admitting of them indifferently upon simple testimony; hee accor­ding to true Pietie discernes betweene devotion and superstition, as good Graine is discerned from Tares, but pietie is not there simply required by Dupleix though hee make shew thereof, hee useth it for a vehiculum; he would make us swallow a falsehood wrapt up in religi­on, with the same end hee had in the Pucells case, which was to strengthen Charles his pretences by the meanes of miracle; and in this case hee alleadges his testimonies with such seeming sinceritie at the [Page 155] businesse required. The Dunnesse letters containe these words, that the Crosse appeared in a cloud with a crucifix crowned with an Azure Crowne, which afterwards changed to a Flower de Luce, according to the relation of more then a thousand that saw this prodigie; This was the end of the English government in Guascony, which had 'its be­ginning in the yeare, 1155. by the marriage of Ellinor Dutchesse of Aquitany with Henry the second King of England: and came to its period after 296. yeares, in the yeare 1451. in Henry the sixt his dayes; and as William the father of Ellenor forsooke his stake, the world, and his daughter to undertake a pilgrimage, and peacefully ended his life in an Hermitage, and was canonized for a Saint. So Henry the successour to two Williams, the one a Gu [...]scoyne the other a No [...]man, did not quit it, but lost it, for having too imperfectly imitated the sanctitie of the one, and no whit at all the valour of the other, and being op­posite in nature to the Conquerour, and in pietie not equall to the canonized Saint, he came to a violent end with the reputation of being innocent but no Saint.

The Duke of Yorkes machenations were a chiefe cause of all these losses, where withall the people being corrupted nothing was thought of but homebred rancour the praise worthy ambition of publique reputation, which so long had warmed every mans heart was ex­tinct, the evill satisfaction given by the Queene augmented, and Sommerset so much hated as that his house was broken open, and ran­sack't every one det [...]sted his actions, envied his power and lay in Ambush for him as being the obstacle of their worst designes. The Duke of Yorke who was in Ireland had notice given him of all these proceedings, and because the Kentish sedition had had but an ill suc­cesse, hee resolved to come for England, his chiefe friends and Coun­sellors were Sir Iohn Mawbery Duke of Norfolke, Richard Nevill who was stiled Earle of Salisbury in the behalfe of his wife, daughter and heire to the valiant Thomas Montague who was slaine before Orleans. Richard Nevill his son who was likewise Earle of Warwick in the right of his wife, Thomas Courtney Earle of Devonshire, & Edward Brooke Bar­ron of Cobham, all of them personages not inferior to any for their power, followers and valour, of these five, the first two were drawne to forsake the allegiance they ought to Henry their King and kinsman, by reason of their affinitie with the Duke of Yorke▪ the rest were onely moved by Englands ill genius; the Earle of Salisbury discended from Iane Beaufort daughter by the third wife to Iohn Duke of Lancaster. Henries great grandfather, so as being so neare a Kin unto him he had no reason to take part against him, but the marriage of the Duke of Yorke with his sister Sicily, was the reason why both he and his sonne for sooke their former duty. Iohn Duke of Norfolke tooke part with the Earle of Salisbury, as being the sonne of one of his daughters, but more in the behalfe of his Father, who was banished, and of his Uncle who was beheaded at Yorke in the time of Henry the fourth.

I know not what moved Thomas Earle of Deuonshire, who married the Daughter of Somerset first to side against him, and afterwards (to [Page 156] his misfortune) to joyne with him, the Lord Cobham had no other interest save his owne proper disposition, alwayes enclined to acti­ons of the like nature: their resolution was for to cloake their first com­motions, as that they should not seeme to bee against the King, but the people should bee prest under pretence of the publique good. That the Duke of Somerset should bee their baite, who was fit by reason of the bad successe in Normandy to colour the reason of this insurre­ction, and consequently they intended his ruine without the which they could not hope to effect their ends, since hee was the onely re­maining Buckler for Henries defence and preservation.

Having taken this resolution, hee went to raise people in Wales, many flocking unto him from all parts under the plausible pretence 1452. of publique good, with these hee marched towards London. The King at first newes hereof had got together a good army to meete with him, but hee shund him, hoping to encrease his numbers, and like fame to yet by going, he would not hazard to trye his passage through Lon­don, the deniall thereof might lessen his reputation: but passing over the Thames at Kingston, hee went into Kent, and pitched his campea mile from Dartford, some ten or twelve miles from London, and se­cured himselfe with trenches and artillery. The King brought his campe thither likewise, and sent unto him the Bishops of Winchester, and Ely, to know of him what had caused him to take up armes, hee answered nothing against the King nor yet against any honest man, but against some evill Counsellors who were enemies to the common-wealth and the peoples leeches: and naming the Duke of Somerset, hee said, hee was the cause, that brought him thither; and of­fered, if Somerset might bee put into safe custody, till such time as in Parliament hee should make defence to such things as there should bee objected against him, to dismisse his troopes, and present himselfe before the King, and serve him as all good and faithfull subjects ought to doe. The Dukes end in this enterprise was to justifie his owne actions in the beginning, for to fight with the King at very first would proove scandalous and diametrically opposite to the publique good. With this his answer hee would possesse the World of a good opinion of him, shun the dangers hee might light upon, if hee should hazard a battell and have the worst, and by making Somerset safe so as hee should bee enforced to answer to what should bee objected against him: hee was sure the Parliaments severity considered, and the hatred which the people bore him, hee could not escape with his life: the which hapning, hee might with ease deprive Henry of this Kingdome rather by meanes of law, then by violence; for having lost Somerset hee lost all councell, commanders, and followers. The King on the other side who thought that to reduce him to obedience by violence would be a hazardous affaire, seemed to gratifie his desire, and gave order for Somersets being forth comming, whereupon dis­missing his people according to his promise; Yorke came unto the King, but whilest hee had published his complaints accusing the pretended guilty person of treason and oppression. The Duke of So­merset, who was not farre of, and heard all that was said, hearing him­selfe [Page 157] wounded in his honour and could not containe himselfe, but comming from where hee was concealed and not contented, to answer to what was objected against him, hee accused his accusor of high treason, for having with many others conspired against the Kings life, and consulted how with least danger they might bereave him of his crowne and scepter, an accusation which was not slightly to bee passed over. The King returned to London whither hee was brought as a prisoner and presented before a great counsell assembled for this purpose a [...] Westminster, where the two Dukes accusing one another reciprocally, nothing could bee resolved of: for Yorke denyed all, nor were there any witnesses to convince him; but Somerset per­ceiving the euils that were likely to ensue, if hee should escape; did all that in him lay to have him put to the rack, which in this case onely is permitted by the lawes of England. He shewed how that if Yorke and all his generation were not bereaved of their lives a [...]vill, warre must needs ensue, which would bee the destruction of England, for that hee had long agoe resolved the ruine of the King, and of the house of Lancaster: that hee might make himselfe King and transplant the Crowne and Kingdome into his owne family or house. But these ad­vertisements were of no force, his supposed innocence withstood them, since when hee was armed with considerable forces, hee had presented himselfe unarmed before the King, which it was not likely hee would have done, had hee beene guilty of any such thing. An opinion which easily prevailed, for that at the same there came two important nuses; the one that the Earle of Marsh was marching with an army towards London, the other, that the Count de Cardale and Monsieur Desperres were sent from Burdeaux to make a new offer of their obedience, and to desire an army to recover what was lost, and which was easiliest to bee recovered, for that the French were weake and the Country weary of them, so as the eminent danger threatned by the comming of the Earle of Marsh; and the Gnascons request, the first not to bee excited, and the latter not to bee promised without peace and quiet, were the causes why the Duke of Yorke was released, and why hee retired himselfe to Wales, to expect a more opportune occasion whilest the Duke of Somerset had wherewithall to appease his griefe, remaining without rivall, the moderator of the whole go­vernment.

The alterations of Gascony sprung from impositions laid by the French, caused fresh hopes in England, the w ch though it be denied by Dupleix, who doth therefore taxe Hallian, who followes the opinion of Pollidore, yet are the proofes of the contrary very weake; hee saith, it is not likely, that Charles would have imposed grievances upon them contrary to his oath, especially the first yeare wherein he was to establish his government amongst them, and that the Souldiers were so well disciplined as that the open fields were free from ra­pine, as if Princes did alwayes, that which they ought to doe, and that military discipline not subject to corruption, should observe the reformation in Gascony: The King being absent which when he was in person present, he caused to be observed in Normandy. France [Page 158] hath had good Kings and good Officers, yet not sufficient to sup­presse or change the inclinations of such as serve them, It is im­possible for Princes to doe any thing of excellency, if their subjects appeare not in their interests.

Particular avarice hath at all times beene cause of remarkeable mischiefes. If Francis the first had had as many men fighting, as hee paid paye unto, hee had not lost his liberty before Pavia. King Henry entertaines the offer of Burdeaux, and suddenly sent Talbot Earle of Shrewsbery thither, who though ever exceeding diligent in all expe­ditions, yet in this, hee did out doe himselfe, hee embarqued himselfe and tooke with him 3000. souldiers leaving order for such as were to follow him, hee landed upon the coast of Meddock, and the more to terrifie the enemy, hee made great spoiles in their Townes, but being sent for in by those all of Burdeaux, hee filled the adjacent parts with horrour; the City was of different opinions touching the French garrison, some would have them bee suffered to goe away free, others not, and these threw open the Gates to the English who entering at unawares imprisoned the garrison, but spilt no bloud, nor did no outrage neither to them nor the Townes-men: Fronsack did for a few dayes stop Talbot in his advancement, but when it yeelded, all the neighbouring Townes did alike, and did freely of themselves returne to their former obedience. Castillian sent for him, and the French gar­rison being put forth, his men entered; when Charles heard hereof, hee sent thither Count Cleremont his sonne in law, and his Lieutenant in Guienne with 600. Horse and 1200. Crosbowmen under the Con­duct of Messieurs de Lorhac, and Orvall, to make matters good till such time as he should come, which was not long after. On the other side to Talbot came the Lord Lisle his sonnes, the Lord Mullins and Har­rington, and Lord Camus the Bastard of Somerset, Sir Iohn Talbot, Sir Iohn Howard, Sir Iohn Montgomery, and Sir Iohn Vernon, who brought with them 2200. souldiers, munition, & victualls; Charles being come to Lusignano mustered his men which flockt unto him from all parts when hee was come to Saint Iohn d'Angeli, he understood how that Iaques de Chabanes had taken Chales, and slaine many of the Eng­lish; he divided his army which consisted of 22000. men into two parts: to the end, that he might weaken the enemy, who were to divide theirs; likewise, he gave 15000. to Count Cleremont, and sent the Marishall Lorhac with the rest to besiege Castillion.

In this case, Talbot resolved to fight with one of the armies, and made choise of the weaker to succour Chastillion, he went thither with 1453. 800. horse commanded by 3 Barons his sonne Lasle, Mullins, and Camus; and 3. Knights, Sir Edward Hall, Sir Iohn Howard, and Sir Iohn Vernon, and gave order for 5000. foote to follow him conducted by the Count de Candalle, and Monsieur Desparres. In his march he tooke a Tower which the French had fortified, and slew as many as he found there, meeting with 500. of the enemy, who were gone a for­redging, he slew some of them, the rest saved themselves before Cha­stillion, which was the cause of the ruine which ensued: for feare ha­ving caused them to withdraw from the siege and draw into the [Page 159] field, fortified with trenches and deepe ditches, they put themselves in order to expect his comming, and hee, though hee knew, it would bee to his disadvantage to set upon them in that posture, yet fearing what hee could not shun viz.) that if new troopes of the enemy should come up, the enterprise would bee the more difficult, hee re­solutely gave in amongst them: the fight continued along time before it could bee discerned which side had the better; but certaine forces sent by the Duke of Britanny to assist Charles comming up unto them, when the battell was at the hottest conducted by Messieurs de Mon­talbon, and Hunnandy, they tooke some colours and made the rest re­treat. Talbot rid every where up and downe upon a little ambling nag, his age not permitting to fight in any other manner, when struck with a peece of Artillery, he and his horse were borne to the ground above 300. more faring alike with him, so as being ready to dye, and seeing his sonne close by him, he advised him to save himselfe; the which his sonne refusing to doe, the Father replied that his valour which in this case was to be esteemed meere rashnes ought to bee re­served for a better occasion, that it did misbecome him being old to run away, since thereby he should darken the luster of his past actions, but that it was not so with him, who being young and but a novice in armes, could not bee prejudiced by a flight grounded upon reason; but all these admonitions wrought nothing upon the generous youth, hee chose rather to imitate his Fathers actions then to obey his desires; he dyed by his side, though not without revenge, for hee fell, valiantly fighting with his sword all bluody in his hand. His Bastard brother Henry Talbot, and Sir Edward Hall were slaine toge­ther with him, the Lord Moullins and 60. more were taken prisoners; most of those that fled saved themselves within Burdeaux, amongst which Monsieur Desparres was one. A thousa [...]d of the English were left dead upon the field, according to the English-writers, and 2000. according to the French; this was the end of Iohn Talbot Earle of Shrewsbery the terrour of France; hee put a period to his victories and his life the 13. of Iuly in his 80. yeare of age, after a long uninter­rupted warfare, he was borne not to dye by humane hands, had he not beene slaine by the hellish humane invention of guns. Chastilion served for a short refuge to many, especially to Messieurs de Monferant d'Anglades, and the Count d'Candalles sonne, but after ten dayes de­fence, they yeelded up themselves, and the Towne upon conditions, all other places followed their example except Burdeaux which would yet have held out longer had not want of victualls enforced it to capitulate, and Charles who could not hope to keepe there long, for the plague grew very hot amongst his people, received their of­fers, without any shew of severity, making them onely promise ne­ver to rebell againe. He suffered the English freely to depart and reserved 20. of those who were chiefe authours of the rebellion to be banished France for ever; amongst which Monsieur d'Espares, and Monsieur de Duras. The losse of this Dutchy, according to the English stories, was as prejudiciall to particular men as to the Crowne for being of no charge, but rather of benefit both within and without [Page 160] (the revennes thereof being great and the commerce very great) it was of great consequence, for the breeding up and maintaining the youth of England as in an Academy of warre especially younger bre­theren, who having but little to live on were there provided for with honourable entertainement.

Hence forward, I shall not speake of France save in such occur­rences as often times happens betwixt neighbouring Countries, for though these two Kingdomes did not cease to doe mischiefe each to other, as much as in them lay, yet did they it not in like manner as formerly they had done, but answerable to the common state rule to keepe their neighbours from growing greater: and if they should have beene otherwise minded, it was out of their power to mischiefe one an other, it was hard for the one to recover what was lost since they had lost all, and very difficult for the other to wage warre with the former in his owne home. The Queene of England was brought to bed of her only sonne Prince Edward the thirteenth of October in this present yeare, such as bore ill will to the house of Lancaster and endea­voured the subversion thereof talked lewdly of this birth. They would have the child to bee the issue of adultery; affirming Henry to bee insufficient, whether hee were adulterously got or not was onely knowne to the Queene: but that the King should be unsuf­ficient is a thing which could not by any one bee better knowne then by himselfe, and i [...] to the prejudice of others, he should avowe a child for his owne which he knew was not so, he should not have beene that sanctified Prince which by his very enemies, he was at all times acknowledged to be, in celebration of this birth, or for that he thought it otherwise convenient, he made his two brothers by the mothers side Edmond and Iasper Earles, Edmond who was Father to Henry the seaventh Earle of Richmond, and Iasper who dyed without issue Earle of Pembrooke.

We have already spoken of, and we shall now continue to re­late the art and cunning used by the Duke of Yorke to insnare the 1454. King and Kingdome, his pretensions were just according to the lawes of England, but according to the chiefest of all lawes (which is the peoples welfare) directly unjust; for it is more convenient that a pri­vate man suffer, and smart alone, then the weale publique be ruina­ted and every one smart: for if the meanes to claime be unjust, there cannot any thing be thereunto framed, but an injurious and blame­full justice: he doubted that Henries knowne goodnes would render this his busines difficult, and that the people borne by their love to a Prince who bore the Crowne, not by his owne usurpation, but by two successive discents from Father and Grandfather, both worthy Princes (the house of Yorke never having beene in possession thereof) his pretensions would appeare a dreame, and if not such, yet not such as were likely to be applauded. The evill consequences considered which were to ensue, such controversies not being to bee decided, but by the bloudy law of the sword, and the losse of many an inno­cent life, that therefore they were not likely to forsake Henry long in possession, for him a new pretender, these considerations prevailed [Page 161] so far with him as to keepe him within the bounds of simulation, for doubting that the danger might consist in making knowne his de­signes, he thought it best to make that be beleeved to be done for the weale publique, which was indeed done for his owne ends, and that by taking his former pretences touching the Duke of Somerset; he might take revenge of a mortall enemy, free himselfe of his greatest obstacle, deprive the King of his chiefest leaning stocke, and after­wards purchase the love of all men, the love of the people by the rui­nating a man detested for the losse of Normandy the love of the No­bility, by reducing him who by reason of his too powerfull autho­rity and greatnes was by the most of them infinitely envied. Not herewithall contented, hee forbare to villifie Henries reputation gi­ving him out to bee poorely spirited, and affirming that the condi­tion of the now present times required a King who would not bee governed by his wife, nor any third person, but by his owne judge­ment, a wiseman and endued with such vertues as not being to bee found in him, were requisite in a Prince who was to governe, so as having by these meanes prepared the peoples inclinations, he made firme unto him such as sided with him especially two, the Father and the Sonne, the one Earle of Salisbury, the other Earle of Warwick, the first excellent for matter of councell; the second endued with such qualities as vertue doth not impart, but to those who are ordained for heroicall actions, he wonne the good will of all men by approving his wisedome, and valour with his innate liberality and magnificence. Vertues by how much more solide then others, and proper to make him be esteemed so much the lesse, to be commended in this occasion, altogether unworthy of any manner of praise, he ordered things in this manner, by the assistance of those forenamed, he caused the Duke of Somerset to be arrested in the Queens lodgings, and sent unto the Tower, the which he was emboldned to doe by reason of the Kings being at that time sicke, whose double weakenes both of minde and body had encourag'd him, assisted as he was to worke himselfe into the government.

But as soone as Henry recovered his health, he did not only restore 1455. him to his liberty but made him chiefe commander of Callis (the then the most important charge the Kingdome had) which caused great alterations, for he was thought unfit for the custody of the only place which remained beyond the Sea: who had lost all Normandy, but Yorke perceiving that he had twise failed in his endeavours of ruinating him, went into Wales where having got together a good army, he marched towards London, being accompanied by the forenamed Lords and many others, the King so much distrusted that City as that he would not expect his comming there, but went to en­campe himselfe at Saint Albans, where the adversary presented him­selfe to give him battell, the King had in his campe the Dukes of So­merset and Buckingham; the Earles of Pembrook, Stafford, Northumber­land, Devonshire, Dorset, Wiltshire, and many Barons, amongst which Clifford, Ludley, Berneis, and Rosse, and proceeding according to the peacefull instinct of his nature, he sent some unto him to know why [Page 162] hee came in that hostile manner, and what hee did pretend unto, but the messengers were hardly arriued, when the Earle of Warwick at unawards set upon the Vantguard Royall, and disordered it before the Duke of Somerset could remedy it, so as all forces on both sides gi­ving together a bitter battell was begun: each side made good its sta­tion, no man recoiled so many were slaine, as it was thought, there would not be a man in all the field left alive. The Duke of Yorke stood observing all occurrences, and sent fresh men to supply the place of such as were wounded, whereby he made good the fight, which Somerset could not doe as not having so many men and being more busy in fighting then in making provision. The Royallest were al­most all slaine. The chiefe that dyed there, were the Duke of Somer­set, the Earle of Stafford sonne to the Duke of Buckingham, the Earle of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford, the Duke of Buckingham, the Earle of Wiltshire, and Thomas Thorp Lord chiefe Baron together with some few that escaped, fled away wounded. This victory which hapned the 23. of May, was a good Omen to those that ensued, and to the putting an end to this difference for the prevailing party, though not without shedding their owne teares and bloud, did some few yeares after effect what they desired; the Duke of Somerset left three sonnes behind him, Henry, Edmond, and Iohn, who adding their Fathers revenge to the hatred of the faction, came all of them to mi­serable ends as wee shall see in middest of this good successe.

The Duke of Yorke would confirme the people in the beliefe, that he had taken up armes onely for the good of the commonweale. For the Duke of Somerset being dead (who was the pretended rea­son of his commotion) nothing remained for him to doe but to assume the Crowne, so as having the King in his hands, and under colour of his name, power, to frame the golden age, which all seditious people promise in their rebellions: he resolved to arrive at his end by de­grees, not thinking to meete with any more oppositions; but he was deceived as are all those who not able to effect their desires, but by wicked meanes dare not withstanding bee so wicked as it were requi­site for them to be. Some report, that the King in this occasion was but ill served by the three Lords, that fled, and by his domestique ser­vants their flight caused him to forsake the field, and mightily dishart­ned the few that remained, the King had withdrawne himselfe to a poore mans house, where being found by the enemy, he was with all appearing respect carried from thence and comforted, and made be­leeve that the Duke of Somersets death had established the Crowne upon his head, being come together with them to London. A Parlia­ment was called, wherein all things were decreed directly opposite to what had beene enacted in former Parliaments; to testifie, that the late government had beene unjust, and the King abused by the malice of those that councelled him, Humphery Duke of Glocester was decla­red to have beene Loyall unto the King and faithfull unto his Coun­try, all Donnatives howsoever made whether by patent from the King or by Parliament were revoked, beginning from the very first day of his raigne to the present time, as things which impoverishing▪ [Page 163] the Crowne bereaved the royall dignity of lustre, and that the now spoken of insurrection, though condemned by all lawes might bee thought meritorious; declaration was made, that the Duke of Somerset, Thomas Thorp Lord chiefe Justice, and William Ioseph (the third that governed the Kings will) were the occasioners thereof by detaining a letter, which if it had beene delivered unto the King his Majesty would have heard the complaints, and so taken away the occasion of the aforesaid disorders, that therefore the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Salisbury, Warwick and their associates should not for the future be blamed for it▪ since the action was necessary to free the King from captivity and bring health to the common weale. These pre­tences thus past over they came roundly to their worke, by framing a Triumve [...]at the ground worke of the designed monarchy; Yorke cau­sed himselfe to be created protectour of the Kingdome, Salisbury Lord Chancellor, and Warwick Governour of Callais, so as the po­litique authority remained in the first, the civill in the second, and the military in the third: whilest Henry King onely in name was bereft of all authority and safety; all that had dependency upon the King and Queene, were put from the Councell bereft of whatsoever charge they bore in the City or Kingdome, and Iohn Holland Duke of Exeter was by force taken from Westminster, whither he was fled for san­ctuary and sent prisoner to Pompheret; a sacriledge not formerly ventered on, that I know of by any King. They now thought no more needed to the establishing of their power whilest tyrannies are not established without meanes much more abominable; the Duke of Yorke should have done that wickednes then which once was to be done, and which not long after was done by his sonne Edward. A Kingdome cannot brooke two Kings, and if experience had made knowne unto him his errour in preserving Henries life, his carelessenes was very great to stumble the second time upon the same stone, and thereby loose his owne life as hee did. Moderate evills in such like cases have alwayes beene their authours overthrowe.

The respect due to Henry was not yet so much diminished, nor his Majesty so much darkened, but that Henry the now Duke of Somerset, 1456. Humphery Duke of Buckingham and other Lords that sided with him, resolved no longer to endure the injury that was done unto him, and together with them to quit themselves of the eminent danger that hung over them, for every man saw Yorkes end to be the usurpation of the Crowne, and that his delay proceeded from the feare of danger, for the King being by reason of his sanctifie reverenced by the [...]est, hee thought, hee could not on a sudden compasse his ends without scandall: and the being oppugned by the greatest part of the Kingdome, the [...]ch if it should happen, he should for the present ruine, and for the future totally loose all his hopes. So as consultation being had with the Queene who being highly spirited did with impatiency endure the present subjection;) a great Councell was called at Green­witch, wherein it was resolved, that since he was now no child, and consequently needed not a Protectour, nor was so void of wit, as that he was to be governed by other mens discretions, that therefore [Page 164] the Duke of Yorke should be understood to be freed from his protec­torship, and the Earle of Salisbury from his being Chancellour and that he should surrender the great seale to whom the King should please; Yorke could not fence himselfe from this blow being taken unprovided, and it selfe strengthened with reasons not to be gain­said without a note of rebellion so as he was enforced to endure it, but not without the dislike of such as sided with him, who were not wanting in adding fuell to the fury of the people; by making them rise up in tumult occasioned by a dissention betweene a Marchant and an Italian; which though they did, yet did not things succeed as they would have them; for after having pilledged many houses of the Venetians, Florentines, and Lutchesses, thetumult was appeased, and the chiefe authours thereof punished, but the present remedy had nothing to doe with the threatning mischiefe, and both sides failed therein. The Duke of Yorke since that he did not quit himselfe of his enemy, when he might have done it in expectation of an opportunity, to doe it with lesse danger to so horrid a cruelty, and those of the Kings side in that they durst not venter upon the Duke of Yorks life for feare of some insurrection, since the City was for him, and the greatest part of the greatest adhered more to the hopes of a profitable tumultuous change, then to the preservation of a quiet condition, whereby they could not be advantaged: for the King did no more distinguish of de­serts then doth a distasted pallate of tastes, and the Queene so jea­lous as that shee durst onely trust those who being injured were to run the like fortune with her Husband. But where last extreames are in question extremities are to be chosen, for chance may doe that which councell cannot.

Yorke left the Court confirmed in his former designes by this new affront, whilest the Scotts entered England in one part, and the French in two; the Scotts having endamaged the confines retired themselves with their booty into Scotland, the French pilledged some houses, surprised Sandwich, tooke some ships and returned to Normandy, the surprise of Sandwich did but little availe them for they went away and quitted it, it not being to be made good by small forces against many enemies. England was like a body oppressed by a general distel­lation, humours disperst themselves every where abroad, the vitall faculties which are the lawes had not force enough to repulse them. Thomas Percy Baron of Egremont one who was an enemy to the Earle of Salisbury sonnes, fought with them in open field and slew many of their followers, he thought to have escaped but could not, for the King who would not have the fault to goe unpunished had used meanes to have his body seised upon, and the offended parties being of the contrary party, he (as not willing to be thought partiall in ju­stice caused him to be roundly fined and imprisoned, from whence hee escaped to the much trouble of his keepers, the Queene this meane while not being able to secure herselfe. The King and Kingdome, but by the ruine of the Duke, and the two Earles of Salisbury and Warwick, nor yet able to worke their ruine, but by cosenage and deceipt, made the King to goe to Coventry under pretence of passing [Page 165] away his time in hunting and hawking, and of changing the ayre (she thought London enclined too much to them, and faining some great affaire sent for them by expresse letters from the King, the which they beleeved, and had beene caught had they not beene advertised by their friend which caused them to eschew the danger.

The King was displeased at these proceedings of the Queene as contrary to his good inclination, and being returned to London he 1458. called a councell, wherein having stated the condition the Kingdome was in, he shewed how that the rent and division had encouraged both the Scots, and the French to assault him at home, and that there­fore a reconciliation was necessary, the which if particular mens offences, and the offences of his owne family were likely to impeach, he for his part would forget the injuries done unto himselfe, and would endeavour his kindreds agreement with them, who in the late uproares had spilt their bloud promising that the Duke of Yorke and his followers should in this busines have nothing to doe, but barely to desire. When he had ingeniously said this, every man beleeved him, for of himselfe, he was not accustomed to cousenage. Choise was made of some personages of quality to be sent to the Duke of Yorke, and to those of the house of Lancaster, many of which had forborne comming to the Court since the battell of Saint Albans, they told how they were sent to treate of things necessary and expedient for the publique and private peace, the Duke of Yorke, and the Earles of Salisbury, and Warwick came accompanied with 1500. men, the Duke of Somerset, the Earle of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford waited upon by as many, these were sonnes to the three Fathers slaine in that battell, the Dukes of Excester and of Buckingham, the Lord Egre­mont and almost all the nobility of the Kingdome appeared in like manner: lodgings were severally appointed for them in different places, to shun their encountering, the City was assigned to Yorks faction. The Suburbs to that of Lancaster, the King and Queene lay in the Bishops house, serving as a barre betwixt the two, the Major and Magistracy together with 5000. armed men supplied the place of guard, walking the streets day and night to prevent tumults; those of Yorke assembled themselves together at Black-Friers, and those of Lancaster at Westminster, much a doe, there was to compound the busines, wherein the Archbishop of Canterbury laboured much.

At last, a reconciliation was signed, wherein the offendors being fined in certaine payments to the offended, they all indifferently ob­liged 1459. themselves to the obedience of the King, and to esteeme those as friends or enemies who the King should esteeme such, the which being done a solemne procession was made, wherein all the Nobi­lity of both factions intermingled did walke before the King, in his roabes and diademe, and the Duke of Yorke followed after him, lea­ding the Queene by the arme, but the more discreet might read in their countenances that their ill wills were not changed, according as they endeavoured to make them appeare to be, and as almost im­mediately did appeare.

The Duke of Yorke, and Earle of Salisbury went to Yorke, Warwick [Page 166] stayed at London, his charge of Callais detaining him longer in Court. It hapned, that as he was one day sitting in Councell one of his men fell into contestation with one of the Kings servants, by whom hee was provoked, wounded him and withdrew himselfe to a place of safety. The guard and others of the Court who were hot upon the revenge of their fellow servant, not able to get him who had offen­ded them, reflected upon the person of the Earle his Master, and set upon him as he was comming from councell to take boate, and had beene slaine had he not beene assisted by some: he had leasure to leape into his boate, and recover the City. The Queene were it that shee was misformed of the busines, or that out of malice, shee tooke his pretence to bereave the Earle of his life, commanded his being de­tained, the which if it had hapned he had bin for ever lost. But being by his friends advertised, he hastned to Yorke and brought the first newes himselfe to the Duke, and his Father. He concluded, that the violation of oaths, and of the peace, brooked no more dissimulation, that the last of fortune was to be attempted either to live or dye, and taking leave of them hee went to Callais, to sease himselfe of the Towne as it well behooved him to doe: where hee was received ac­cording to the authority of his charge, which had not beene, had the King given order to the contrary at his departure from London: with­out this fort the Tryumverat had beene ill besieged, for from thence they tooke their first advantage. Yorke and Salisbury were of opinion that this disorder proceeded from the Queenes malice; to the end, that Warwick being slaine they might the easilier be supprest, and al­though they resolved to make use of force, yet they thought best, that the Earle of Salisbury should goe to London, with such troopes as were most in readines, should complaine of the violated faith and demand justice, to the end that if it should be denied, their actions might appeare more justifiable. That the Duke assembling, this meane­while a good army should come to joyne with him, that they might joyntly advise, what resolutions to take according as time and occa­sion should serve, the Earle marched towards London, with neere upon 5000. men, whilest the Queene advertised of his comming, gave order to the Lord Audely (through whose territories, hee was to passe) to give him battell out of pretence that justice ought not be deman­ded at a Princes hands with troopes of men, contrary to the tenure of the lawes; since such proceedings were fit for him that would enforce not entreate: the Baron having this commission meet him neere Drayton in Shropshire with 10000. fighting men. The Earle seeing him­selfe twharted, resolved to fight; so as encamping himselfe neere unto him, the two armies being onely devided by a small water, he tarried there all night, and commanded his bowmen to shoot upon breake of day into the enemies campe: so to provoke him, and at the same time they should retreat. Audely egg'd on by the arrowes, but more by the Queenes expresse command to take the Earle alive or dead, seeing him retire, commanded his vanguard to passe over the water and stay him, he himselfe passing over at the same time, whilest the rest which were on the other side were of no use. Unto him [Page 167] which was the very thing, the Earle aimed at in his retreat, so as tur­ning about he furiously assaulted him. The welfare of his men pro­ceeded from their desparing of faring well, for being certaine to fare ill if they should loose, they resolved rather to dye fighting then to live in shackells, and perchance be hanged. The Baron was one of the first that was slaine and together with him about 2400. more, a sorrowfull happines for some dayes to the Earle, for his two sonnes Iohn and Thomas being wounded in the Battell were both taken as they were providing for their cure, and seeking out a bed in some neighbouring place, they were led away to Chester, and were likely to have fared ill, had not the Inhabitants of that Towne affectionate to Yorke set them at liberty, so as the Earle having recovered them, did plenarily enjoy his good fortune, this battel was the chance which ruined both the parties, though for a while it was fortunate to Yorkes Successor, for God after having chastised the one side, & the other; was pleased to appease his anger, by the uniting of both the houses which put an end to the civill warres.

The Duke of Yorke having received advertisement from the Earle 1460. himselfe of this good successe writ thereof to Callais, from whence came the Earle of Warwick, with a good band of old souldiers com­manded by Andrew Trollop and Iohn Blunt Captains, who were ac­customed to the French-warres, they marched all three to Shrewesbery, so strong as they feared not to meete the enemy, the King who had notice of their designe gathered together a very great army, part of which came for the love they bore to him part for feare of the Queene whose anger was implacable. The Duke had pitcht his campe not farre from Ludlow upon the confines of Wales, whither the King went likewise to plant his, and where they stood looking one upon an other waiting their best advantage, but the Duke thinking it would be dangerous for him to temporise, since consciences are subject to repentance, & the insurrections of subjects against their Princes ought either to be suddenly executed, or not at all undertaken; resolved to give him battell early the nextmorning. The Earle of Warwick had not declare him selfe to the two fore named Captaines to be an ene­my unto the King; so as when they saw; they were led to fight against their owne Prince, in whose service and under whose pay they ever had, and yet did live, they fled to the Kings campe, and acquain­ted the King with the Dukes intention, who imagining his designe was discovered, as it was resolved to flie, which whether it proceeded out of his feare of Trolops valour and wisedome upon whom he had much relied, or for that he thought his example would enduce others to doe the like; I doe not know. He went to Wales, from thence to Ireland together with his second sonne the Earle of Rutland, his eldest sonne the Earle of March; together with Salisbury and Warwick em­barkt himselfe in Devonshire, and made for Iernesey, from whence he went to Callais, where without any manner of difficulties; he and his companions were received: the King sent after the one, and the other but in vaine, he pardoned all that stayd, save some few who could not be left unpunished for examples sake, he sackt Ludlow, and Lud­lowe [Page 168] Castle, hee detained the Dutchesse of Yorke and her Sister the Dutchesse of Buckingham; he banished those that were fled, and by Parliament declared them to be rebells, traitors, enemies, to the Kingdome and confiscated their goods; he disposed of their com­mands, he gave the wardenship of the North marches to the Earle of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford. and the command of Callais to the Duke of Somerset: on the which if he had thought at first (as hath beene said) their ruine had beene inevitable wanting that place of re­fuge, the Duke of Somerset beleeving to have possession given him, with as much ease as hee had the grant of the place, went thither with a good band of souldiers, but being shot at by the cannon from within the Towne, hee withdrew himselfe a little of, and sent unto the Captaines of the garrison to let them know the occasion of his comming, and caused his letters patents to be shewed them, but this availed him nothing nay having retired himselfe to Guines by skir­mishing, from whence he thought to bring them to obedience, his ships went into the haven at Callais, bearing a long with them those to whose charge they were recommanded, who being enemies to War­wick were forthwith beheaded. His skirmishes this meane while did daily diminish the number of his souldiers, the which though it did the like to those within the Towne, yet did they not so much feele the losse for they had every day fresh supplies, many of the same fa­ction flocking apace unto them, from England unsent for, whereupon having advertised the King and Queene of what straits he was in, they dispatcht away unto him, the Lord Rivers and Sir Antony Wood­veile his sonne with 400. souldiers, who being come to Sandwitch had the windes so contrary as they could not put to Sea, the Earle of March had notice of all these proceedings and those of Callais who sent away Sir Iohn Denham with a company of souldiers more va­liant then numerous, who with a winde as favorable to them as it was contrary to their enemies, entred the Haven and Towne of Sand­witch, which being unguarded and free from suspition, her Inhabi­tants thought they might sleepe securely, hee tooke the Lord Rivers and his sonne in their beds, and though the souldiers awakened made head and wounded Denham in the legge, whereupon hee remained lame, hee not withstanding mastered them, hee sackt many houses, hee being favored by the marriners made himselfe master of the chiefest of the Kings-ships, furnished with all manner of warlike pro­visions, and returning to Callais hee presented them to the Earle of March together with the prisoners; the Earle of Warwick made use of these ships to convey himselfe into Ireland to the Duke of Yorke: in his going and returning, hee was so favored by the windes as hee spent not above 30. dayes in his whole journey, but he had come short home being waited for by the Lord Admirall the Duke of Ex­cester in his returne, had not the Dukes commands beene in like man­ner set at nought by the souldiers and marriners, being come to Cal­lais, hee tould them that the Dukes pleasure was that passing into England, they should vexe the King, till both the King and those, hee should bring along with him should come and joyne with them; the [Page 169] King to inhabite their landing had caused the Seaports to bee for­tified deputing Sir Simon Monfort for that worke, who to effect it went to get into Sandwich, but nothing being done in Court, whereof the Earle of March had not notice even by the Kings domestiques, hee sent thither the Lord Falconbridge who tooke it the second time, and sent Monfrot with divers other prisoners unto him, advising him that the inclination of that shire considered, shee should doe well not to loose time, but crossing the Sea, hee should march up to London as to a certaine victory, this advise was approved of by the three Earles, so as having caused Monfords head to bee struck of, and the heads of other twelve leauing good order for what belonged to Callais, they came to Kent where they were met by the Lord Cobham, and so vast a number of others as were esteemed to amount to 4000. fighting men. The Lord Scales both a favorite of King and Queene hearing of their comming, gathered some forces together, and ha­ving in his company the Count de Candale Aguascon and the Lord Lovell, hee hasted to secure London; but being told by the Lord Ma­jor that hee stood not in need of that succour, nor would permit that other men should meddle with what was his charge, he much incensed entered the Tower, understanding by that deniall that the City was not for the King, as the effects made manifest, for when the three Earles came thither, they were received with generall applause, and the Earles of March and Warwick going from thence with 20000. fighting men, the Earle of Salisbury, the Lord Cobham and Sir Iohn Vanlock tarried behind to keepe so important a City true unto them. The Queene (for the King had no thought but of his soules health) had assembled a good army, and Coventry, which conducted the King to Northampton, amongst other Lords there was in that army, the Duke of Somerset, who was newly returned from Guienes, and the Duke of Buckingham they were no sooner come thither, but they heard of the enemies approach, so as passing the River, they went to encampe themselves in the neighbouring fields, the Earle of March egg'd on by his youth, early in the morning began the battell their arrowes plaid on both sides whilest any were left, then they came to handy blowes for 5. houres together without any indifferency. At last the King was the looser with the death of 10000. men, a great losse, but not of so great a consequence as it was, had hee not lost himselfe for being bereft of his defendors who were slaine round about his person, hee fell into the power of the enemy. There dyed of Lords the Duke of Buckingham, Iohn Talbot Earle of Shrewsbery (who fighting valiantly did not degenerate from his Father) the Lord Egremont, the Viscount Beamont, besides many other Knights and Gentlemen: great was the number of prisoners especially of Knights and Gentlemen; for being lighted from horse to fight on foote they had no meanes to save themselves. The Queene, Prince Edward her sonne, and the Duke of Somerset fled to the Bishoprike of Durham, the victor being returned to London inflicted such punish­ments as are accustomed in the injustice of civill Warres; upon such his adversaries as hee found in the City, those who could escape [Page 172] fared better; Thomas Thorp second Baron of the Exchequer endea­vouring to escape was taken with his head shaven like a Frier, and in a Friers habit hee lodged a long time in the Tower, those of the Tower had yeelded upon certaine conditions which not being cleere enough for the Lord Scales his safety, hee thought to escape un­knowne, but being discovered by certaine Watermen hee was taken, slaine, his body wallowing in his bloud and stript of all of his appa­rell left to the publique view of all men, post after post was sent into Ireland to acquaint the Duke of Yorke with this victory, so as perswading himselfe, that nothing now remained to hinder him from possessing the Crowne, hee tooke shipping and came to London at the same time that the Parliament was assembled, hee made his entry with great troopes of men, and trumpets sounded before him, hee made the sword bee carried before as Kings use to doe, onely with this difference that where as it is carried sheathed before them, before him it was carried naked, hee lighted from horse at the Kings pallace of Westminster, and entring into the upper house of Parliament where the Kings throne was, hee laid his hand a good while upon it, as if by that act, hee had taken possession of it, when hee tooke of his hand, hee turned to those that were by, as desirous to reade in their countenances what successe hee should have, and as it is usuall for us to flatter ourselves, in what wee passionately desire, hee thought they approved of what hee had done. But the Archbishop of Canter­bury standing up and asking him if hee would bee pleased to goe and see the King, hee changed countenance and angerly answered him, hee knewe not any in the Kingdome to whom hee ought that duty, but that on the contrary all men ought it to him, so as the Archbishop going forth to acquaint the King with this answer who lay in the Queens lodgings not in his owne, hee likewise went forth and ente­red into the Kings lodgings, where finding many doores sshut, hee caused the doores to bee broke open, to the much disdaine of those who could not brooke so great a pride: since that the King living and in possession of the Crowne for 38. yeares (not numbring those of his Grandfather and Father) at his first arrivall hee by his owne pro­per authority pretended to bee King. But they were more scanda­lized when comming againe into the Parliament house, hee sate himselfe downe in the Kings Chaire under the cloath of State, where after having set a while hee told them a long rabble of reasons, why hee had sate downe in that place, that by the law it was due unto him, and that contrary to the law it had beene usurped by the three last Kings from the house of Mortimer, the lawfull heire to the Duke of Clarence, and lastly from his house of Yorke, the others law­full heire. He exagerated the evill means Henry the fourth used in usur­pingthe Crowne, his cruelty in deposing and murthering Richard the second, the injustice of Henry the fifth in causing his Father to be be­headed at Southampton, that he might establish himselfe, and that he being now of yeares, & without hope of ever enjoying what was his right by faire mean's, was enforced to betake himselfe to force, not for any respect of himselfe, but to restore peace unto the kingdome, [Page 171] which was not to be had by any other me [...]n's, that he ought rather to be praised then blamed for this, since thereby the evills should be redressed which were sprung up and were to spring up, especially under a weake King, who to the so much shame of the English nation had lost France, Normandy, Maine, Anjou, and in one onely yeare; A­quitany after the Crowne had beene hereditarily possessed thereof little lesse then 300. yeares, that for these reasons, hee had taken the Chaire wherein he sate as belonging to him, and that his minde gave him that with their assistance he should restore it to its ancient glory, and that it behooved them as peeres to concurre with him in equall actions affections and ends. When he had done speaking, the Lords wereall so astonished as looking for an answer no man opened his mouth, but all stoode like dumbe immoveable statues, whereat not much contented, hee wished them to think upon what he had said, and being againe desired to goe visite the King, he said God excep­ted) he knew no superiour: two prodigies are said to have hapned at the same time, that the Duke of Yorke alleadged his reasons of laying claime unto the Crowne in the upper house; from the top of the lower house there hung a Crowne with certaine branches serving for Candlesticks affixed to it, and on the top of Dover Castle was an other antiently placed for the adornement of that place. At this in­stant time they both of themselves fell downe, no cause at all being to be given for it, whereupon judgement was made that in like man­ner the Crowne of the Kingdome was to fall; The Duke of Yorke at his very first commotions against King Henry, had sent unto Iames the second King of Scotland, to desire his aide and to acquaint him with his pretensions, but Iames not willing to meddle in other mens affaires answered, that the English had taken many of his Townes, whilest having enough to doe with rebells at home, he had not meanes to defend them, that if he would promise to restore them he would assist him, the Duke promised him so to doe: upon these hopes, Iames assembled a great army, and at the same time, the Earle of Marsh tooke the King prisoner besieged Roxborough. Yorke who had now no more need of him seeing in what danger the Towne was, sent unto him to let him know, that now he had ended the Warre, that he thanked him for the promise of his assistance, but that the siege of Roxborough being a thing which did dislike the people, and him­selfe, thought the occasion thereof, he desired him to rise from before it without endamaging England, and that he had much a doe to de­taine the English from taking up armes to succour it; the King rejoy­cing at the Dukes prosperous successe enquired of the Messengers whether they had any commission or no to restore unto him such places as were taken from him, and as was promised by the Duke to which they answering no, neither will I said he quit a siege, which I hope suddenly to put an end unto uninterrupted by these threats, be they his or the peoples; then playing with his cannon upon the Towne with more fury then formerly such was his misfortune as a peece of Ordnance bursting in two, a spilter thereof slew him, and hurt the Earle of Angus not hurtihg any other body, this acci­dent [Page 172] did notwithstanding breake off the siege, for the besieged wanting all things requisite, and they themselves reduced to a small number by reason of the often assaults, they yeelded themselves to the new King Iames the third, their lives and goods saved.

The death of this King was accompanied by the death of Charles King of France, which though it were not violent, yet was the stran­gest that ever was heard of, being sicke some of his flatterers to make their zeale appeare the more, put a conceipt into his head that surely somebody meant to poison him. He forbare from taking any manner of food seaven dayes, and when his Phisitians tould him that his weakenes proceeded from his forbearing meat and not from any sick­nes, he would have eaten but could not, for the channells through which his meat should passe were closed up; whereupon he dyed, and left the Kingdome to his sonne Lewes the eleaventh.

The difference betweene the King and the Duke of Yorke was by the Parliament, after many disputations thus ended; that though the Crowne had beene usurped by Henry the fourth from Edmond Mortimer Earle of Marsh, then living and did lawfully descend upon him, the Duke of Yorke as borne of Anna the heire of Philips rights, the onely Daughter to Lionell the Duke of Clarrence; yet to withstand the evills which might arise from Henries deposing, who had beene King above the space of 38. yeares; the Duke of Yorke should bee contented, that Henry should raigne as long as he should live, and that after his death, he the Duke of Yorke or his next heire should succeed him in his Kingdome. The next day being all Saints-day, the King with his roabes on, and Crowne upon his head went in Procession to Saint Pauls waited upon by the Duke, who after being proclaimed next heire and protectour of the Kingdome, desired that to annull all jealousies; the King would send for the Queene and her sonne Prince Edward, the which he did, but shee denying to come and having taken up armes to set her Husband at liberty and to nullifie whatsoever had beene done in prejudice of her sonne, the Duke resolved to prevent her; hee recommended the Custody of the King to the Duke of Nor­folke and Earle of Warwick. Hee commanded the Earle of Marsh to follow him with the greatest forces he could get, as speedily as he could, and he himselfe accompanied by the Earle of Salisbury went to Sandalls a Castle of his owne neere Wakefield, where of friends and dependants, he assembled 5000. men, the which, when the Queene heard of, shee hasted to meete with him before he about should joyne with his sonne. Shee had with her above 18000. fighting men, and was followed almost be all the Lords of the Northern parts of England. Together with Prince Edward her sonne, the Dukes of Excester and Somerset, the Earles of Devonshire and Wiltshire and the Lord Clifford, with these shee presented herselfe before the Walles of Sandall's, the Earle of Salisbury and Sir David Hall who councelled the Duke, were of opinion that hee should keepe within the Walles till the comming of the Earle of Marsh, since shee had no artillery to batter the Castle. But hee more apt to generous then discreet resolutions thinking it a shame, that a Woman should keepe him shut up within a [Page 173] Walle, when so many valiant French Commanders in his so many yeares warfare in that Kingdome could not boast of so much, sallied forth the last of December and descended into the fields beneath to confront her; this Castle is seated upon a pleasant Hill, and the Queene having divided her people into 3. parts shee laid two of them in Ambush, under the Earle of Wiltshire, and the Lord Clifford on two sides of the Hill, and with the third wherein were the Dukes of Somerset and Excester, shee met him in the plaine as soone as the Battell was begun hee was environed on all sides, defeated in lesse then halfe an houre, and himselfe valiantly fighting slaine together with 2800. of his men, the Earle of Salisbury was wounded and taken prisoner. Robert Aspell Chaplain to the Duke, and Tutor to the Earle of Rutland, a child of 12. yeares old seeing the ill successe of businesses led his charge forth to save him, but by the Lord Cliffords troopes, and by Clifford himselfe, observed who saw him nobly attired, hee was by him with his dagger in hand demanded who hee was, the un­fortunate Youth struck dumbe with feare with hands held up, and a submisse countenance did tacitely pray for mercy and pardon; the Chaplain who by naming him thought to save him, told him who hee was, and that if he would save his life, he would spend it in his ser­vice, but Clifford swore fearefully, that as his Father had slaine his, so would he doe him and all his race, then struck his dagger to his heart, and went his way rejoycing at the most barbarous and inhu­mane revenge, that ever cruell man tooke. Then casting himselfe upon the Dukes dead body, hee cut off the head, and crowning it with a Crowne of paper, he presented it upon the point of a lance to the Queene: the Earle of Salisbury and other prisoners were beheaded at Pumfret, and their heads together with the Dukes set upon the Gates of Yorke; whilest they rejoyced, who not many dayes after bewailed their owne calamity as did the Queene, or shared in the like fortune as did Clifford.

The Earle of Marsh in Glocester received the newes of his Fathers defeate and death, but being comforted by those of the City and such as lived along the River Seaverne, who were infinitely affectionate to the house of Mortimer of the which he was heire; he with 23000. men ready to spend their lives in his quarrell as they did very well demonstrate, resolved upon revenge, he was ready to be gone when he understood that Iasper Earle of Pembrook brother by the Mothers side to the King, and Iames Butler Earle of Ormonde and Wiltshire fol­lowed by great troopes of Irish and Welsh, were joyned together to surprise him; changing resolution, he made towards them and met them not farre from Hereford; on Candlemas-day, he defeated them and slew 3800. of their men, the two Earles fled away, and Owen Teudor the second Husband of King Henries Mother, and Father to the Earle of Pembrook was taken prisoner, and with others that were taken with him immediately beheaded, though some will have him to be dead many yeares before by the command of the Duke of Glocester.

The Queene at the same time with an army of Irish, Scots, and peo­ple [Page 176] of the North parts of England went towards London, with intention to set her Husband at liberty and to undoe what in the preceding Parliament was done by the Duke of Yorkes authority, to the pre­judice of her sonnes succession. The ill opinion the Citizens had of her, and the feare of being pillaged by those stranger people, made them not onely resolve to put an extraordinary guard into the City, but to take up armes under the conduct of the Duke of Norfolke, and the Earle of Warwick who carrying the King along with them did not remember that his presence brought alwayes ill fortune along with it. They came to handy blowes neere to Saint Albans where though they were not wanting unto themselves, the Queene not with­standing had the victory, the two Lords fled away, leaving the Lord Bonneveile and Sir Thomas Terrill with the King, who might have fled with the rest had they not thought the Kings authority sufficient for their safe guard; in this Batttell 2300. persons dyed, amongst which no person of note except Iohn Graye who that very day was Knigh­ted; The Queene having recovered her Husband made him Knight; Prince Edward her sonne a Child of eight years old, and 30. more of those who had valiantly behaved themselves in the Battell, and perswading herselfe that having caused the principalls to flie, dissipa­ted their partakers and recovered the King, London would bee obedient to her, shee sent command to the Major, to send her in victualls for her men, the which hee obeyed, but the people opposed him and stayed the cartes at the City gates. This examples shewes the errour which some time Princes run into when flattering themselves, they promise themselves obedience from a distasted people, and who without feare of punishment have already begun to disobey. The Magistrate for all hee could say to shew the evill that might ensue could not prevaile for they still cried out the more, that the City had not need to succour them, who came with an intention to pillage it. This disobedience grew yet more obstinate by reason of an insolent troope of horse, who at the same time came from Saint Albans to pillage the Suburbs, and many of them hasting to Criple-gate, the Gate whereat the cartes were stayed and endeavouring to enter, they were beaten back, and three of them slaine to the great trouble of the wisest sort, for it was to bee feared that the Queene being in armes, and so many severall wayes offended would rigorously resent it: The Major sent to excuse himselfe to the Councell which lay at Barnet, and the Dutchesse of Bedford accompanied by the Lady Scales, and some Prelates went to the Queene to pacifie her, they perswaded her, that some Lords might beesent, with 400. armed men, who riding about the streets might appease the tumult, and that part of the Aldermen should come to meet her at Barnet, to bring her, and the King pea­ceably into the City, but all these appointments did on a sudden proove vaine, for whilest they whereupon the execution thereof came the newes of Pembrooks and Wilshires defeate, how that the Earle of Marsh and Warwick were met, and making towards London, so as shee not affying in the neighbouring Countries and lesse in London; went presently towards the Northerne parts; which were affectionate [Page 175] to her; having before her departure caused the Lord Bonnaveile and Sir Thomas Terrill bee beheaded, though the King had promised them safety, whilest shee should have used clemency to winne upon the enemy, not cruelly to make him desperate. The Earle of March on the contrary who for his amiable conditions was in every mans mouth and desires, understanding the Kings retreat rid streight to London, where being received with universall applause, and all the Inhabitants of the neighbouring Countries gone to make offer unto him of their persons lands and goods, hee caused a great assembly of Lords Ecclesiasticall, and Temporall to bee made, and joyned unto them the chiefest of the Commons, wherein when hee had laid open his ancient pretences and the late agreement made in Parliament betweene King Henry and the Duke of Yorke his Father, hee desired, that since that agreement was broken by Henry, Henry might bee de­clared not to have any right thereby to the Crowne (whereas hee was onely King by vertue thereof) and that hee might bee substitu­ted in his place according to the said agreement, and the justice of his claime, the which being by the assembly considered, and the title of the honour of Yorke judged ligitimate, it was declared that Henry having violated the oath, and broken the accord made by the autho­rity of the last Parliament, had made himselfe unworthy of the Crowne, and was by the same authority deprived of all regall ho­nour and title being thereof incapable, and a prejudice to the Com­mon wealth, that instead of him Edward Earle of March sonne and heire to the Duke of Yorke was to bee acknowledged King. The people joy­fully received this declaration, and the next day (which was the fourth of March) hee went to Saint Pauls, where Te Deum being sung, hee made the offering which Kings use to doe, and was in Westminster proclaimed King, by the name of Edward the fourth.

FINIS.
THE SECOND PART OF T …

THE SECOND PART OF THE HISTORY OF THE CIVILL WARRES OF ENGLAND Between the two Houses of Lancaster and Yorke.

WHEREIN IS CONTAINED The Prosecution thereof, in the lives of EDWARD the fourth EDWARD the fifth RICHARD the third, and HENRY the seventh.

Written originally in Italian By Sir Francis Biondi Knight, late Gentle­man of the Privy-Chamber to His Majesty of Great Brittaine.

Englished by the Right Honourable, HENRY Earle of Monmouth:

The second Volume.

LONDON, Printed by E. G. for Richard Whitaker, and are to be sold at his shop at the Kings Armes in Pauls Church-yard. 1646.

To the Readers his beloved COUNTREY-MEN.

I Know it is not usuall to say any thing before Second parts of the Same continued Story; nor, truely, am I so inamour'd of my own Pen as to write more then according to some ac­ception may be thought Needfull. The rea­sons then that drew me to this (otherwise Unnecessary) Epistle, are; First, to let my Readers know, lest I may seem to derogate from my Authour, by tacitely arrogating to My Selfe, that the three Last lives of this Volume are not yet (as I can heare of) printed in Italian, and the Authour be­ing dead, out of whose written Papers, whilst he was here in England, I translated them; I know not whether they may ever undergoe the Presse in the Language wherein they were by him penn'd, or no. My next in­ducing reason is; That the subject of both parts of this Treatise being Civill Warres, and this Second comming forth in a Time of Civill Warres in the Same Countrey, I hope I may be excused for doing what in me lies to perswade to a Happy Peace: whereunto I know no more powerfull Argument, then by shewing the Miseries of Warre, which is a Tragedie that alwaies destroyes the Stage whereon it is acted; and which when it once seizeth upon a Land rich in the plenty of a Long Peace, and full with the Surfeit of Continued Ease, seldome leaves Purging those Superfluities, till All (not onely Superfluous but meere Necessaries) be wasted and consumed, as is sufficiently made to appeare throughent this whole History. I know no Nation in Christendome that could (till of some late yeeres) more truely have boasted of the blessings of Peace, Plenty, and Ease, then this n [...]w Miserable Kingdome of Ours; insomuch as it may be truely said of Us, Quae alia res civiles furores peperit quàm nimia faelicitas? Ariosto sayes.

Non cognosce la pace è non la stima
Chi provata non ha la guerra prima.

[Page] We have now sufficiently try'd both Peace and Warre; let us wisely be­take our selves to the Best choice, and say with Livy; Melior tutiorque certa pax quàm sperata victoria: illa in tuâ, haec deorum in manu est. And what though the ballance of Victory may leane some times much more to the one side then to the other: many Checks may be taken; but the Game is never wonne till the Mate be given: and if you will be­lieve Guicchiardine, who was a Solid and Experienced Statesman, be will tell you, that Nelle guerre fatte communemente da molti Po­tentati contra un solo, suole essere major le spavento che gli effetti; perche prestamente si rafreddano gli impeti primi cem­minciando a nascere varietà de pareri, onde s'indebolisce tra loro la fede e le forze: e cosi spesso auviene che le imprese comminci­ate con grandissima riputatione, caggieno in melte difficultà, e finalmente diventano vane. If all be true that is of late reported, ou [...] two great neighbouring Kings are concluding a Peace; if so, we may invert the Proverbe of Tunc tua res agitur, &c. I believe we are most concerned when Their walls are Least on fire; and unlesse it please Al­mighty God so to inspire the hearts both of our King and Parliament to the speedy piecing up of these unfortunate Rents, and mischieveous Mis­understandings, as that we may have a happy and speedy Peace, cordially agreed on by all sides; I am afraid we may finde my beliefe to be too true; for Civill Warres give faire Advantage to Forraigne Powers. Remember then that an honourable Peace is the Center of Warre, wherein it should rest, and that when Warre hath any other end then Peace it turnes into Publique Murther: and consider that if injustissima p [...]x justissimo bello sit anteferenda, as it is held by some, how Blessed will the Peace-makers be in setting an end to that warre which is by all sides acknowledged to be Unnaturall? having our Saviours word for their attestate, that they shall be Own'd for the Children of God. Ita bellum suscipiatur (saith Cicero) ut nihil aliud quàm pax quesita videatur. That this may be the endeavour of all parties interressed, is the Sincere Counsell and Humble Advise of him who is a Faithfull and Loyall Subject unto his King, an earnest Interceder to God Almighty for a Blessing upon the Parliament, a Hearty Well-wisher to his Countrey: and who wil [...] conclude all with the words of the man according to Gods owne heart [...] Seeke Peace, and pursue it.

Imprimatur

May 18. 1645:
Na. Breut[?].

THE SIXTH BOOKE OF THE CIVILL WARRES OF ENGLAND In the Life of Edward the Fourth.

WIth what ease Edward came unto the Kingdome, is worthy of observation, but hard it is to give a just reason thereof: whether power, Justice, or the peoples inclination. It was not power, since he was admitted of by election; not Ju­stice, for to decide the right of the Crowne without an Assembly of Parliament is not a duty belonging to the people, especially the tumultuous people of a City, though Metropolitan, without the joynt approbation of all the Shires; and say it did by right belong unto him, a busi­nesse of such importance, against a King that was no usurper, who succeeded to two, who for the space of more then threescore yeares (his owne reigne comprehended) were acknowledged and received for Kings, was not to be decided in so short a time: he being Sonne to the last, one of the best deserving and most glo­rious Princes that England ever had, and being King himselfe ever from his cradle for the space of eight and thirty-yeares; so as he had [Page 2] his goodnesse been as usefull as it was innocent, the Duke of Yorke durst not have contested with him for the Kingdome, nor Edward bereft him of it. The peoples inclination was then the onely thing which tooke the Kingdome from the one, and gave it to the other; whereby Princes may learne, that long possession without the practice of Princely actions, and the foregoing such affe [...]tions as are hurtfull and hatefull to the people, is not sufficient for their conservation, especially when they are not naturally indued with such vertues as are pleasing, which Henry was not: for the first advantages which Edward had over him, were the endowments of his minde; and the comlinesse of his person, which though it may decay, is notwithstanding essentiall to captivate mens affections; when accompanied, as his was, with clemency, liberality and va­lour; the most essentiall vertues requisite in a worthy Prince, and most efficacious to make him be desired: and though all these were not wanting in Henry, yet wanted he the most substantiall; and if he had any of them, they were so poorely clad as they wan­ted those characters of Majesty which become a King; and though they were sufficient to content himselfe, yet were not they an­swerable to his quality, nor such as gave content unto the world. Vertues in Princes are lights not to be put under a bushell, but on a candlesticke, to the end that they may give light to all men. Their actions should resemble the Sunne, which generates, nourishes, and propagates. Edward notwithstanding his vertues and good fortune was descended from an unfortunate house, he being the only one (except Edward, sonne to Richard the third who died a child) who of all his house died a naturall death, after it layed pretence unto the Crowne. The Earle of Cambridge his Grand­father was beheaded at Southampton: the Duke of Yorke his Father slaine before Sandall: of his three brothers, the Earle of Rutland was slaine at the same time; the Duke of Clarence drow­ned in a Butt of Malmsey, and the Duke of Gloucester after having strangled his nephewes, was by Henry the seventh bereft both of life and Kingdome. You will meet with no Tragedy, be it or true or fabulous, where you shall finde so many various and cruell deaths as in this family. To dye by the hands of the enemy, or by the hangman, though miserable, is yet ordinary; but by a prodigi­ous brother and unkle, unheard of. As there is nothing more uncertaine, nor more wrapt up in fancy, than to affirme that de­stiny was the cause of this, so is it to be believed that it proceeded only from ambition, which disturbing his counsell and advice, made it endeavour to get the Kingdome at the cost of his owne and others lives. Not any one of them save this Edward, having en­joyed the Crowne unto their end, and that which they did enjoy they enjoyed with such losses, and so much trouble, as that what­soever fortune (so it be within the bounds of honour) may seem rather to be desired than a Kingdome at such a rate. For to live happy being the end of humane nature, it is no happinesse to possesse by violence what is superfluous, but being free from per­turbations, [Page 3] peacefully to enjoy what is sufficient, according to a mans proper state and fortune, which might be enjoyed, were it not that ambition the enemy to true felicitie did perswade us, that no such happinesse had any thing of generous in it. We doe not here exclude all ambition, but rather commend such as doth awake in us good actions. He cannot be said to be good who is not am­bitious of a good report; nor can that ambition be had without an endeavour by our workes to deserve it. Yet when she lives soli­tarily, sequestred from the multitude, in silence and philosophicall habite, no man followes her, nor makes mention of her. A sound body affords not so much matter of discourse, as doth an infirme; nor a State well compos'd, as one mis-govern'd. The one for all her deserts shall be notwithstanding alwaies neglected; and the other, notwithstanding all her vices, pursued; so much is our vanity delighted with her lustre. Moreover, deeds of violence being those which doe enrich story, and which make vertue or vice indifferent, we covet them, alwaies provided that our name doe in some sort live in our posteritie. But the house of Yorke stood not in need of this; It had reason to hope for remembrance in per­petuity, and to be contented with its owne estate, her Nobility was reall: She was for Riches and Title to be envied. This not­withstanding she aspired to the Crowne, she disturbed her owne quiet, and the quiet of the weale publique, for one that reigned, hundred thousands died; and all of the same house came to evill ends excep this Edward, who for his part would not have murde­red his brother, had he not made him selfe King, nor had his sonnes been slaine, had they not beene to inherit the Kingdome. And Richard the third, though naturally wicked, never had attained to the height of all cruelty and wickednesse, had it not been for the thirst of government; so as it had beene better for them to have enjoyed their naturall greatnesse under a moderate ambition, than by an immoderate one to make themselves the subject of Tragedie and to be praised but for a few things in future ages.

Edward being received for King, and for such proclaimed, im­mediately left London. The condition of affaires were not such as would suffer him idly to enjoy that dignity, the duration whereof could not be hoped for but by the ruine of his adversary. He ea­sily gathered together great forces, advantaged therein by his pre­decessors wretchlesnesse. Each man made offer unto him of all he had, he mustered in the field 49000 men, with the which he staied at Pum [...]ret, and sent the Lord Fitzwater to guard the bridge over the River Ayre, called Ferrybrigs, that he himselfe might make use thereof, and inhibit the enemy. Henry on the other side, who by having put to death the Duke of Yorke, thought he had now done all that was requisite, gave the charge of his men to the Duke of Sommerset, the Earle of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford, not so much for that their qualities did deserve it, as for that being inflamed with revenge for their fathers deaths at the battell of St. Albanes, he could not make choice of any more passionately his; [Page 4] And tarrying himselfe, together with his wife and sonne at Yorke, they marched on towards the enemy. As soon as they understood that they had made themselves masters of Ferrybrigs, they made a s [...]and: The Lord Clifford onely advanced with the Light-horse, and setting upon the bridge by breake of day, he easily wonne it; the guards being all asleepe, and not dreaming of the enemy. The Lord Fitzwater awakened with the outcries of those that were slaine, and that did slay, (believing it to arise from some tumult amongst his own men) threw himselfe out of his bed, and unarmed with onely a staffe in his hand, went to appease them. But too late aware of his mistake, he was there slaine, and together with him the bastard of Salisbury, brother to the Earle of Warwicke. They who could saved themselves, the Lancastrians remaining masters of the place. The Bastards death did so much grieve his brother Warwicke, (added to the unhappie successe of the enter­prize, which as being the first he thought might dismay the Army) as hasting to the King to advertise him of the sad event, hee lighted off horse-backe, and thrust his Sword into his horses belly, saying, Flie who flie will, I will not flie; here will I stay with as many as will keepe me company, and kissing the hilt of his Sword by the way of vow, he put it up againe. But Edward who did very much resent this misfortune, not that it was of so great consequence in it selfe, but for that being the first encounter, it might be taken as an evill omen, and deject his men, made Proclamation, that it should be lawfull for whosoever had not a minde to fight to depart; hee promised large recompences to those that would tarry, but death to as many as should tarry, and afterwards runne away, with re­ward and double pay to any that should kill them. No man ac­cepted so ignominious a leave, they all chose rather to die than to declare themselves so base cowards. This good successe of Clifford was in the meane time of no long continuance, for the Lord Faul­conbridge had passed the Ayre at Castleford, three miles above Ferry­brigs, accompanied by Sir Walter Blunt, and Robert Horne, with intention to surprize him, as he did, though not in that place: for Clifford being thereof advertised, whilst hee thought to shunne the enemy by going another way, he met with him, and having his Helmet off by reason of the heate of the day, he was with an un­expected shot of an Arrow one of the first that was slaine, and to­gether with him the Earle of Westmerlands brother, the rest were almost all left dead upon the place. This death was too good for him: The innocent blood of the Earle of Rutland did require of him a foreseen, painfull, cruell death. But the punishment which he failed of, his sonne met withall; who being saved by a poore shepheard, he lived a begger, and unknowne during the reignes of Edward and Richard, till such time as Henry the seventh comming to the Crowne, he was by him restored to the honour and inheri­tance of his family. The Duke of Norfolke, who led Edwards Van­guard was at this time sicke, so as Faulconbridge tooke the charge upon him, and marcht by breake of day towards Saxton, to see [Page 5] how strong the enemy was, and finding him to be 60000 men strong, he advertised Edward thereof, who though much inferiour in number, went forthwith to encounter him. The day was Palm-Sunday. Edward tooke his stand in the middle Squadron, sent the Bow-men forwards, and recommended the rere-ward to Sir Iohn Venloe, and Sir Iohn Dinham both of them valiant Gentlemen. He gave command that no prisoner should be taken, but all indiffe­reetly put to the Sword. The Lancastrians marcht towards them, and met them in the fields betweene Towton and Saxton. The first saluation was given by Arrowes, but with different event, for at this time there fell a showre of snow, and the wind driving the snow upon the faces of Henries men, they were therewith so blin­ded, as they shot in vaine, and their Arrowes beaten backe by the wind, fell halfe way short; the which Faulconbridge observing, after the first volley, hee forbad his men to shoot, and when the enemy had shot all their Arrows he drew up neerer unto them, let­ting flie at them not onely with his owne Arrowes (which assisted by the wind, did hit where they were intended) but those likewise of the enemie, which in his march he found sticking in the ground. Hereupon the Earle of Northumberland and Andrew Trolop who led the Van-guard perceiving the disadvantage, made haste to come to handy-blowes. The combat endured ten houres, it not being known who had the better, and all of them fighting, as if they had overcome. Such was the hatred of the two factions, and their resolution not to yeeld, as the command not to take prisoners was bootlesse, for they resolved either to overcome or die. Nothing doth more encourage an Army then the presence of the Prince, and the Captaines example. Edward was an eye-witnesse of his souldiers valour, as King, and they of his Captaine-like courage. A sight which made them choose rather to die than not to imitate him. The Lancastrians were at last enforced to yeeld, by reason of the small number that was left, not able to make resistance. They gave backe, but not as men overcome; they were still pursued, but did not still flie away; they oftentimes reunited themselves, and though in weake Troopes, they made such resistance, as those of Yorke could not be termed Conquerours till the next day. Those who remained alive went toward Tadcaster-bridge; but not able to get so farre, and thinking to wade over a little rivelet named Cocke, the greatest part of them were drowned. The waters of that River and of the River Warfe, into which it disgorges it selfe seemed, all to be of blood. The number of the dead was 36776. amongst which the Earles of Northumberland and Westmerland, the Lord Dakers, and Wells; and amongst many Knights, Sir Iohn Nevill, and Sir Andrew Trolop. The Dukes of Somerset and of Exceter saved themselves and the Earl of Devonshire was (I know not how) taken prisoner, I believe for that they were weary of killing. Had not France had a yong King at this time, or had the new King found France in a better condition, after so many yeeres warres; or had not Scotland had so yong a child for its King, and distracted with [Page 6] intestine factions, England had runne a danger, having lost the flower of all her Warriers, who were fit not onely to have defen­ded her, but to have made whatever difficult atchievement. Ed­ward having obtained this bloody victory, went to Yorke, where he caused the Earle of Salisburies father, and other of his friends to be beheaded, as likewise the Earle of Devonshire, and some o­ther. This meane while Henry was got to Barwicke, and from thence to Scotland, where he was with all humanity received, com­forted, and had provision made for him of some small pension by that young King, who likewise agreed that Princesse Margaret his sister should marry Prince Edward, Henry's sonne; but this marri­age was not afterwards consummated, and Henry to requite these courtesies, did what if hee had been in his former condition hee would not have done. He gave the Town of Barwicke to King Iames, a place very advantageous to the Scots, and long before desired by them. The Queene his wife went with her sonne into France, to procure some meanes by her father the King of Sicily, whereby to recover what was lost. She obtained of Lewis King of France free accesse for as many English as were of her side, and banishment for those who sided with her adversary; businesses of no great consequences. Edward returned triumphant to Lon­don the 29. of Iune. He was Crowned at Westminster, in a Parlia­ment which was there held, he revoked all such thing as had been done by Henry to the prejudice of the House of Yorke, and of him­selfe; he reformed many enormities, which civill dissention had brought in; he created his two brothers Dukes; George, of Clarence, and Richard, of Gloucester: hee made Iohn Nevill brother to the Earle of Warwicke, Baron, and afterwards Marquesse. He created Henry Burchier Earle of Essex, who was his uncle, as husband to his fathers sister; and the Lord William Faulconbridge Earle of Kent. All which promotions did succeed the deaths of Iohn Vere, Earle of Oxford, and Auberey his eldest sonne, who together with others were beheaded, either through the malice of their enemies, or that the King held himselfe injured by them. By reason whereof Iohn Earle of Oxford his second sonne, was alwaies his profest enemy. Passion makes us alwaies abhorre the authours of our evill. This happy successe of Edwards made many (amongst which the Duke of Somerset, and Sir Ralph Peircy) to change sides: they were graciously received to mercy by the King, who together with their lives, restored unto them their goods, making them thereby in­excusable of second faults. The first plighted faith ought alwaies constantly to be observed, and if by necessity broken, it ought not to be broken againe, for so both the former and latter oathes are violated: an errour common amongst those who esteeme of all ad­vantages, breach of faith the most advantageous.

Queen Margaret did at last obtaine from King Lewis (for the King of Sicily her father could not assist her in any thing) a Troop of 500 men conducted by Monsieur de Varennes, with the which she passed over into Scotland; but she had no sooner landed, then she [Page 7] was forced to re-imbarke her selfe being way-laid by the enemy. So as putting to Sea againe, the Vessell wherein she was, was by a tempest parted from the rest, and not without difficulty put in at Barwicke, whereby she preserved her liberty, which she had lost had she kept with the other ships. For the French being driven upon the shore, and not knowing what side to take (the wind for­bidding them to put to Sea, and the enemy to Land) they tooke such resolution as nature taught them. They prolonged the ruine which could not be escaped; they burnt their ships and re­tired themselves to Holy-Iland, where they were set upon by the bastard Ogle, and defeated, many of them slaine, and 400. of them taken prisoners; Varrennes, and some few more, by meanes of a Fisher-boat got into Barwicke. This bad successe did not allay the Queenes courage: for adding to the Scotish forces such of Eng­land as upon the newes of her arrivall were come to serve her, she together with her husband entered Northumberland, (leaving her sonne at Barwicke) and winning the Castle of Bambury; she past forward to the Bishopricke of Durham. The newes hereof being come to England the Duke of Somerset, and Sir Ralph Peircy (for­getting the late favours received from Edward) did with many others come over to her side. And she affording all liberty to the souldier, as not having wherewithall to pay him, did thereby in­vite all such as had more mind to filch than to fight. Her courage thus increasing with her numbers, she was not aware that such like men are seldome beneficiall; especially when they want Comman­ders who know how to reduce them to discipline. It fared cleane otherwise with Edward. He was not enforced by necessity despe­rately to hazzard his affaires; but proceeded wisely with the counsell and authority of a King, valiant in himselfe, having with him the Earle of Warwicke, a most understanding Commander, followed by the Nobility, and choice men well paid, having ships well rig'd, and well munitioned, in readinesse. Thus hee came to oppose her by Sea and Land. He Commanded the Lord Nevill to goe before him into Northumberland with such forces as were most in readinesse to withstand the dammages which were there done, whilst he prepared to follow him. He fortuned to meet with the Lord Hungerford, Lord Rosse, and Sir Ralph Peircy. He discomfited them all. The first two ranne away at the first encounter; the third; with many others who fought valiantly, was slaine, and as he died, uttered these words, That hee had preserved the Bird in his bosome; as much as to say, He had kept his faith unto Henry. Edward was a cause of this victory, by sending unto him new For­ces, as soon as he was come to Yorke, which infused so much cou­rage into him, as he thought to overcome Henry, and winne that honour himselfe alone, which he could not doe if he should expect the comming of others, and so it fell out: for having notice that Henry was at Hexam, and imagining that if hee should offer him battell hee would not accept it, hee set upon him in his Trenches, and finding him in good order, hee had much adoe to overcome [Page 8] him; But nothing is impossible to a resolution accompanied by ver­tue the mother of courage, which was in him, when it meets with desperation the stepdame of courage, which was in his adversary. The Lancastrians were defeated in their Trenches, and the Duke of Somerset, the Lords Rosse, Moulins, and Hungerford, together with many Gentlemen whilst they fled were taken, and Henry who in all his life-time was never esteemed an extraordinary horse-man, shewed himselfe upon this occasion a very good one; for as he fled many that were very neere him were taken, in particular some that were upon his horses of State, and he who carried his Helmet, or (as others will have it) a Hat adorned with two rich Crowns, which was afterwards presented to Edward, whilst hee yet escaped un­touch'd. The Duke of Somerset was forthwith beheaded at Hexam, the Barons elsewhere, and five and twenty others at Yorke, and in other parts. Many there were that did hide themselves in sundry places; but at such times, farewell friendship and faith, for Pro­clamations being made forth against them, they were taken and put to death. Edward hearing of this victory came to Durham, whi­ther came likewise the victorious Lord, from whence together with his brother of Warwicke, and the Lords Faulconbridge and Scroope, hee went to recover such places as were yet possest by the enemy. The Castle of Anwicke where the Queen had left Monsieur de Varren­nes Governour, was valiantly defended by the French, and those of the garrison, affording thereby leisure to the Scots to come in un­to their succour, thirteen thousand whereof commanded by George Duglas Earle of Angus (ten thousand horse, saith Buchanan) came thither, which the English were not able to resist, being much fewer in number, for they were divided, and were come to this enter­prize with small forces. But Duglas not willing to trouble himselfe with keeping of the Castle, his designe being onely to free the be­sieged without more adoe, left it to the enemy; who on the other side being more desirous of the Castle, than of those that did defend it, were well contented to have it upon these termes. And leaving a sufficient Garrison there, they tooke in Dustansbery[?], commanded by Iohn Ioyce, a servant of the Duke of Somersets, who was sent to Yorke and executed. They tooke likewise Bambery defended by Sir Ralph Gray, who having sworne allegeance to both sides, was before his death degraded from the Honour of Knighthood in this manner: He had a Coat of Armes put on him reverst, his gilt Spurs were by a Cooke hewed off his heeles, and his Sword broken over his head; a thing much more ignominious than death it selfe, espe­cially to a man of so Noble and Worthy a Family. Edward having thus with a little water quencht a flame which was likely to have set all England on fire, fortified all the Frontiers, & built Forts upon such parts of the Sea as were fittest for landing, hee denounced heavie punishments against any who should favour or give recep­tacle to Henry, Queen Margarite, or any of their associates. He for­bare not to use the like care in the other parts of his Kingdome, especially in the Southerne parts, where landing was easiest for such [Page 9] as should come from Normandy. In the places of the Earle of Nor­thumberland and Earle of Pembrooke who were fled with Henry, hee created Iohn Nevill Lord Montague Earle of Northumberland, and the Lord William Herbert Earle of Pembrooke. But Nevill soon after gave up this title to the King againe that he might restore it to Northumberland, who had his pardon, and in recompence he had the title of a Marquesse.

Henry together with his Wife and Sonne was now in Scotland, where all men, his conditions considered thought any fortune in­different for him, as his humour differing from the humour of o­ther men, made them believe a Kingdome and Cottage to be all one to him: But wee may easily erre in our judgements, not so much that we are altogether blind, as by reason of the falshood of the objects which we propound unto our selves; the which presumed to be permanent, doe vary either because of the alterations of the humours of the body, or by reason of the change of opinion, proceeding from the inconstancy of imagination, which together with the diversity of time doth diversifie the thought of our af­faires. King Henry, were it either that his understanding was troub­led, or that he was impatient to live in this condition, or that hee hoped by his presence to put life into his affaires, (which required another manner of man to worke such a miracle) or that his Wife perswaded him thereunto, went himselfe alone into England in disguise. I rather believe his Wife was the cause thereof, for that if it had sprung totally from him, shee would not have suffered him to have put it in execution, knowing how little was to be expected from his dexterity. This resolution, though it were rash, and not to be done but by men of singular judge­ment and valour, was hazzardous enough: Desperate affaires re­quire desperate resolutions. The good King had no sooner set foot into England, but he was known, taken, and with his legges tied un­derneath his horses belly, sent to London, and met by the Earle of Warwicke, not out of any respect, but that he might the more safe­ly be brought to the Tower, where hee was shut up, and a good guard set upon him. The Queen hearing of this misfortune, all her hopes being frustrated, went with her Son into France, the Duke of Sommerset together with his brother Iohn went into Flanders, where they lived miserably, till being long after known by Charles Duke of Burgundy, whose Father Philip died not till the yeare 1467, they had a small pension whereon to live conferred on them by him. Charles was descended from the King of Portugall Son to Philippa, sist­er to Henry the IIIl. and therefore very affectionate to the house of Lancaster. Philip Commines writes, that hee hath seene a Duke fol­lowing this Princes Court, bare foot and bare legged, begging from doore to doore, not being knowne by any man, that hee was the nighest a kinne of the house of Lancaster, and Husband to a Sister of Edward the Fourth; that being at last knowne, hee had a small pension for livelyhood given him by Charles; That the Duke of Sommerset and divers others were there likewise. But he [Page 10] is deceived in his name; hee in the margent calls him the Duke of Chester, whereas there was never any such Duke, the Coun­ty of Chester belonging properly to the Princes of Wales since, the time of Edward the black Prince to this very day. The begger Duke, who had to wife the sister of Edward the Fourth, was Henry Holland Duke of Exceter, who escaped in those parts, and chose rather to begge his bread from doore to doore, than to be knowen for feare of danger. Amongst so many unfortunate men, none did better outlive their calamities than did the Earle of Pembrook, Brother by the Mothers side to Henry, for though hee went a long time wandring up and downe, full of feares and dangers, yet he outlived his enemies, hee saw the extirpation of the house of Yorke, and that of Lancaster reestablished in the person of Henry the Seventh his Nephew, and dyed peacefully in the ele­venth yeere of his Reigne, Earl of Pembrooke and Duke of Bedford.

Henries imprisonment, his Wives and Sons being in France, the flight and banishment of the chiefest of that faction did secure Ed­ward and quieted the Kingdome for a while. This calme afforded him occasion of reforming such disorders as by reason of civill dissention were sprung up in Courts of Justice, in his Revenues, in Monies, and foraine correspondences: and to shew his libera­lity and gratitude to those who had served him, by distributing the confiscated goods which were very many, as many they were who had merited reward, wherein he dealt so fully, as there was not any one unsatisfied. By his affability he afterwards wonne the hearts of all men, but with some observation of excesse; for ver­tues when they part from their center doe usually insensibly passe from one denomination to another; for if affability become fa­miliarity, it loseth its name; not that familiarity accompanied with decency doth not become a Prince, for if he desire to recreate himselfe, no recreation can be had without some kind of dome­stiquenesse; but that it is sometimes to be used, not alwaies; and therein choyce alwaies to be made of the best, most vertuously gi­ven, and those of the noblest sort, for they being in next relation of greatnesse to the Prince, they free him of indifferency, which would make him be despised by all men. Affability which is com­mendable consists in giving free accesse to such as demand Justice, in listning to good counsell, and in looking upon the people with a gratious eye; all which may be done without that excesse which was observed in Edward. To his affability he added clemency, which did not slip like the other out of its naturall precincts; for it being a difficult matter to pardon ones enemies, he pardoned all those who in what manner soever had formerly opposed his great­nesse, so as they would forsake further adhering to such as did yet persist in their aversenesse to him. The part of a wise man, for by this meanes hee got the hearts of those who were opposite unto him before; and hee afterwards found the good thereof, when losing his Kingdome, as hee did, he never had recovered it, had he not thus wonne upon the peoples affecti­ons, [Page 11] which is the Prince his chiefest safeguard. Publique affaires being thus accommodated, he descended to what more particularly concerned himselfe; which are not notwithstanding to be separa­ted from what concernes the State. Marriage from whence pro­ceeds lawfull successours, is the strength as well of Kingdomes as of private families. Three marriages were propounded to him. The first, Marguerit sister to Iames the third King of Scotland, whose advantages were the breach of the marriage with Edward sonne to Henry, and thereby the undoing the chiefest hopes of the house of Lancaster. That upon any new occasion of civill broyles, he should either have Scotland side with him, or remaine neuter. He should thereby free himselfe from the daily troubles nourished by the obstinate enmity of so hardy and warlike a neighbour. But under­standing that she was of a sickly body, and consequently not likely to beare children, he would none of her. The second was Isabell sister to Henry the fourth King of Castile, his hopes by her were the succession of that Kingdome, and by the assistance thereof the recovery of Gascony; in like manner as by the assistance of Gascony, given by Edward the blacke Prince, King Peter father to the great grand-mother of this King Edward, recovered Castile. The English writers say, that her being too yong, as not being then above six or seven yeeres old, was the cause why that match was no further proceeded in. But I finde that she being married to Ferdinand, and dying Queen of Castile, not when she was three and fifty yeeres old, and in the yeere 1506. as Edward Hall doth calculate it, but in the fiftieth yeere of her age, and in the yeere 1504. she must be in the yeere 1464. (which was the time when this marriage was treated of) thirteen yeeres old; so but ten yeeres younger than Edward, so as their yeeres were not unproportionate. Halls calculation is grounded upon the stories of Spaine, which he does not particularize in; and upon an Epitaph ingraven upon this Queenes tombe in Granado, which he never saw. Mine upon the Spanish storie written by Lewis Myerne Turquet, my father in law, a most exact writer, and by the Jesuit Iohn Mariana, who saith she was borne the 24. of May in the yeere 1451. So as some other cause made him not choose her. The third was Bona, daughter to Lodowicke Duke of Savoy and sister to Charlotte Queene of France, with whom she at the present was. This was imbrac'd, the Earle of Warwicke was sent to Lewis the eleventh to demand her of him, neither could Edward put on a better resolution. For his affaires in England being setled by Henry's imprisonment, no feare was to be had of Scotland, without aide and provocation from France, which was not better to be eschewed by any meanes than this; for though Charlotte bore not such sway with her husband as to go­verne him as shee listed, yet held shee very good correspondency with him. And Lewis (whose onely ends were to lessen the power of the Princes and great Lords of France, particularly that of his brother Charles, and the two Dukes of Brittany and Burgundy) laid willingly hold upon this occasion to acquit himselfe of the impor­nity [Page 12] of Margarite Queene of England, who endeavoured to per­swade him to a dangerous and fruitlesse warre, and which was averse to his genius and designes by withdrawing him from the other, to the which reason and his owne inclination bore him. Moreover the Duke of Savoy having been an ancient confederate and neere allie to the Duke of Burgundy, this would be a meanes to marre their intelligence, for though he were his father in Law, such ties amongst Princes, unlesse they be knitted with new knots, are subject to be loosed and broken by every daies occasioned interest. For these reasons this match was agreed upon between King Lewis and the Earle of Warwicke; and Monsieur de Dammartin was sent into England to strike it up with Edward. But whilst Warwicke thought he had succesfully executed his Masters commands, he unexpected­ly heard that hee was married. Edward was gone a hunting pro­gresse towards Grafton, a house belonging to Iacoline of Luxenburg, sister to the Count St. Paul, wife to the Lord Rivers, and widdow to the Duke of Bedford, who died Regent in France. With her was a daughter of hers named Elizabeth, widdow to Sir Iohn Gray, who was slaine in the second battell at St. Albans siding with Henry; so as having lost a part of her Jointure by the confiscation of her husbands goods, shee desired him to conferre it againe upon her. She was a woman of no extraordinary beauty, but of such condi­tions, as surpassing what was in her of beauty, made her to be va­lued and beloved by all men. The King did not onely grant her what she desired, but growing in love with her, became her peti­tioner for wanton dalliance, which she resolutely denied to yeeld unto. His appetite increasing by meeting with an obstacle, he re­solved to marry her, taking therein advice of those who never counsell Princes contrary to their inclinations. Yorkes Widow the Kings mother foreseeing the evils that were to ensue, admoni­shed him. She bid him beware of the injury hee did his cousin the Earle of Warwicke (the Dutchesse was sister to Warwickes Father) whose spirit would not endure such an affront, since the King of France would not believe that he was come to treat of a match, but to cousen him, laugh at him, and pry into his state; nor was it likely hee could thinke otherwise, since that hee having got the Crowne by the Earles valour and the pursuit of his friends, it was not likely that beeing so neere a kinne unto him, and a man of so great an esteem, he should offend him by doing so mis-becomming a thing without his knowledge. She shewed him how that the marriage of Princes had for their ends the good of their State, the alliance of such as could or doe them good or harme, and portion proportionable to the charge of a wife, and their own reputations. That none of all these were met withall in this which was now treated of; rather in laying a foundation for a peace, hee should offend a great King, and expose himselfe to so unjust a warre (the cause whereof being blame-worthy) as he should not therein finde any friends or confederates. That yet if she were a maid, it might admit of some excuse; but being a mother of children, a subject, [Page 13] and without portion, these were conditions likely to produce, in­stead of benefit, hatred and enmity abroad, hatred and enmity at home, danger and blame every where. Edwards answer was, that he doubted not but that his cousin would conforme his will to his; that he was sure enough of his love; that the King of France was not in a condition to hurt him, having other thoughts which did more neerely concerne him; that nothing could be more accep­table to subjects than to take a wife from amongst them, since chil­dren must issue from the same blood; that for portion he valued it not, having more than he knew what to doe withall; that for all other inconveniences, contentment in a wife, with whom one was to live and die, did out-weigh them all. His mother finding her perswasions to be of no force, bethought herselfe of another means, which proved alike vaine. The King upon promise of marriage had wrought to his desire a Lady of great birth, named Elizabeth Lucy; She alledged, that since before God this Lady was his legitimate wife, he could not marry any other. An impediment which delayed his satisfaction in the other, for the Bishops required proofe there­of. But the Lady Lucy examined upon oath, in opposition to the instigation of the Dutchesse and her owne honour and interest did depose; that the King did never passe unto her any direct pro­mise; but that hee had said such things unto her, as had shee not thought them thereunto equivalent, shee had never condescended to his will; Upon this deposition the King did privately marry the other, the marriage being afterwards published by her Co­ronation.

None were pleased herewithall, the Nobility lesse than the Communalty: their greatnesse being obscured by the sudden splen­dor of the Queenes kindred. Her father was created Earle Rivers, and shortly after made Lord High-constable of England. Her bro­ther Anthony was enricht by the marriage of the daughter and heire of the Lord Scales, which Title was likewise conferred upon him. Her sonne Thomas Gray, which she had by her former hus­band did afterwards marry the daughter of William Bonneville, Lord Harrington, and was created Marquis Dorser. Historians ob­serve many mischiefes that ensued from this marriage, besides the death of so many that was caused thereby. Edward did thereby lose his Kingdome; his children were declared to be bastards, and strangled; the Queenes house extirpated; the Earle of Warwicke and his brother slaine. But they name not the death of King Henry and his sonne, which had not hapned had not the Earle of Warwicke for this cause taken up Armes. King Lewis though thus abused, did not suffer himselfe to be transported by passion, but making use of his naturall dissembling, expected a time for revenge. And to pacifie the two sisters, hee not long after married Bona to Ga­liazzo Maria Sforza Duke of Milan, sonne to Francis; but not with so good successe as Hall reports; for her husband being slaine, she within a few yeeres became a widdow, and by her ill government afforded occasion to his cousin Lodowicke Sforza to take from her [Page 14] the government, and the government, life, and Dukedome from her sonne Iohn Galeazzo.

The Earle of Warwicke this meane while wounded in his repu­tation, parted from France more sensible thereof than he made shew for; he could not though so farre cloake his anger, but that Lewis was aware of it. Being returned to England, he so behaved himselfe with the King, as that he seemed not to be at all distasted, whilst this present injury did call to mind many other formerly re­ceived, which would not though have hurried him to his ruine, had it not been for this. He saw how the King did apprehend his great­nesse, and grew jealous thereof; that his designe was to suppresse him, when himselfe should be better established; that he thought not himselfe King, whilst men thought him as necessary to the con­servation of the State, as he was to the obtaining thereof. That the services hee had done him were of such a nature as to shunne the tie of obligation, ingratefull people doe oft times desire to rid themselves of the obliger; That the state of businesse was such as would not suffer him to be debarred the communication there­of, though Edward thought hee did thereby communicate unto him his government, and made him Colleague of his Kingdome; That he had sought after all occasions to bereave him of mens good opinion. All which made him believe that he was sent into France to this purpose. To this may be added (and which boyled in him more than all the rest) that Edward would have dishonoured his house by tempting the honesty of, I know not whether, his daugh­ter or his neece; wherein though he did not succeed, the offering at it ceaseth not to be mischievous and wicked, as a thing whereby he endeavoured to dishonour the family of his kinsman, servant, and benefactor. All these things put together, begat in him such an hatred, as hee resolved to depose him, and re-inthrone Henry, as soone as a fit occasion should present it selfe. And though hee retired himselfe to Warwicke, under a pretence of an indisposition of health; yet did the King spie his discontents, though not so much as it behoved him to have done: for hee thought him not so sufficient to depose him, as he was to raise him up; and that out of two reasons: First, that Princes doe seldome mistrust their owne power, especially with their subjects; secondly, for that they doe believe the injuries they do are written in Brasse by those who receive them, whilst they who doe them, write them in Sand. The Queene was this yeere delivered of a daughter, named Eli­zabeth, who put a period to the Civill warres, by marrying with Henry the VII.

Edward did this meane while peaceably possesse his Kingdome, his enemies were all or slaine, undone, or frightned. He had 1466. none to feare save France, and her but a little; for Lewis was more inclined to wage warre at home than abroad. Hee forbare not though to joyne friendship with Iohn King of Arragon, who upon occasion might by way of diversion assist him in Languedocke, a good, though deceitfull foresight: for it often happens that many [Page 15] yeeres are spent in the cultivating of a friendship, which proveth faulty in the harvest. Yet wisdome it is to manure such as put us not to too great charge, for the opinion of having friends weighes with our enemies. This friendship occasioned the transportation of a great many sheepe into Spaine, whereby England was as much impoverished as Spaine was inriched. He likewise, for the same respect, concluded a Truce with Scotland for 15 yeeres. But the friendship of the Duke of Burgundy was that which most availed him, and which re-established him in his Kingdome when he had lost it.

Philip the Duke of Burgundy did yet live, and his sonne Count Caralois, who by two wives had one onely daughter, (afterwards the sole heire of all those Territories) the Duke was minded to marry him the third time, hoping to secure the succession by issue male. He bethought himselfe of Margaret sister to Edward, a Princesse of great beauty, and indued with a spirit not usuall to her sex; but her being of the house of Yorke made him stagger in his resolutions: For that the Queene of Portugall his wives mo­ther was a daughter of the house of Lancaster, by reason whereof her sonne Charles did love that house and hate the other. But since he could make no alliance of more jealousie to France, nor of more commodity to the Low-Countreys, he sent Anthony the eldest of his naturall sonnes, commonly called the Bastard of Burgundy, with some others, Ambassadour into England to this effect. He came with a retinue of 400. horse, with rich Live­ries and richer furniture. He was graciously received by the King. The businesse being propounded in Councell, none with stood it but the Earle of Warwicke. For framing the Rebellion which hee had formerly plotted with himselfe, hee conceived this match would be harmfull to Lewis, on whom he intended to relie, and good for Edward, whom he intended to destroy. But he having but one vote the Ambassadours request was granted, and Edward promised friendship to the friends of Burgundy, and enmity to his enemies; He presented his sister to the Bastard, and other Ambas­sadors, who kissed her hand, as their Princesse, and presented her with very rich Jewels, which she accepted of with termes of grati­tude both to her father in law; and husband. Great were the enter­tainments that were made. Challenges at Tilt passed between the Bastard and the Lord Scales the Queenes brother, and between his followers and the English Gentry, the which I passe by, as not re­quisite to our story. In midst of these revellings came the newes of Philippes death, which much grieved the Bastard, so as taking leave of the King, and of the new Dutchesse of Burgundy, and be­ing richly presented, he passed over into Brabant, and made such a relation to the Duke his brother, of his Bride, as did very well satisfie him. Who as soon as he had appeased the Legeois (where­in he spent some time) he desired Edward to send her over unto him, according to the Articles of the Contract; which he forthwith did. She tooke shipping at Dover being attended on by 500. horse, and [Page 16] accompanied by the two sisters Anne Dutchesse of Exceter, and Eli­zabeth Dutchesse of Suffolke. She landed at Slewes, and went from thence to Bourges, where the marriage was celebrated.

The Earle of Warwicke could not at length so well dissemble his distasts, as that the King did not perceive them. But Princes are not wont to give satisfaction to their inferiours, especially to their subjects, lest they might tacitely confesse those faults, into which as being exempt they pretend they cannot fall; or else shew some sort of humiliation repugnant to their greatnesse. This increased the Earles indignation, for surposed ignorance admits of excuse, which confest knowledge doth not; so as thinking himselfe inju­red before, contrary to all reason, and his injury being now doub­led by the no account that was made of it, he resolved forthwith to doe what he along time before had thought upon. And so dan­gerous resolutions not being to be undertaken without assistance: he judged the assistance of his owne brothers fittest, the Archbishop of Yorke, and the Marquesse. When he had begun his discourse, and laid open the reasons which moved him thereunto, hee made an odious Parallell between Henry and Edward, magnifying the gratitude and goodnesse of the former, the ingratitude and wic­kednesse of the other. He shewed how that their house had been the forwardest to spend their lives and livelihoods in the service of the Duke of Yorke the father, and of Edward himselfe, to make him King, who had not recompenced them according to their high deserts, and yet durst upbraid them with having been the raiser of their house, whilst next under God they ought their chiefest ho­nour to Henry; that not contented thus to vilifie them, he had en­deavoured to dishonour their family, and render it infamous by at­tempting to vitiate a daughter thereof. He exaggerated the affront about the match with the Lady Bona, which would not have been offered to the most contemptible man in the world; Moreover that he had no waies excused it unto him, but passed it over in si­lence, not weighing that a mans honour ought to be more deare unto him than the apple of his eye, or life it selfe. Yet that he did not wonder at all this, for that Edward judging other men by him­selfe, he thought other men should make as small account of their honour, as he had alwaies done of his promises. That his resolu­tion was to doe what possibly hee could to take from him that Crowne which he had placed on his head, and place it againe upon Henry, a good and lawfull King. That since they did partake with him in the injuries, they ought likewise share with him in the re­venge; which would easily be effected if they would chearefully and heartily betake themselves unto it, as they ought, and as the chiefest of the Kingdome would doe: And that he did assure him­selfe they should not want assistance from Princes beyond the Seas, necessity requiring it.

This proposition as it was unexpected, so was it not at the first accepted of by the brothers. But the Archbishop after long disputes giving way thereunto, the Marquesse, though with much difficulty, [Page 17] suffered himselfe at last to be perswaded likewise, moved by the tie of blood, not any inclination of his owne, for he loved Edward, and was beloved by him. This ambiguity was the ruine of them all; for hee not able to deny his brothers, nor yet to betray his Prince, did amisse on both sides. He assisted Edward, by not cor­dially assisting his brother, and he betrayed his brother, by not heartily betaking himselfe to betray Edward. Warwicke having laid this first groud-worke of his ruinous building, he pursued the fabricke thereof with the Duke of Clarence, for seeing him no waies pleased hee resolved to trie him. Hee seemed to be sensible of the coolnesse used by the King of late to the Duke, and expected what he would reply. But he like a Cornet which with the first breath sends the sound abroad, answered, It was in vaine to complaine of things ancient and desperate. That the King was in his owne na­ture disobliging and ungratefull, and most to such as he was most obliged unto. That since he made no account of his owne brothers, much lesse would he doe it of other friends. That he more valued his wives blood than his owne. That he had disposed of three rich heires by marrying them to her sonne, her brother, and the Lord Hastings, Mushroms sprung up in one night, not having any con­sideration of his owne brethren. Continuing in such like angry and threatning discourse, hee gave the Earle occasion to lay him­selfe open unto him, who offered unto him his daugher, with equivalent portion to those that he had named, with numberlesse other promises and hopes. The Duke was so blinded with his anger as hee minded not the injury he did unto himselfe; that fa­vouring the house of Lancaster (the thing now in question) hee destroyed his owne. When it was more available to him to have his brother King, than all the good could derive to him from this his ill taken advice. The Earle more blinde than he did not con­sider the interest of brotherhood and blood, which being of no force then, would much prevaile when his passion should be over; since that hee could not pretend to any honour which would not come short of the condition now he was in, the which, this resolu­tion once taken, he was for ever to lose. Great therefore was the Earles folly to ground a businesse of such importance upon two so wavering foundatious, as upon his owne brother forced there­unto, and his brother, whose destruction was desired, since hee must needs repent himselfe at last. The order they tooke was to retire themselves to Calleis. That the Marquesse and Archbishop should under-hand procure some insurrection in the Northerne parts of the Kingdome, and so give the occasion of the warre, whilst they being on the other side the Sea, might not be thought Authors of it. Being thus gone to Calleis, and having vowed by the holy Sacrament to all things agreed upon betweene them, the Duke upon the aforesaid promises and hopes, married the Earles daughter.

The two brothers being gone to Yorke, whereof the one was president, the other Archbishop, failed not to put in execution [Page 18] what was agreed upon. There was in that City an Hospitall dedi­cated to St. Leonard, where by an ancient institution the poore were fed, and the diseased healed. So as there was no owner of ground in all that shire, who moved by so good a worke did not in the time of harvest give some proportion of Corne thereunto; the which at first was voluntary, but in the processe of time cu­stome made it be thought a due debt, and Collectors were chosen for the gathering of it in, who were opposed by none. Now to give a rise to the intended insurrection, and make way for their impiety, they thought no meanes better to effect it, than by the way of piety, which when disguised, mades things appeare o­therwise then they are. They made a speech be spred abroad that the Hospitall having sufficient revenues of its owne, had no neede of the contribution of Corne, since the poore were not the bet­ter, and that the Provost and Priests grew onely rich thereby, so as it was a folly to continue the contribution. It was no hard matter to perswade the people hereunto, since no argument is of greater force, than self-interest. This newes passing from one mouth to another, the people did not onely deny the wonted contribution, but wounded some of the Collectors, who were forwardest in the gathering of it in. Many being herewithall aggrieved, about some 15000 men gathered themselves together, and went towards Yorke. The Inhabitants of that City were sur­prised at this newes, not knowing whether they should keepe within the Towne and defend their Walles, or salley forth and give them battell. The Marquesse eased them of this trouble, for having made a select choyce of not many, but good men, hee en­countred them and overcame them, killing many of them, and taking many of them prisoners; amongst which Robert Huldurne their leader, whose head he caused to be strucke off. Some were of opinion that having beene himselfe the cause of this insurrecti­on, hee had done this service the better to deceive the King, to the end that not being thought confederate with his brother, hee might the easilyer worke him mischiefe. But this and other acci­dents that happened make others thinke otherwise, for if such had beene his intention, he could not have wished for a better occasion; for hee might have joyned with those Rebells, have ruined the King, and advantaged his Brother; and hee himselfe being the author thereof, as hee was believed to bee, either hee ought not to have occasioned it, if hee had desired to serve the King, or else not have broken it, had he desired to assist his Bro­ther. I for my part believe that repenting himselfe of the first action, hee made amends by the second. But if hee were faithfull to his Prince, hee was a Traytour to his owne bloud; not that loyalty to a Soveraigne ought not to be preferred before all other respects, but his brother doing ill, he should not have confirmed him therein by treacherously complying with him, hee should have disswaded, not betrayed him. And hee having governed him­selfe from the beginning of this enterprise very uncertainely, [Page 19] makes mee believe him to be, if not treacherous, (which I am in­duced not to thinke since hee suffered for it) yet irresolute in his undertakings either for the one or the other side. The Rebells were not disheartned for all this, but growing thereby more incen­they tooke for their Leader the Sonne and Heire of the Lord Fitshue, and Henry Nevill, Sonne and Heire likewise of the Lord Latimer, both of them young men, but chosen (under the directi­on of Iohn Conniers, one of the most valiant Gentlemen of all those parts) for that the one of them was Nephew, the other cou­sin to the Earle of Warwicke. They would have gone againe to­wards Yorke, but wanting Artillery, they marched towards Lon­don, with resolution to doe what they were able, to make Ed­ward bee deposed, as being no lawfull Prince, and of prejudice to the Common-wealth. Edward was not ignorant of all the Plots, but judging that if the Rebells should come neere London, it would redound much to his dishonour, hee writ to William Herbert Earle of Pembroke, willing him to gather together all the Forces he could, and not to suffer them passe further on. The Earl obeyed, not more out of gratitude for the honour hee had received, than out of his desire to doe some action of merit, and most of all, for that ha­ting Warwicke (who had hindered his Sonne from marrying with a rich Heire) hee coveted revenge: so as taking with him his Brother Sir Richard Herbert, a very valiant Gentleman, and as­sembled together some six or seven thousand Welchmen well arm­ed, hee went to meete them, and was met by the way by the L. Humphrey Stafford, who led along with him 800 Bowmen. But not knowing what way the Rebells tooke, hee went sometimes one way, sometimes another, till being advertised that they came by Northampten, hee tooke that way, and being desirous to know their Number, and their Order, Sir Richard Herbert offered to make the discovery. Hee together with 2000 good Welch Horse tooke shelter by a Woods side, by the which they were to passe. They were already past by him, when hee desirous to returne with his relation to his brother, his men would by all meanes fight with them, neither could hee withhold them from furiously as­saulting the rereward, which marching in good Order, as if they had expected to be set upon, turned faces about, and fighting va­liantly slew many of them, and tooke many prisoners, and made the rest retreate, too late sorry that they had not obeyed their Leader. The King was not any whit dismayed at this newes, but encouraging the Earle, commanded him to finde them enter­tainment till hee should send more Forces to him, or come him­selfe in person. The adversaries though somewhat proud of this good successe, did not become more insolent. But considering that they were likely to meete with many such bickerings before they should come to London, and not likely to hold out against them all, their numbers not being answerable to the way they were to goe, they turned towards Warwicke, intending to expect the comming of the Earle thereof, who being come from Calleis, did [Page 20] together with his Sonne in Law, raise people in all parts. But be­fore either the King or Warwicke got thither, fortune brought the two Armies face to face, within three miles of Bambery, in a cer­taine place, where were three hills. In two whereof the two Ar­mies were encampt, the third left to the successe of fortune, not assayed by the Welch, because they could not without much haz­zard make themselves masters thereof, though they had a great minde so to doe. The Earle of Pembrooke and the Lord Stafford were lodged in Bambery; where to shunne disputes which upon the like occasion might arise, they agreed each of them to take such lodging as they first should light upon. The Baron being lodg­ed to his liking, the Earle (forgetting his agreement and using his authority) would, I know not why, have him change lodging, the which he unwillingly did, because so doing he was to quit the company of a Gentlewoman whom he found lodged there. And having no other meanes to shew his resentment at the pre­sent, hee together with all his people left the Towne, leaving the Earle without any Bowmen, who by their shooting were likely to bee the best advantage of the Battell. The Earle was not herewithall dismayed, but going to the Campe, tooke any re­solution rather than to retire. It was just the day after St. Iames his day, when Sir Henry Nevill, Son to the L. Latimer, thinking hee had been too long idle went forth to skirmish early in the morning, be­ing followed by a company of light horse. But delighting more therein than he had reason, hee so far advanced himselfe, as not knowing how to retire, hee was taken, and soone after put to death upon coole bloud. His youth, nobility, and valour (the chiefest of all endowments) not being sufficient to save him. This act of cruelty incensed the Northerne people, who resolving to revenge his death, let flie their darts at the hill where the Welchmen lay, whereby in­forcing them to come down into the plaine, where the battel began. It was not sufficient for the E. of Pembrook, who fought upon disad­vantage, to execute the part of a Commander, it behoved him to play the part of a souldier; whilst his brother S r. Rich. Herbert, mind­ing nothing but the battel, did so behave himself as the true story of his valour is not to be exceeded by any fabulous Romanza; for mak­ing way through the enemies troops, with his sword in his hand, he passed twice through the whole length of their army, returning to his own men, if not untoucht, yet without any mortall wound. The which (as I believe) was occasioned for that his worth admired by those that saw it, did by joyning delight with danger, and wonder with delight, with-hold the hands of all men from injuring him. The battell did almost totally lean to his side, when Iohn Clapham, a Ser­vant of the E. of Warwicks (who had gathered together 500 of the poorest & basest sort of people about Northampton) appear'd upon the top of one of those hils with a white Beare in his Ensigne, crying out, a Warwicke, a Warwicke, the which did so much frighten the Welch, as believing Warwicke to be there with all his forces, they began to fly, Sir Richards valour not being sufficient to detain them. [Page 21] In this flight (the prisoners not numbred) 5000 men were slaine. The Earle of Pembrooke, his brother Sir Richard, and many other Gentlemen wer taken prisoners, and without any triall at Law be­headed at Bambery. The Earle who was appointed first to suffer, addressing himselfe to Conniers and Clapham, entreated them in the behalfe of his brother; hee objected unto them his youth and comelinesse of stature answerable to his Martiall mind; that his valour, even by themselves admired, might one day be serviceable to his Countrey. But Sir Henry Nevils death had so exasperated them, as that it occasioned his death, the death of his brother, and of many others. A lamentable Tragedy presented by so worthy men. So as it is no wonder if vertue be hated, since it is not use­full, but rather harmefull to the owners thereof. Sir Edward Herbert Baron of Cherbery doth at this time live, descended from them, a Gentleman, who hath given such proofe of his valour, as well in his owne private occasions in England, as in the warres in the Low-Countries, as hee may justly be said to sympathize with the said Sir Richard; but in schollership he hath the advantage of adding that glory to his Ancestors by his famous Philosophicall compo­sures, which in the like kind hee hath not received from them. Their cruelties did not here cease; for those of Northampton ha­ving chosen unto themselves one Robert of Risdale for their Cap­taine, and joyned certaine others unto him, they surprized the Earle Rivers, father to the Queen, and his sonne Iohn, in his man­sion-house of Grafton, brought them to Northampton, and without more adoe beheaded them. The Lord Stafford was generally ac­cused for the losse of this battell, who for so sleight a cause, and upon so urgent an occasion forsooke the Kings service, to revenge himselfe upon the Earle of Pembrooke. And to say the truth this misfortune had not hapned, at least not with the death of so many and so worthy men, had hee been there. Edward therefore sent forth Commissions to the Sheriffes of Devonshire and Somersetshire to seeke him out, finde him, and upon paine of their lives to put him to death. They were not wanting in diligence, they found him where he thought he had been sufficiently concealed, and exe­cuted their command. The victors this meane while had retired themselves to Warwicke, whither the Earle thereof was come with a great body of armed men. And understanding that the King was marching towards him, hee advertised the Duke of Clarence, who forthwith joyned with him, bringing along a great number of ar­med men. They were likely presently to have come to blowes ac­cording to the custome of England, had not some great personages desirous of peace, and of the good of the Weale publique inter­posed to finde some way of accommodation. This negotiation made Edward so carelesse, as that confidently believing in peace, hee neglected all duties of Military discipline; whilst Warwicke more wary than he, being by his spies certified of the Guards neg­ligence, and the heedlesnesse of all the rest, who behaved them­selves as if no enemy had been, set upon the King by night, and [Page 22] without any resistance tooke him prisoner. A blow likely to end the difference without blood-shed. He first put him in the Castle of Warwicke; from thence (that no man might know what was be­come of him) he sent him to Medlam a Castle in Yorkeshire, then in the custody of the Archbishop his brother. But as through neg­ligence he fell into this condition, so by good fortune he freed him­selfe thereout, making use of his wonted affability, whereby he made the Archbishop treat him like a King, not a prisoner, allow­ing him not onely the liberty of the Castle, but the freedome to hunt, setting but a small guard upon him, who either could not, or would not keepe him. For Edward having sent to Sir William Stanley, and Sir Thomas Borrowes his trusty friends; that they should come with a band of good men to rescue him, they did so, and meeting him whilst he was hunting, they rescued him, not being at all withstood by his guardians: either for that they were too weake, or (as it is more likely) for that they were corrupted. I know not whether the Archbishop were hereof guilty or no (being allured by promises) but if he were, hee very much failed his bro­thers trust; and if hee were not, his folly was too great. He first retired to Yorke; but not able there to raise Troopes sufficient to bring him in safety to London (the way being long and dangerous) hee stayed there onely two daies, and from thence went towards Lancaster, where hee was met by the Lord Hastings his Chamber­laine, by whose meanes hee got so many men together as brought him safely to London. This accident wounded the Duke of Clarence, and the Earle of Warwicke to the quicke, falling thereby from those hopes which having the enemy in their hands they did not vainly frame unto themselves; and being now (were it either out of neg­ligence or treachery) soundly derided, since in stead of having ended the warre, they were now to begin it afresh, with the haz­zard of their lives, goods, and honours. The greatest part of those that followed them were already returned to their owne homes. The rest thought there had been no more need of Armes; that they should againe in peace and liberty see London, and Henry re­established. That all slaughter and shedding of blood had been ended in the last battell. That Countries, Cities, and Churches robbed of their ornaments should returne to their former lustre: All which were onely humane imaginations, contraried by divine providence. Fortune, and the Starres were alwaies contrary to the miserable unfortunate Henry. His contagious malady was an Abysse which together with him swallowed up as many as sided with him. Many notwithstanding, to shunne relapsing into the former calamities, mediated for peace. And because they thought to treat of it by third parties would be a way about the bush, they agreed upon a parley between the parties themselves at London, Edward by his word securing Warwicke and his associates, though in businesses of the like nature, hee was observed sometimes to be faulty. Clarence and Warwicke being come to London, parlied with the King at Westminster, where in stead of giving satisfaction, they [Page 23] fell mutually to upbraid each other with benefits repayed by in­gratitude, each pretending to be the obliging benefactor, the other the ungratefull repayer, so as they departed more invenom'd than before.

The two confederates raised an Army in Lincolnshire under the 1470 conduct of Sir Robert Welles, sonne to the Lord Welles, a Gentleman of a knowne valour. The King on the other side for all the ill suc­cesse of the parley, thought that businesse would not so suddenly have broke forth. But finding the contrary, he assembled a power­full army: He commanded the Lord Welles, father to Sir Robert, to come unto him, not admitting any excuse either of age or sick­nesse. Welles being by his friends advertised of the great danger he ranne (the King being grievously offended with him by reason of his sonne) got, together with his cousin Sir Thomas Dimocke, who came to accompany him to London, into Sanctuary at Westminster. Edward thought he should much weaken the enemies forces, if he could bereave them of young Welles their Commander, the which he might doe by his fathers meanes; whom he fetched out of San­ctuary upon promise of pardon. And causing him write unto his sonne, hee marched toward Stafford where Robert was expected. But hee not regarding his fathers Letters, but rather preparing to meet the King as an enemy, did so incense the King, as not regard­ing his plighted faith, his promise of pardon, nor that the father was not bound to answer for the sonnes faults (who had neither put him upon this imployment, nor perswaded him thereunto) he unjustly caused the old Lord to be beheaded, as likewise his cousin, though incomparably lesse faulty than the other. Wels though sorely provoked by his fathers death would willingly have for­borne comming to blowes, for that the Kings forces were by much the greater: but not believing he could deferre fighting till such time as Warwicke should come up to him, fearing le [...]t many of his Army might be wrought upon by the Kings presence, his promise of pardon, and reward, hee gave battell, which after a long and valiant bickering was by him unfortunately lost; himselfe, Sir Tho­mas Deland, and many others were taken prisoners, and all of them immediately executed. Those that were slaine in this battell were 10000; And more would have been slaine, had they not been disheartned by their Captaines being taken, which made them flie. This was a deadly blow to Warwicke. The few forces hee yet had were hereby much weakned. It was difficult and tedious to raise more, since the enemy was at his backe. His last refuge was to trie the Lord Stanley, who was his brother in law, but receiving an answer contrary to his desires, he gave way to fortune, and toge­ther with the Duke of Clarence, their wives and families, he tooke shipping in Devonshire, making for Calleis, intending to land the women there, and passe further into France himselfe; he hoped there to finde helpe, trusting in the ancient friendship of that King, since the originall of his misfortunes sprung from the affront done to him in the marriage of his sister in law, the Lady Bona. He had [Page 24] left Monsieur de Vauclere, a Gascon, Knight of the Garter, his Lieu­tenant in Calleis, a wary man, as for the most part are all those of that Countrey. This man being advertised of the late proceed­ings, was not surprised, but had formerly bethought how to go­verne himselfe in so dangerous a businesse. The Duke of Burgundy had likewise been advertised by the King, who knew he hated War­wicke next after Charles: The Earle drawing neere Calleis, and ex­pecting nothing lesse than to be denied entry, was driven backe with shot of Cannon, and to shunne sinking, was forc'd to lie a­loofe off at Sea. At which instant the Dutchesse of Clarence his daughter, was brought to bed of a sonne; who was the same Earle of Warwicke who was afterwards put to death in the Towre of London by Henry the VII. Great was the Earles confusion, not knowing whither to betake himselfe. His daughters malady af­flicted him more than ought else. He with much adoe obtained that the child might be baptized within the Towne, and got from thence two flagons of Wine to comfort the mother. Vauclere sent unto him, willing him to retire, else he should be enforced to treat him rudely. But by what ensued, I believe Philip Comines report to be true, that by secret message he had desired him not to won­der at what had hapned; that all was done for his service; that if hee should have suffered him to come in, hee had been utterly lost, since England, Burgundy, the Towne, and a great part of the garri­son were his enemies. That his best course was to retire into France, not taking any further thought concerning that Fort; assuring him that in due time he would give a good account thereof. But by naming England to be his enemy, hee onely meant Edward, not the generality; for never was any man better beloved by the peo­ple, than was he; which was the onely cause of Edwards aversion and feares; for the peoples love doth usually raise jealousies in the Prince. Edward seeing him gone thought himselfe rid of a troublesome burden, which turned little to his advantage, for the continuance of his jealousies would have made him more caute­lous than hee was. The reasons why Burgundy hated him, were, because Warwicke had ruined the house of Lancaster, to which hee was most affectionate, his mothers mother being a branch thereof. That hee was a friend to the King of France, a Prince by him infi­nitely hated; and the opposing of his marriage, for no other end, but that he thought hee should thereby become too powerfull for France. The inhabitants of Calleis opposed him, not for that they hated his person, but because the warre would have broken their commerce with London; for the Company of Wollen-drapers kept a Store-house in Calleis, from whence the Low-countries, and all Germany were furnished, to the great benefit of particular men, and the King did thereby receive a yeerely toll of 50000 Crowns, Comines saith but 15000, and that it came all into the Earls coffers. As for the Garrison, it cannot be denied, but that the grea­test part of them had dependence upon him: But Monsieur de Du­ras, a Gascon, and the Kings Marshall being then there with a great [Page 25] many souldiers under his command, hee would have runne dan­ger of being taken prisoner, if he should have entered the Town. Vauclere by his dissembling compassed his ends: for the newes of this his unexpected behaviour comming to the Court of England; the King tooke the command of that Towne from Warwicke, and bestowed it on Vauclere. And the Duke of Burgondy to confirme him in this his charge, sent thankes unto him by Philip de Comines, and gave him a pension of 1000 Crownes a yeere. Notwithstand­ing all this Vauclere served and deceived them all, as the effects shewed. Hee demeaned himselfe in this manner, not out of any loyalty to the King, or love hee bore unto the Earle, but that hee might have two strings to his Bow, and doubly secure his owne interest. For had hee been loyall to the King, hee could not have given the Earle any hopes, nor have effected them, when hee might doe it without danger; and if hee had loved the Earle, hee would not have denied him entrance into the Towne, it be­ing the onely place hee could receive succour from. But hee not knowing which of them would prevaile, chose not to endanger himselfe, whilst being in good condition, hee might betake him­selfe to that side which should be most availeable for him. Mens ends are commonly their owne interests, for the which they thinke it lawfull to abandon vertue, which alwaies goes accom­panied by some crosse, which they abhorre. The Earle of War­wicke finding that now hee had no hopes in Calleis, but what were future, sayled towards Diepe, as hee was advised by Vau­clere, and according to his first intention. By the way hee tooke as many ships as hee met withall belonging to Charles his subjects, gaining thereby great riches, which did furnish him at his pre­sent need, and forced Charles to send a great Fleet into those Seas, to revenge himselfe, either by taking him prisoner, or in­hibiting his returne for England. Being come to Diepe, and by command from Lewis, received with all manner of respect, hee was by the said Lewas met at Amboise, where causing him to be provided with all things necessary, hee promised him his best as­sistance, and caused a great many ships be rigg'd out for him, well provided with Souldiers and Mariners. And this hee did the sooner for that Charles had threatned him if hee should assist War­wicke. Queen Margaret came to meet him as soone as she heard he was arrived, and with her the Earles of Pembrooke and of Oxford, the last of which had lately escaped out of prison, and was fled from England. Lewis, to have the surer tie upon him, caused Prince Ed­ward, the Queens sonne, to marry with Anne the Earle of Warwicks second daughter. Warwicke taking thereby to sonne in law the sonne of him whom he had formerly deposed, that he might now depose him that he had placed in his place. As soone as the mar­riage was concluded, Warwicke and the Duke of Clarence tooke an oath never to put a period to the warre, till such time as Henry, or in default of him his sonne Edward should recover the King­dome. And Queen Margaret promised to make them two Gover­nours [Page 26] of the Kingdome, till such time as her sonne should be of yeeres. King Edward was daily advertised by Duke Charles what treaties were in hand to his prejudice, the Duke complaining that Edward should more minde his pleasures than his affaires. But it was in vaine to object the feare of danger to a courageous Prince, a lover of pastimes; vaine it was to perswade him to quit his sports, and plunge himselfe in troubles, since it was so un­likely that should befall him which did. He advised him to op­pose the Earle at Sea, for that if hee should set foot on Land, and have his partakers joyne with him, the danger and difficulty would be the greater. Hee on the other side desired hee might land, believing that at his pleasure hee might take him prisoner, or kill him before hee could be succoured. He made diligent in­quiry after such as hee might suspect to be Warwickes friends; so as those that were knowne to wish him well were in an ill condi­tion. Many of them tooke Sanctuary. Marquesse Montaigne bro­ther to Warwicke, obtained his pardon, and came over to the Kings side. But the wisest resolution hee could take was to send over a Gentlewoman into France, who under pretence of visi­ting the Dutchesse of Clarence, might worke upon her husband. This woman being arrived at Calleis, made Vauclere believe that businesses were likely to be accommodated, and that the King had sent her over to this purpose. When shee was come to Am­boise, she so well performed the trust imposed in her, that ha­ving shewed the Duke what danger hee was in by taking part a­gainst his brother, she made it appeare, that the house of Lancaster could never raigne voyd of jealousies whilst any one of the house of Yorke were left alive; That by endeavouring to ruine his brother he wrought his owne overthrow, by quitting the right unto the Crown, to the which he was so nigh himselfe. For Edward, though he were young, had yet no sonne, and but one daughter, who might very well miscarry, and such were his disorders as there was little likelihood he should have any more. That being therefore to be presumed heire, he much injured himselfe, by giving the Crown away from himselfe to his enemies, who could never thinke them­selves safe as long as he lived. These reasons and others which the discreet woman knew how to make use of prevailed so farre with Clarence, as that he gave her his word to joyne with his brother as soone as hee should be come into England. Which sheweth of what little efficacy oathes and alliance are, when a powerfull interest comes in place. Clarence for some sleight domestique distasts, failed his brother, even to the endangering the losse of his Kingdome: You shall see him faile his father in Law even to the making him lose his life. Whence wee are taught, that in great affaires wee ought onely to trust such to whom profit and danger are univocall together with us.

Many of the King of France his ships were making ready in Harfleur for the Earle of Warwickes service, and some of his owne likewise, where he received sundry dispatches from many Lords of [Page 27] England. They desired him not to delay his returne though hee were to come all alone; for being looked for by so many that were desirous to spend their lives in his service, hee needed no foraine forces, and that his delay might endanger his friends, and over­throw the enterprize. He acquainted the Queene and his compa­nions herewithall, whose opinions were that hee should forth with be gone with such ships as hee should finde in readinesse; and that as soon as the Queenes ships should be in due equipage, (her fa­ther the King of Sicily had sent her as many as hee could to this effect) she and her sonne would imbarque themselves upon the first newes of any hopes of good successe in England; so as having taken leave of the King, and thanked him for so many and so great favours, hee went into the Fleet, whither by command from the King the Admirall of France and divers other ships were come, to guard him from Charles his Fleet, which lay expecting him in the mouth of the River Seine; and which was much greater than the Kings, Warwicks, and the Admirals, all joyned together. Doubt­lesse had not fortune plaied one of her wonted trickes, the English had not returned to England, for the Burgonians were many, strong, and resolute, to doe all that was possible to take the Earle. But the night before the Earles departure, the Dukes ships were by a great tempest scattered, many of them were sunke; the rest dri­ven into sundry places, not any two of them being found toge­ther. So as the Earle putting to Sea the next day with a faire wind (as if the tempest had risen, and were allayed, to doe him service,) came to Anchor in Dartsmouth haven in Devonshire, the same place where six moneths before he tooke shipping for Calleis. Edward was at this time busied in sports and revellings, not think­ing on foraine affaires, relying upon Charles his mighty Fleet, which lay in wait to fight with him, and hinder his passage into England. When he heard he was landed, he past from his first con­fidence to a second and worser: thinking hee had him now in a noose. Hee advertised Charles, and desired him to take order hee should not returne againe to France, and then hee needed trouble himselfe no further, for that he was sufficient of himselfe to hinder all his designes within his Kingdome, and to chastise him. But Charls who was a wise and vigilant Prince, was not of this opinion: he would have had him to have hindred his landing, without the adventuring of his Person and Kingdome upon the uncertainty of battell, and the inconstancy of his people and fortune. The first thing Warwicke did was to make Proclamations be made every where in Henries name, that all men from sixteene to threescore yeere old, upon grievous punishment should come and present themselves armed before him, to serve Henry the lawfull King, against Edward Duke of Yorke, the unlawfull usurper of the King­dome. He was forthwith obeyed, great numbers of people flockt unto him, even those who the yeere before were wholly devoted to Edwards service. A change, though strange, yet not to be won­dred at. Old things cause satiety, new businesses provoke fresh [Page 28] appetite. Edward being in this straight, resolved to doe the same which the Earle had done. Hee summoned all the Peeres of the Land, was obeyed but by a few, and by those more out of feare than out of any good will. Hee went to Nottingham accompanied by his brother the Duke of Gloucester; the Lord Scales the Queenes brother, and the Lord Hastings his Chamberlaine, presuming there to raise an Army answerable to his need. The Rebels this meane while increased, and the Ministers in their Pulpits did approve of Henries right. The bastard Faulconbridge and the Earle of Pem­brooke, the one in the West, the other in Wales did proclaime him King. That which most troubled Edward was, that Marquesse Montaigne having gathered together 6000. fighting men, and brought them almost unto Nottingham, hee returned backe, either for that he thought Edwards affaires were now desperate, and that the ayreevery where resounding, Long live Henry, Long live War­wicke, he thought it foolishnesse not to share of his brothers good fortune; or else for that hee had now a just occasion to revenge himselfe of Edwards ingratitude (as hee tearmed it) who for his service done unto him, and his blood shed for him in so many battels and dangers, had onely requited him with the bare Title of Marquesse. He declared himselfe against him, and brought those 6000 along with him, proclaiming Henry King, as the others had done. I know not whether he had reason to accuse Edward of in­gratitude or no. Voluptuous people who like him are given to their pleasures, are naturally prodigall in their owne dissolutenesse, and backward enough in paying what they owe. I am very certain his other brothers could not complaine thereof, though Warwicke injuriously did. The Archbishop of Yorke wore the second Mitre of England; and the Earle of Warwicke (if wee may believe Co­mines) to boote with his owne Revenues, which were very great, had 80000 Crowns a yeer comming in, in Lordships, Confiscations, and Places meerely conferred upon him by the Kings grace, which was much more in those daies than 300000 would be now. But it is hatefull and dangerous to Princes when pretensions grow to that height as there is no meanes of recompence, and that the onely pretence of the pretenders, seeming to upbraid, doth tacitely demand, and seeme to plead the participation of their Princes dignity and estate. Edward knew not what to say to these alterations which hourely increased, and finding no place safe for him since hee wanted forces, hee went not without great danger to Linne, where he found two Holland ships, and one English; hee imbarkt himselfe, and was waited upon by the three said ships, and seven hundred men, without any manner of baggage, or one penny of money. A great and unexpe­cted misfortune, but that which immediately after presented it selfe was farre worse, had hee not luckily eschewed it. For had hee been taken; hee had none to ransome him, so would have lost both liberty and Kingdome. Eight of the Easterlings ships (the Easterlings were then great enemies to the English, [Page 29] and did them all the mischiefe they could) discovering these three Ships, and believing them to be English, gave them chase, but could not come up unto them till they had cast Anchor before Alchemar in Holland, the ebbe being so low as they could not winne the Haven: The Easterlings cast Anchor likewise, but a good way from them, the burden of their Ships not permitting them to doe otherwise, so as they were inforced to expect the returne of the tide to board them. But Monsieur de Gretures Go­vernour under the Duke of Burgundy in Holland, being luckily at that time in Alchemar, and understanding of Edwards be­ing there, by some whom hee had sent of purpose unto him in flat bottom'd Boats, forbade the Easterlings to use any manner of hostility and went himselfe to bring him and all his men into the City. Edward was at this time so bare of money, as not having wherewithall to pay for his wastage, hee gave the Captaine a rich vestment lined with Sables, promising not to forget the cur­tesy, and to satisfie him better afterwards. A strange change of Fortune happened in a few houres to such a Prince meerly out of negligence and carelesnesse. Hee lost a Kingdome without one blow striking, and was forced to have recourse unto a Prince, whose onely presence did upbraid unto him his carelesnesse, lust, and bad government. Charles hearing of this, was very much displeased, finding himselfe charged with so needfull a King, and so great a retinue, whom hee could not bee wanting unto in assistance, not out of any humanity, or alliance, but for that Warwicke enjoying the Kingdome, it behooved him to main­taine the contrary party, and drive him out, or else to suffer the incommodities of a long War. Queene Elizabeth, the originall of these alterations, seeing her selfe abandoned, without succour, and the enemy upon her back, tooke Sanctuary at Westminster, where with small attendance she was brought to bed of a Sonne, named Edward; hee, who for some few weekes after his Fathers death, was the V. King of that name; and who symbolized in birth, name and death with his cousin the Sonne of the Dutchesse of Clarence borne a Shipboard before Calleis. The pompe of Bap­tisme had nothing in it of royall save the Mothers teares, accom­panyed by many mens commiseration, which is then greatest, when most concealed. Many of her best friends betooke them­selves likewise to sundry other Sanctuaries, who proved after­wards serviceable to her, at Edwards returne. The Kentish-men prone to insurrections, seeing there was now no King; of two, the one being fled, the other a prisoner, came to London, and sack't the Suburbs, and it may be would have sack't the City it selfe, had not the Earle of Warwicke diverted them, whose comming thi­ther was noysed, and who punished the Complices of the insur­rection. This piece of Justice added to his reputation, and the peoples love. Upon the 6 of Octob. he entered the Tower accom­panied by many Lords: in particular his brother the Archbishop of Yorke, the Prior of St. Iohns, the Duke of Clarence and the [Page 30] Earle of Shrewsbury; some of them drawne by affection, some by feare [...] he set King Henry at liberty after nine yeares captivity; he brought him to the Bishop of Londons house, where hee tarried till the thirteenth day, and then brought him in person and in roy­all attire to Pauls, carrying his traine himselfe, and the Earle of Oxford the sword, accompanied with the peoples acclamations, who cried out, God save the King▪ forgetting that a little before they had prayed for Edward against him. A Parliament was summon­ed, wherein Edward was declared a Taytour to his Countrey and an usurper of the Crown, his goods confiscate, all Statutes made in his name and by his authority annull'd, the Crownes of England and France confirmed upon Henry, and the heires male of his bo­dy, and for want of such upon the Duke of Clarence and his po­sterity, who hereafter was to be acknowledged the next heire to his Father Richard Duke of Yorke: and Edward, for his faults committed, deprived of his birth-right, and the prerogatives thereof. The Earles of Pembrooke and Oxford were restored in bloud and to their dignities and goods: The Earle of Warwick and the Duke of Clarence declared Governours of the Kingdome; Marquesse Mountague was received into grace, and his fault par­doned, since revolting against Edward hee was the chiefe cause of his quitting the Kingdome: those who sided with him were deprived of their Honours, Titles, and Faculties; and such pu­nished as in this quarrell had taken up Armes against Henry. Whereupon Iohn Tiptoft Earle of Worcester Lord Deputy of Ire­land for Edward was found in a hollow Tree, brought to London and beheaded in the Tower. The Parliament being ended, the Earle of Pembrooke went into Wales, to take Order for such Lands as hee possest before his confiscation; and finding there Henry the Sonne of Edmond Earle of Richmond, with the Widow of Wil­liam Earle of Pembrooke his brother that was beheaded at Banbury, (who though held as a prisoner by this Lady, was alwayes nobly entreated) hee tooke him from her when hee was not yet full ten yeares old and brought him to London, where hee presented him to King Henry: who after hee had ey'd him a while said to the standers by; that this child should succeed him, and put a period to all the quarrells: which afterwards happening, con­firmed the opinion that was held of his sanctity, since by the spirit of prophecy, hee foresaw the succession of Henry the seventh. Queene Margaret, who was then in France being advertised by Letters from Henry, of the regainment of the Kingdome, did together with her Sonne forthwith put to Sea, but the windes being contrary drove her on Land, and kept her there a long time, and had they forever kept her there they had beene the more favourable, for then shee had not met with the mischiefe shee did in the losse of her Sonne. When Warwicks returne to Eng­land and King Henries re-establishment was knowne at Callis every one tooke unto him the Earles Impressa: Vauclere was the first that did so: His Impressa was a ragged staffe made of Gold, Silver, Silk, [Page 31] or Cloath according to his condition that wore it. As this un­expected inclination made the Duke of Burgondy more sollicitous, so did it inwardly displease the Duke of Clarence, who had alrea­dy alter'd his opinion. Neither did nature and common sense faile to suggest unto him what injury hee was to suffer by the rule of the house of Lancaster, notwithstanding the seeming favour­able proceedings of Parliament in his behalfe, hee cloaked there­fore his sorrow and seemed to be glad at what did inwardly af­flict him; hee endeavoured to fit himselfe to the present times till fortune might afford some other occasion.

When Warwicke had thus taken order for things at home, hee applied himselfe to foraine affaires: his first thoughts were to divert Duke Charles from assisting Edward, beleeving that whilest hee was busyed with the Armes of France in Picardy and those of England in the confines about Callis, danger would enforce him to mind his owne affaires and not trouble himselfe with what con­cerned other men; hee sent 400 men to Callis, to make inrodes into the parts about Boloigne, which were with all dutifull re­spect received by Vauclere: which freed him of all suspition of being any way inclined to the contrary party. Before Edward lan­ded in Holland, Charles was informed that hee was dead, neither was hee troubled at the newes, moved by his antient inclination to the house of Lancaster; and though Warwickes power did much molest him (not hoping ever to gaine him) hee hoped notwith­standing strongly to oppose him by meanes of the two Dukes of Sommerset, and Exceter, who had beene by him maintained in their miseries: but when hee heard hee was arrived in Holland, he was altogether amazed, for should hee assist him, he should draw upon him Henries enmity; neither could hee deny him aide since his Wife was his Sister: Charles knew not that Callis was at War­wickes command; building much thereon hee sent Comines to see what hee could promise to himselfe therein; for Vauclere ha­ving denyed entrance to Warwicke, and accepted of a Pension from him, hee had reason to believe him to depend upon him, the Duke, and not to be reconcileable with Warwicke; but as soone as Comines was come to Callis, hee found hee had lost his labour; hee was not received as formerly; all hee met wore the Earles colours; the gate of the house wherein hee lay, and his owne Chamber doore were marked with the White-crosse; Songs were every where sung of the firme friendship and intelligence betweene Lewis and Warwicke. Being by Vauclere invited to Din­ner, hee met there a great many Gentlemen, who talked neglect­fully of Edward, and those most who had formerly seemed most to affect him; none but Vauclere himselfe spake modestly of him. Comines, faining the first report of Edwards death to be true said to them that 'twas now to no purpose to talke any more of him since hee was dead; and that if hee were yet alive the Duke of Burgondy had contracted no other friendship with him, then with whatsoever other King. That the Articles of [Page 32] contract mentioned onely England, and the King thereof: that the friendship between England and Burgondy should still continue the same, the names of Edward and Henry onely altered. Charles was not displeased with this agreement, though it was not as he could have desired: for under-hand hee could do what he listed whilst hee was free from suspition of being molested by England, which was that he most feared. The Wollen-Drapers of London wrought well for him in this businesse; for Warwicke having taken 4000 men into pay to send against him, the Merchants for feare the War might overthrow their Trafficke, did so behave themselves as they made him alter his resolution: which had it not happen'd, much mischiefe might have ensued to him; for this fell out just at the same time when Lewis had taken from him Amiens, and St. Quintines; so as his affaires were likely to have succeeded ill, he not being able to defend himselfe in two severall parts, against two so potent enemies. Charles had not yet seene Edward; their first encounter was in the Towne St. Paul, the perswasions the King used to him were; that he himselfe shared with him in his losse, since that he had not now to do with Henry of Lancaster, but with the Earle of Warwicke, whose Friendship was never to be hoped for as long as Lewis his amity did prevaile; that by assist­ing him hee should not onely assist a Brother in Law and one that would alwayes be his friend, but hee should do a worke becom­ming a just and a great Prince, without exposing himselfe to a long and impossible businesse; since hee had such intelligence, such friends, and servants within the Kingdome, as hee needed onely to shew himselfe with some Convoy of Ships, armed with a few men, rather for reputation sake then any neede. These per­swasions were but coldly entertained by Charles; for the Dukes of Sommerset and Exceter shewed unto him what hee owed to his Birth, hee himselfe comming of the house of Lancaster, and pro­mised him what hee could desire against Warwicke, to whom they were both irreconcileable enemies. Edward was not well pleased to be nourished with hopes, whilest Charles made him, believe that his dissembling was necessary for them both; for him, because hee was not to fight with two Kingdomes at one and the same time: and for Edward, because opportunity might render his succour more usefull. But Edward not satisfied with these put-offs, con­sidering that his designes were the lesse likely to succeede well, by how much the more firmely Henry grew settled in his Kingdome, hee caused foure Ships to be made ready for him at Vere in Hol­land (which being a free Haven not denyed to any one, the Ships might seeme to be set forth by Edward himselfe) and hired 14 more for him of the Easterlings, bargaining that they should passe him over into England, and serve him fifteene dayes after he should be landed. Hee caused moreover 50000 Florines to be secretly delivered unto him, and that this aide might not seeme to be given by him he made it be proclaimed, that whosoever should assist Ed­ward should incurre great punishment: hereby hee freed himselfe [Page 33] from giving suspition to England, and come what might come, re­main'd friends to both sides.

Edward had 2000 men with him besides Mariners, with which having landed at Ravenspur in Yorkeshire, he sent forth some light horse to discover how the Inhabitants were inclined: and find­ing them wholly turned over to Henries side, not so much as wil­ling to heare him named, hee changed his resolution: hee gave out that he did not pretend to the Kingdome, (Fearing lest the troubles that might thereby arise, might alienate the peoples hearts) but to his patrimoniall estate of Yorke under the obedi­ence of Henry. It cannot be imagined what good effect this his crafty wisedome produced; for this his pretence being thought not onely moderate but just, no man opposed him therein. Equi­ty, orany thing which resembles it, is of so great efficacy amongst men, as that hee, who, but a little before, was banished, decla­red a Traitor, and had his Lands confiscated, yet being so great a Prince by birth as hee was, and having beene King, it moved all men to compassionate him, and thinke him worthy of that fa­vour which the rigour of Law had debarred him of; forgetting how much hee had made Henry suffer. With this pretence hee went to Yorke, proclaiming Henry to be King in all parts, and sti­ling himselfe onely Duke of York. The Earle of Warwicke hear­ing of his arrivall, and of this his dissimulation wrote to his bro­ther the Marquesse Montague (who stay'd all that Winter with a great garrison of Souldiers at Pomfret) to fight with him before hee should gather new forces, or at least that hee should enter­taine him till such time as hee himselfe should come thither, and that by no meanes hee should suffer him to come into Yorke; for by advancing his affaires there hee would endanger theirs. Hee, in conformity to this, commanded all the Cities and Townes in those parts not to receive him, but to shut their gates upon him, and do him all the mischiefe, which according to the Lawes of the Land ought to be done to a publike enemy. But whilest the Earle was raising Souldiers and his Brother did not move, Edward put forward, and was met by two Aldermen neere to Yorke, who advised him to steere his course some other way, for that the City could not but oppose him, and do him all possible mischiefe. Hee having courteously heard them, answered: that hee came not to fight against the King, nor any wayes to molest him, ac­knowledging him to be his Soveraigne Lord; but that hee might be permitted to enter into the Dutchy of Yorke, his ancient pa­trimony, hoping that as there was none that could justly oppose him therein, so they least of any, being the naturall subjects of his house, from whence they had at all times received all manner of grace and favour. The Aldermen returning with this answer and hee after softly following them, in an instant the Citizens minds were changed: those who were gotten upon the Walles to defend them against him as against an enemy, came downe to be [Page 34] his guides and to keepe him from being by any one injur'd; being come before the City, and met by many of the chiefest Citizens he made such use of his affability, calling the Aldermen your wor­ships, as by the fairenesse of his language and his large promises he got them to yeild to what ever he would. 'Twas agreed that hee should be received into the City, if hee would sweare to two things; that hee would treat them according to his proffered con­ditions; and be obedient and faithfull to all Henries commands. Upon these tearmes all parties retired themselves; the Citizens to Yorke, and Edward with his people to the fields; expecting the nextday. These good people thought hereby to do good service to God, the King, and Kingdome: but the unwary do alwayes harme when they thinke to help. To receive banisht men, to re­store goods, and to dispose of estates belongs not unto Subjects. The nextday Masse was said at the gate whereat hee was to enter. He swore to the two Articles with such intention as the effects of his not observing them did afterwards declare. Wherein is to be observed Gods Long-suffering, and Justice: the one by his not immediately punishing him; the other extending it selfe not long after to his Family, which being deprived of the Kingdome, and that confer'd upon his enemy, was utterly destroyed, to manifest unto us that the delay of punishment is not the abolishment there­of. These sacred ceremonies being ended, with divine attestation, he entred the City, and as soone as he had from thence received monies (notwithstanding all his Articles) he made himselfe master of it, by placing therein a good garrison, and they too late percei­ved his breach of Faith: but it behooved them patiently to en­dure the yoake, which with their own hands they had put about their necks. He stayd there but a while; for having taken certaine forces into pay, hee resolved to go to London: A rash resolution; had hee had any thing to lose: but being he possest nothing and was either to regaine his Kingdome, or lose his life (which was not to be valued since hee had nothing to maintaine it with) 'twas a noble resolution and altogether worthy of the greatnesse of his spirit. His neerest way lay by Pomfret, where Marquesse Montague lay: he shun'd him, keeping on the other hand foure miles above him; and the Marquesse came not forth, otherwise Edward and his few men had bin but in bad condition. He suffer'd him to passe as if he had had no knowledge thereof. This was his second error, the first being, that he suffer'd him to get into Yorke. Some notwithstanding were of opinion that he met him not, be­cause he did not much trust his people, who hating Henry as the onely Picture of a King unfit for government, and the cause of so many scandalls, inclined to Edward, a King fit to defend him­selfe and them. Hee thought not to meet with so good fortune, but meeting with it and making use of it, he put himselfe againe into the roade-way, and marcht on to Nottingham, where many Gentlemen with great troopes of men came to meet him: here he [Page 35] was proclaimed King, contrary to the tenure of his first pretences and his Oath taken at Yorke. People flocked to him every houre: he feared not to passe on to Leicester, that hee might draw nigh to the enemy, who was then at Warwicke under the command of the Earle thereof accompanied by the Earle of Oxford, hee resolved either to give him battell, or else to finde out some meanes to joyne with his Brother the Duke of Clarence. Warwicke was not well satisfied with the Marquesse, who by not opposing him had advantaged the Enemy; he levyed Souldiers apace that he might come to the battell, and advertised the Duke of Clarence to the end that hee might hasten unto him; but growing fearfull of his temporizing he resolved to fight himselfe alone with those troops he had, and with this designe he went to Coventry: Edward, who soone after his departure from Warwicke was come thither, fol­lowed him the same way: the Earle was much perplexed; hee was certaine of nothing but battell, his safety depended upon the will of Fortune: His sonne in Law and his brother were corrup­ted: the first for certaine, the second not unlikely, but rather to be doubted then built upon. So as having intrencht himselfe he expected the Dukes comming, who he understood was not far off. Edward who was not farre off raysed his campe as if he meant to give his Brother Clarence battell apart, and presented himselfe in battell aray before him. But as soone as they were within sight one of the other, the Duke of Gloucester ran into Clarence his Camp, not demanding safe-conduct as upon like occasions is usu­all; they seemed to treat of what they had long before concluded betweene themselves: peace was published, and Edward pro­claimed King, and the two Brothers embraced each other, as if there never had beene any thing of difference betweene them. Ne­ver was man more directly murdered then was Warwicke. All mis­chiefe is expected from a declared Enemy: but such as proceed from a pretended Friend is as bitter as unexpected. 'Tis not to be denyed that enmity betweene Brethren is contrary to nature; but their reconcilement ought not to be made by the violation of Oathes, the ruine of a Friend, Confederate and Father in Law: we see the great enormities in their proceedings, but we shall see their punishments. The Duke of Clarence sent to excuse himselfe to the Earle of Warwicke, offering him any advantageous condi­tions with the King his Brother; but he having with much distem­per heard the message accounting his offers Snares answered: that hee in all his actions had ever done like unto himselfe, not like him, a false and perjur'd Prince, and that hee would not quit the Warre till either dead or revenged: words which gave assu­rance of nothing but Armes. But Edward thinking the first thing hee had to do was to have Henry in his power turned towards Lon­don, of the which if hee could once make himselfe master hee needed no more, since the City was sufficient to furnish him with whatsoever hee needed. The Earle had notice hereof, and did [Page 36] accordingly advertise the Duke of Somerset, his Brother the Archbishop, and the Councell, intreating them to defend the Ci­ty onely for three dayes, whithin which time hee would come and free them from all danger, but the Citizens (since their lives and goods were in question, if they should oppose themselves and after be inforced to yeeld) consented not thereunto: and though Henries goodnesse did stirre them up to assist him, yet his weakenesse advised the contrary; for unfit for whatsoever action hee lived in the Bishops house dumbe and stupid; not knowing how either to give or take counsell. Comines all edges three rea­sons why Edward was preferr'd before him, which if not true may yet seeme true: first the many partakers he had in the Liberties of the City, and that his Queene was newly delivered of a Sonne: the second; the great debt he ought there, which caused the Mer­chants to favour him, lest they might lose their principall: the third, the love of many of the chiefest and richest Citizens wives, who as having had familiarity with him drew their Husbands and Friends to favour him. Whether any of all these were true or no, or that Henries incapacity was the onely cause thereof, the resolution taken was in Edwards behalfe; so as in stead of denying him entrance, they ran to meete him: whereupon the chiefe of the adverse party hasted to save themselves. Forsaken Henry was hee alone, who voyde of helpe, dexterity, or resoluti­on, knew not how to escape; so as Edward being entred, and received with popular applause, six Moneths after the losse of his Kingdome; hee put him againe into the same prison from whence few Moneths before hee had beene taken out by the Earle of Warwicke, and wherein might hee have beene suffered to live hee would have beene more happy, according to his hu­mour, then at liberty governing amongst so many alterations which did transcend the faculty of his braine. Edward in a pub­like oration commended the people and thanked the Aldermen for having kept them loyall; on the contrary, he caused all such Merchants as well Citizens as Foreiners as had assisted Henry with monies to be brought before him, and did with such bitter words and in so terrible a manner aggravate their fault as all men thought their turnes were served: but he who had not his like in captivating mens minds, after having a long time held them in deadly suspence, put life into them expressing his last words with as much clemency as hee had done his former with terrour. This his clemency not procured by the importunacy of Officers, or Supplications, but proceeding from his owne meere motion, did so win the hearts even of them that were not interested therein, as they for the future did that out of meere love, which former­ly they would not have done but for feare. Warwick this meane while made hast towards London, knowing the City to be unfit for sieges, and much lesse for redoubled assaults: he thought not­withstanding it would defend it selfe the time desired, and that [Page 37] finding the enemy busied about winning the Towne hee might force him to fight upon disadvantage. But when he heard that Edward was received in and Henry againe made prisoner, hee was sorely afflicted, hee saw hee had cast up his accounts wrong, and that fortune had brought him to a precipice which hee could not shunne: but there was no remedy, and had there beene any, hee would rather have dyed than have endevoured it. The Souldiers hee had were good, but few in comparison of those of an enemy smiled on by fortune, courageous in himselfe, and obeyed by all men: Hee on the other side had none on whom to trust, and if hee should lose the battell hee had no succour, for doubtlesse all the Kingdom would incline to the Conquerour, being they were already that waies given. That which troubled him most of all was, he knew not what to thinke of the Marquesse his brother, who had so often shewed himselfe unwilling to meddle in this warre, and still continued of the same minde: Hee thought to have dismist him but it had been dangerous so to have done, for so he should not onely have lessen'd his Army, but perhaps have made him with his Troopes goe over to the enemy; he resolved, by saying nothing, to oblige him to runne the same fortune as he should runne, as he did. He stayd at St. Albanes a little, to refresh his people, and went from thence to Barnet, where hee incamped himselfe, confidently believing the enemy would come to finde him out: nor was he deceived; for Edward, not willing he should come to London, (a City which hee had experienced to be subject to revolt upon such like occasions) left the Towne guarded by his confidents, and marched forth with the same Army, wherewith hee had entred the Towne; whereunto was added a Troope of choice young men armed at all pieces, so as though hee could not but hope for victory, yet was he ill advised, since he now put that to the hazzard of fortune, which by temporizing he might surely obtaine: for, all the Countrey being on his side, and hee the supe riour in forces, 'twas in his power to have starved the enemy, and utterly undone him without the losse of one man. But these dull Fabian wars are seldome or never seen in England. Edward came to Barnet on Easter Eve, and incamped himselfe so neere the e­nemy, as not onely the neighing of horses, but mens voyces were heard from the one campe to the other, so as you will easily be lieve they slept not much that night. The unfortunate Henry was brought along, to the end that his captivity might astonish the enemy, and make him lesse courageous; or else, that if Ed­ward should lose the day hee might make the more advantageous conditions. As soone as day appeared (the day dedicated to our Saviours resurrection) the Earle of Warwicke drew forth his Army into three Squadrons: He assigned the first to the Marquesse, and the Earle of Oxford, flanked by some Troopes of horse; the se­cond he kept for himselfe, accompanied by the Duke of Exceter; and gave the last to the Duke of Somerset. Edward (observing the [Page 38] same order, gave his Van-guard to the Duke of Gloucester, (a man of great courage and counsell) the Rere-ward to the Lord Ha­stings, (a constant sider with the white Rose) and kept the maine battell for himselfe, and the Duke of Clarence, keeping the priso­ner Henry by him: hee framed a squadron of the surplus of his men to make use of upon all occasions. Neither side wanted ar­guments to encourage their men: the one Rebellion, the other Tyranny. The Archers began the battell, and the Arrowes being spent they came to handy-blowes: Edwards party prevailed in number, but not in order, vigilancy, nor valour. The battell was fought from Sunne rising till almost mid-day, fresh men supplying the places of such as were wounded or wearied. The Earles squadron having the worst hee reinforc'd it with a Troope drawne out of the Rere-ward, with the which he made the enemy lose so much ground, as many of them flying away brought false newes to London, that Edward was put to rout: who having stayed his owne men, fighting himselfe a vye with whatsoever Souldier, made the reserved Squadron come in on the flanke, which gave so impetuously on those wearied men, as that though the Earle did what possibly hee could to reinforce them, yet wanting fresh men, his voyce nor example stood him in no stead, his men, for lacke of breath falling under the enemies Sword. The Earle gi­ving in where the enemy was thickest; either to open them, or not to out live the losse, was miserably slaine. His brother (who by unwillingly undertaking this warre, had been the first cause of this their last mis-fortune) seeing him drive in amongst the enemy (all other passions giving place to brotherly love) followed after him, to make him way to returne, but hee shut it up to himselfe by losse of his life. This was one of the fiercest battels ever fought by enraged men. The Kingdome and life was in question on the one side, life and the Kingdome on the other. Henry governed in name, in effect the Earle; but that which most provoked him, was the preservation of his ancient renowne, and his desire of revenge upon the two brethren: Edward was by him accounted ungrate­full, and perjured; Clarence ungratefull, perjured, and treacherous. The odde Band was his undoing. Some impute his losse to a mis­take in his Van, for a mist arising which suffered them not well to discerne passages, they tooke the Starre rounded with rayes, which was the Earle of Oxfords cognizance, and which was tacked upon each of his Souldiers sleeves, to be the Sunne, which was Edwards cognizance: whereupon setting on Oxfords men, as on enemies, they forced them to runne away; nor could the Earle of Oxford, who fought with incredible valour, detaine them. How ever it was, Edward wonne the day, with the death of 10000. of his adversaries, and 1500. of his owne; amongst which, none of note save Sir Humphrey Bourchier, sonne to the Lord Barnes. The cause of this so great slaughter was attributed hereto, that where­as Edward, in his other battels was wont to bid kill the Lords and [Page 39] Captaines, but spare the rest, he did not so in this, being offended that they more esteemed Warwicke than him. The Duke of So­merset and Earle of Oxford fled together towards Scotland; but fearing they might runne danger by the length of the way, they went to Wales to finde out Iasper Earle of Pembrooke. The Duke of Exceter, who was left alive among the dead bodies, got up with much a doe, and came to Westminster, where hee tooke Sanctuary. This was the end of Warwickes worldly glory, whose title was to make and unmake Kings. His ruine tooke its rise from his father; who being cousin-german to Henry the fifth, (they being brothers and sisters children) forsooke his respect of consanguinity, for that of affinity; (Richard Duke of Yorke having married his sister Cecily mother to Edward) and so lost his life: his sonne treading in his fathers steps, and desirous to revenge his fathers death, deposed Henry to set up Edward; by whom being neglected, hee revolted from him, forced him to fly his Countrey, set Henry at liberty, and put the Crowne againe upon his head: but Edward being re­turned, and having changed his Lyons skinne to a Foxes, hee fell, betrayed by his sonne in law, abandoned by his brother, and at his greatest need forgotten by the common people, who had never more superstitiously worshipped any one, nor in their songs cele­brated. Whereby the ambitious may learne not to raise tumults, trusting upon the people, which like the Sea, are moved by all winds. I must crave leave to answer one particular, falsely allea­ged by Comines. He saies the Earle had alwaies wont to fight on horse-backe, that if fortune should frowne hee might the better escape: that his brother the Marquesse, who was a gallant man, forced him at this time to fight on foot, and made his horses be led away. But who shall consider the Earles actions, and his battels, this last unexcepted, will believe him to be calumniated; for, say he should endeavour to save himselfe, did they not all doe so? In this battell, Somerset and Oxford saved themselves by flight, where there was no speech of prisoners, nor ransome, but to die by the heads-man, if not in the field. The Marquesse had lesse reason to feare, as one not hated by Edward, but rather by him suborned, as knowing his appearing against him made for him; for had hee fought with him, either at Yorke, or else at Pomfret, hee never had regained his Kingdome. Had feare wrought any thing upon the Earle, hee would not have refused his sonne in lawes offers; hee would not have resolved (the smalnesse of his numbers not con­sidered) to have fought at Barnet; and knowing that Queen Mar­garet was hourely expected to land in England, hee would have stayed for her. That he should feare her (as the said Comines and Chesnes doe both aver) because the Duke of Somerset was with her, is false; for this Duke, who is by them pretended to be absent, was present at this battell, as hath been said: and the Queene could not but be his friend, for the services hee had done her, and her future hopes in him; so as if he did not wait her comming, 'twas [Page 40] not for any of these reasons, but of his too much confiding in him­selfe; which was his undoing. After this victory Edward retur­ned in triumph to London, hee gave God thankes in Pauls Church, he there hung up the Colours taken from the enemy; and for three daies together exposed the dead bodies of the two brothers to the sight of all men, to the end that being seen dead, no man might further trouble him, with taking upon them the person and name of Warwioke, whose death was the establishment of his Kingdome: So that, as hee could not sufficiently expresse his joy thereof, so could hee not enough lament the Marquesses death, whom hee lo­ved, and who so loved him: as for Henry, the type of all misfortune, he was againe put into the Tower.

All this while Queen Margaret met not with a good wind for her passage, which was her misfortune; for tis to be believed, had she been come before the battell, matters would not have gone so ill on her side as they did: at last she landed in Dorsetshire, where hea­ring of Warwickes discomfiture and death, and Henries re-impri­sonment, her wonted courage failing her she swounded, having now no further hope of comfort; the safest course she could take was to take sanctuary, she and her sonne in a Monastery at Beaulieu in Hampshire, whither all the chiefest of her faction came to finde her out; namely, the Duke of Somerset, his brother Iohn Earle of Devenshire, (who having been one of Edwards chiefe attendants, had, to his misfortune, I know not out of what capriccio, forsaken him) Iasper Earle of Pembroke, the Lord Wenlocke, (who like­wise had formerly been on Edwards side) and the Prior of St. Iohns one of the Knights of Bhodes. They had much adoe to infuse new hopes into her: shee was now no more troubled at her hus­bands imprisonment, nor at the losse of his Kingdome; (mis­fortunes by her esteemed irrevocable) her sonnes safety, as her onely comfort, and the last of all her miseries, was that which onely troubled her. Her opinion was not to tempt fortune any more for feare of endangering him: but Somerset perswaded her that if she would undertake the leading of her people (as formerly she had done) she should finde so many partakers, amongst which an infinite number whom feare had made conceale themselves) that Edward would not be able to defend himselfe against them: that King Henries goodnesse, and the expectation of his sonne, were deepely engraven in the hearts of all the Kingdome. This being by the rest confirmed, she suffered her selfe to be peswaded; she desired to provide for her sonnes safety by sending him into France, but could not effect it, for Somerset alleaged his presence was requisite; whereupon she condescended. This being resolved upon, every one went to make their necessary provisions; and the Queen with the French that were come along with her went to the Bath, whither they came afterwards all unto her. Edward had hardly had time to breath after his victory at Barnet when he heard Queen Margaret was landed, and what concourse of people flocked unto [Page] her out of Devonshire, and Cornwall, and other Southerne parts; hee knew not what to doe, as not knowing in what part shee would set upon him: hee sent forth some light-horse to make discovery, and hearing where shee was, hee com­manded that the Trained-bands should come to Abbington, whither hee himselfe came with those of London, and there­abouts. As soone as they were come thither hee marched to hinder the enemy from joyning with the Earle of Pembrooke, and the other forces, thinking that hee might facilitate his vi­ctory by fighting with them in their present condition. The Queene understanding his designe went to Bristoll, so to goe to Wales; but the difficulty of passing over Severne, and the Duke of Somersets obstinacy caused her last ruine: her right way lay by Gloucester, but the City being under the government of the Duke of Gloucester, the Kings brother, she was not suffered to passe by there; neither could she force her way having Edward at her heeles: she went to Tewkesbury, with intent to passe as speedily as she might into Wales, but the Duke of Somerset not enduring this flight tooke a fancy to make an hault and fight presently, and not waite for the comming of the Earle of Pembrooke, who could not be farre off: his reason was the danger of being defeated in this their retreat; the Captaines approved his motion of making a stand, but not of fighting: their opinion was, that they should intrench themselves, so as they might not be forced without apparent dan­ger to the enemy. The Duke seemed not to be displeased at this; for which purpose he chose the Parke neere to the City, where he so well fortified himselfe, as that he would have made it good, had not his impatient rashnesse undone him: for believing he could never quit his Trenches without battell, he thought better to give it then to receive it; with this fatall capriccio he marshalled his men. He and his brother Iohn tooke the Van-guard; he gave the Reare-ward to the Earle of Devonshire, and the maine battell to Prince Edward under the directions of the Lord Saint Iohns, and Lord Venlocke; the last being promoted to that honour by King Edward, and therefore noted of treachery. The Duke of Gloucester who had the charge of his brothers Van making use both of craft and courage set upon the trenches, and finding them not to be forced, retreated; whereupon ensued the very thing hee imagined; to wit, that Somerset growing hereupon bold, would pursue him out of his trenches; the which hee did, believing to be seconded by the Lord Venlocke with Prince Edwards Squadron; but hee not moving, the Duke, after a long conflict was defeated and driven backe into his trenches, pursued even into them by Gloucester; where finding Venlocke yet not moved, hee called him traytor, and with his Sword clove his head in two. The King this meane while having followed Gloucester into the trenches, cut the rest in pieces, some few esca­ping [Page] into the thickets of the Parke, into Monasteries, and whether else they could flie. The Queene was found in a Cha­riot halfe dead with sorrow and taken prisoner. Speed saies shee fled to a Covent of Nuns, that shee was taken thence by force, and brought to the King at Worcester. The Duke of Somerset, and the Prior of Saint Iohns valiantly fighting, were taken alive: Iohn the Dukes brother, the Earle of Devonshire, with some Knights, and 3000 more were slaine. Prince Edward fell into the hands of Sir Richard Crofts, who intended to have concealed him, but the King having promised a pension during life of an hundred pounds a yeere to whosoever should bring him to him alive or dead, and life to the young Prince, if hee were yet alive; Crofts not believing he would falsifie his faith, pre­sented him unto him. Edward looked upon him, and admiring the sweetnesse of his youth, and disposition, asked him, how he durst come with flying Colours into his Kingdome, and raise his people against him? to the which he couragiously answered, that he came to recover his fathers Kingdome, his proper and naturall inheritance, which could not be denied since it fell unto him by legitimate descent from Father, Grand-father, and Great-grand-father. The King offended at these words, strucke him in the face with a Switch which he had in his hand, whilst Clarence, Gloucester, the Marquesse Dorset, and Lord Hastings suddenly slew him with their Daggers, who were all repaid in due time with equall cruelty. The Duke of Somerset, the Prior of Saint Iohns, and fourteene others, were beheaded on a munday. This battell was the last of the Civill warres during Edwards time. The Queene was brought to London, and some yeeres after ransomed (as some say) by her father Renatus King of Sicilie for fifty thousand Crownes, which were lent him by Lewis the eleventh, and not having wherewithall to re-pay them, hee sold unto him his pretence unto the Kingdome of Naples, by which title Charles afterwards went and laid claime to it. Tillet is alledged for one of those who writ this: I con­fesse I never found any such thing in his Collection; I remember I have therein read, that Charles the Count of Provence (who tooke upon him the Title of King of Sicily after Renatus his death) made Lewis the eleventh his heire, by vertue whereof Charles the eighth pretended to that Kingdome. The two bro­thers of Sancta Martha in their Genealogicall History of the house of France, affirme the same: and speaking of this Queene, they say, she was set at liberty in the yeere 1475. having renounced all she could lay clame unto in England by the way of Joynture: they mention the opinion of the fifty thousand Crownes, but they believe it not to be true. However it was, she was sent backe to France, to spend the rest of her life in perpetuall sorrow, not for the losse of her husband, or Kingdome, but [Page] of her sonne; whose sad memory accompanied her to her grave. After this Edward visited the neighbouring Countries, chasti­sing in sundry manners such as had appeared against him, from thence he went to London, to remedy an inconvenience, which if it had hapned at the Queenes arrivall, his affaires had not succeeded so prosperously. Authors observe him to have good fortune in such accidents as might have hurt him, since they hapned at such times as they could not doe so. Had the Queene come before Warwickes defeat, he might peradventure have been enforced to a second forsaking of England: if the Duke of Somerset had stayed for the Earle of Pembrooke at Tewkesbury, or that the like accident we are to speake of had then hapned, he had met with much of danger and difficulty. The Earle of Warwicke after Edwards flight into Flaunders had given the charge of the Narrow-seas betweene England and France to Thomas Nevill a base borne sonne to the Lord Faul­conbridge Earle of Kent, a man well knowne for the greatnesse of his courage and Spirit. The Earle of Warwicke being dead, and he having lost the profits of his place (which was Vice-admirall) being declared an enemy to the King, and consequently an exile void of meanes, he betooke himselfe to live by piracy, rob­bing all ships that past by, whether friends or foes. But think­ing that by doing little harme he could doe himselfe but little good, he bethought himselfe that Edward being now with his forces in the Westerne parts of the Kingdome a faire occasion was offered of handsomely handling his affaires. With this designe he landed in Kent; he had many ships full fraught with desperate people; and such as abhorred poverty and parci­mony, not knowing how to live, but by rapine and wicked­nesse, flocked unto him: to these were joyned seventeene thousand men more, if not better, yet upon better pretences: They gave out that they would set Henry at liberty, re-invest him in his estate, and drive out the usurper: the pretence bare with it a specious shew, but their ends were to sacke London; they assaulted it on three parts, upon the Bridge, upon Algate, and upon Bishopsgate: but not able to force the City, they were by the inhabitants thereof beaten backe, and many of them slaine. Thomas Nevill their chiefe Commander hearing that Edward hasted towards him, retired with his first follow­ers to Sandwich, leaving the rest to returne upon their perill to their owne homes, but not long after having mis-governed himselfe in his charge, or given some signes of infidelity, or were it that the King thought it not safe to trust his Fleet with one of the Lancastrian faction, especially in a time when the Earle of Richmond was in Brittany, he was arrested in the Haven of Southampton and executed, paying for his former defaults, which to the hurt of all men hee had committed by [Page] Sea and Land. The Earle of Pembrooke was yet in Wales after all the rest of his faction were either slaine or fled; which much troubled Edward: he commanded Roger Vaughan (a man much followed in that Countrey) to kill him, in any whatsoever manner; but the Earle, being informed thereof, prevented him, using Vaughan as Vaughan would have used him: he then retired himselfe to Pembrooke, a strong place, where hee thought himselfe safe: but he was there besieged by Morgan ap Thomas, who so blocked up the Castle with ditches and trenches, that it was impossible for him to get out, had it not been by the meanes of David ap Thomas brother to Morgan. This man brought him forth, and embarked him and his nephew Henry Earle of Richmond, who were both by for­tune driven into a Haven in Brittany: his intention was to have landed in Normandy, and to have put himselfe into the protection of King Lewis, who was likely to runne ad­vantage thereby, for after the warre made under the title of the Common good; Lewis was very jealous of his bro­ther, and of the Dukes of Burgundy and Brittany, and fea­red that England now free from home dissentions might assist them. He apprehended nothing more, then that the Eng­lish should once more set footing in Normandy: so as the Earle of Richmond, next heire to the Crowne after Henry and his sonne, was likely to serve him as a powerfull meanes to keepe Edward so busied at home by such as sided with the house of Lancaster, as that hee should not dreame of for­raine enterprizes; but being falne upon Brittany, the Duke thereof, which was Francis the second, knew very well how to make use of this accident to his advantage: for hee was now sure he had a pledge, which would upon all occasions enforce Edward to comply with his desires. Hee graciously received them, and promised them all security; hee sent them to Uannes in appearance free and at liberty, but in effect hee set a good guard upon them. This Princes escape was the deadly blow to the house of Yorke; for though Ed­ward left no meane unassayed to have him in his hands, hee could never get him. When Edward had setled the businesse in Kent (he himselfe being gone thither to punish the faul­ty) hee thought not himselfe sufficiently established as long as Henry lived, and till hee had extirpated the roote from whence did budde forth all the rebellions. Some have thought that Gloucester put this into his head. That even from that time hee began to have thoughts of the King­dome, and that to have hereby one lesse opposition there­unto he advised his brother to it; the which I believe, but not upon that designe; there was small appearance of it, hee having another brother alive, though hee himselfe was [Page] so wholly composed of wickednesse as I shall joyne with him that shall thinke worst of him. Howsoever it was, he went to the Tower, was Counsellour, Judge, and Hang­man, and with one stroke of a Dagger slew the unfortu­nate Henry. It doth not notwithstanding clearely appeare that hee slew him with his owne hands, but tis certaine this so cruell and unjust a deede was done whilst Hee was pre­sent. This was the end of this good King; thus ended He his troubles and began his rest, Divine grace having chal­ked out the way unto Him by indowing Him with such conditions and peculiar vertues as are requisite to the find­ing out of that permanent abode, which wee all seeke after. Hee was beloved, but 'twas but a nominall love caused by His Religious vertues naturally vennerable; but wanting wis­dome and valour, Hee was in effect neither loved nor feared by any. Hee was a King from his Cradle, and to boote with his patrimoniall Kingdome was crowned King of France in Paris; an honour shared in by none before nor after: and though Hee appeared not in Battells Armed and Souldier like as did his Father, yet did not the progresse of Victories for many yeares cease in that Kingdome under his Name, till such time as (nature manifesting her selfe in him) civill Warres arose, by which Hee lost France, England, and Him­selfe. Amongst his Christianlike vertues, three are remark­ed of exemplary edification; the one of Chastity, the other two of Patience. Certaine Ladies (before Hee was mar­ried) daunced a maske before Him, who having their Bo­somes bare, and their Heads fantastically attired, they no sooner appear'd before Him but he retired into his Chamber, saying; He wondered they did not blush so much to shame themselves. From this and the like cases (hee not having in all the time of his youth nor at any time after, given any the least signe of in­constancy) some of his detractours would argue that hee was impotent, and that Prince Edward was not his Sonne: as if God could not be the Author of continency without the meanes of frigidity and naturall deficience. When hee was a prisoner hee was with a Sword wounded in the side by owne who was come thither to kill him, and who did not redouble his trust, being belike strucke with horrour in the very act of cruelty: who this man was, or how, or by whom sent is not menti­oned by Authours; when Henry was restored to his King­dome, hee who had wounded him was taken and brought before him to bee punished, but hee caused him to be un­tied and pardoned him the so doing, for that it was done to one whose sinnes deserved greater punishment. To ano­ther who in the same Prison gave him a cuffe on the Eare, hee onely replyed hee was too blame for having struck an [Page] anointed King. Henry the Seventh had once a thought to have him Canonized upon the relation of his miracles, but he forbare the prosecution of it; some think, because he thought much of the accustomed expences in such solemnities, which being done for a King, and by a King would in all reason have beene expected magnificent, which was contrary to his fru­gality. Others, (as I have beene told) would have it that being informed that distinction was made in Rome, between such as were blamelesly innocent, and such as were Saints, he gave over the pursuit of it. Henry was a lover of learning, and of the learned; he founded Eaton-Colledge, and endowed it with great Revenewes, and provision for Tutors to teach Chil­dren their first rudiments. Hee founded Kings Colledge in Cambridge, whither the Schollers of Eaton are transplanted, there to perfect their Studies in Sciences and Languages: His intention was to make it perfectly magnificent, but his mis­fortunes did not permit him to finish it: the vastnesse of the Chappell (a marke of his intention and zeale) witnesseth this unto us: Hee indowed it with a revenew of 3400 pound sterling yearely, which since that time is increased. He raign­ed 38 yeares and some few dayes, before Hee was depo­sed; and but bare six moneths after Hee was restored. He had no issue but Edward Prince of Wales, slaine as hath beene said. Hee lived fifty two Yeares. His body was car­ried from the Tower to Pauls Church invironed with a great many Armed men, where one whole day hee was exposed to the view of all men with his face bare, to the end the people might bee assured of his Death; and there did issue forth great quantity of Blood from out his wound a sight which moved compassion in those that looked on: being ta­ken from thence and carried to Black-Friers Church, his Bo­dy bled againe: at last Hee was put into a Coffin, carried to Chersey, and there privately buried without any manner of pompe or Christian-like solemnity. Henry the Seventh made his body afterwards be brought from thence and buryed in Westminster, where Hee caused a Princely Monument to be built for him. But in these times tis said not to be there, nor that it is known where it is.

Edward thus freed of his chiefest troubles, was not notwith­standing 1472. in quiet; for many more arose which, though lesse, ceased not to trouble him: amongst which some strange e­vents which I forbeare to name, which, though naturall, were by some superstitiously minded, thought to be prodigies of fu­ture mischiefe. The Earle of Oxford, who after the battell at Barnet had got into Wales, and from thence to France, having put to Sea with seventy five men passed into Cornewall, where Hee made himselfe master of Saint Michaels mount, and did [Page] there fortify himselfe with meat and ammunition: but living there, like a banisht man, full of feares, He capitulated to surrender it, His life saved; the which though it were made good unto him, yet was in such a manner as He had beene better have fled againe, then in hope of life and lively-hood live miserably imprisoned: for Hee was sent to Hammes where He was kept twelue yeares, till the last of Richard the Third, all succour denyed Him, even the company of His Wife, both of them being equally hated by the King: the Earle; for that Hee, his Father, and Brother, had mightily favoured the house of Lancaster: and his Wife; as sister to the Earle of Warwicke, the first disturber of his quiet: so as having taken from her all shee had, shee lived upon the cha­rity of other people, and by what shee daily wonne by her needle. The King forgot not the Archbishop of Yorke, though a Clergy man; and though when he was his prisoner hee en­treated him with all humanity and respect; and by afford­ing him the liberty of hunting afforded him the like to es­cape: he sent him to the Castle of Guisnes, causing him there to be strictly looked unto: and though some while after at the request of his friends, hee gave him his liberty, 'twas too late for him; for overdone with griefe and melancholly, he but for a small while injoyed his begg'd freedome: The death of his two Brothers, the extirpation of his Family, and the Kingdomes being in the hands of an enemy Prince caused his death. Henry Holland Duke of Exceter (he who Philip Comines affirmes hee hath seene begging bare Foote and bare Legg'd, from doore to doore in the Court of Charles Duke of Burgondy, and whose Grandmother was sister to Henry the Fourth, be­ing repossest of his goods when Henry the sixt was re-possest of his Kingdome, injoyed that happinesse but a small time, for at Edwards returne hee was left amongst the dead at the battell of Barnet, but comming to himselfe againe, hee tooke Sanctuary at Westminster, where hoping to obtaine par­don by the intercession of his Wife Anne Sister to the King, shee was so farre from intreating for him as that shee desi­red to be devorced; which shee obtained: whereupon for­saking the Sanctuary out of disperation, 'tis not knowne what hee did with himselfe; his Body was found upon the shore of Kent, no Ship-wrack being discerned. The inhumanity of this Anne, and the fraud of her Sister Margaret of Bur­gondy (as will be seene in the Reigne of Henry the Seventh) afford mee an observation, which, but upon such an occa­sion, I should not have lighted upon. It cannot be said but that the pretence unto the Kingdome was a principall cause of the enmity betweene the houses of Lancaster and Yorke; to thinke otherwise were to erre against common sence, but [Page] I believe that without such respect they had beene incap­able of hearty friendship, by reason of the difference of their natures, derived from their fore-fathers. For, as all that was good in the House of Yorke was wound up in Edmund Duke of Yorke the first Father thereof; so all the bad of the House of Lancaster, rested in the person of Iohn Duke of Lancaster the first Father thereof; with this difference notwithstanding; that whereas the good was intense and con­stant in Edmund, the bad was remisse and inconstant in Iohn; the former never did any harme, for being naturally inclined to do good it would have troubled him to have done evill to any one; the other having ability to do evill, and having done evill, by a vertuous resolution forbeare to do so; but this goodnesse ceased with Edmund, those who descended from him being stained with fraud and malice: and evill (such as it was) ceased likewise with Iohn, all who descended from him proving vertuous; but as Henry the Fourth, his onely Sonne, may seeme not to merit the name of good having usurped the Kingdome, and to secure himselfe there­in committed so many excesses; so Edward the eldest Sonne of Yorke may seeme not to deserve the name of bad, have­ing in vertue out done his Father dying gloriously in the battell of Agencourt: but for all this the observation is not erroneous; for if Henry did usurpe the Kingdome, 'twas not by consultation, or any fancy of his owne, for hee had never dreampt thereof had not the people called him there­unto, and Richards ill government enforc't him. On the contrary Edward Duke of Yorke lost all claime to goodnesse, by conspiring against the said Henry to bereave him both of Life and Kingdome, not having beene any wayes injur'd by him; for all the rest they admit not of exception: all the Lancastrians were good; those of Yorke, bad: Edward the Fourth did almost alwayes falsify his Faith, the Duke of Clarence; first was traytour to his Brother▪ then to his Fa­ther in Law, Richard the Third a monster in perfidiousnesse and cruelty, all of both houses were notwithstanding e­qually valiant, Henry the sixth excepted, whose intentive­nesse to Divine things, tooke from him the thought of hu­mane assaires; whereupon as the house of Lancaster lost the Kingdome in him, through His too much goodnesse, so the house of Yorke lost it in Richard the Third through his height of wickednesse: so as it is not to bee wondered at if Henry the Eighth, proceeding afterwards from these two Races, did in his first yeare proceed so well being begotten by a Lancastrian father, and afterwards so ill, his mother being of the house of York; not that she was bad, but by the influence of her bloud.

[Page 41] Edwards revenge was not bounded with the punishment of the great ones; for, making enquiry after such as had born Arms against him, he caused many of the meaner sort to be executed; and, not able to inflict the like punishment on them all, without the mark of cruelty, he taxed them all in sums of Money, some more, some lesse, according to their possessions. But the Earl of Pembrooks and the Earl of Richmonds escape did much trouble him, as that which did most import him, since they were forth­coming and out of his reach. He sent over into Britanny, and spared neither for promises, nor ready moneys to obtain them. But the Duke unwilling to violate the laws of hospitality and his plighted faith, denied to deliver them; upon promise not­withstanding to have such a care of them, as that they should not molest him. He stood in need of the friendship of England, for that Lewis kept him perpetually busied, so as it made much for him to have those two Earles in his custodie, that he might so hold Edward in hand and in hope, and make him depend upon his will and pleasure with firm resolution notwithstanding, in com­miseration of their misfortunes, never to yeeld them up: he notwithstanding parted them one from another, and took from them such English as waited upon them, placing his own servants about them, to the end that, making them safe, Edward might be the more secure, by his keeping promise with him, and faith with them. But Edward not herewithal satisfied (foreseeing, as it may be thought) the evil that was to ensue thereby, though not in his life-time) sent unto him again, under pretence of thanking him, but, in effect, to tie him with a chain of Gold to look well to them: he obliged himself to pay unto him a yeerly Pension, hoping that the gate being once open to the receiving of Moneys, he might easily obtain them by some great sum, when his honesty and faith waxen old might be wrought upon by the batteries of Bribery. But if he were deceived in the one, he was not so in the other; for the Pension made him the more diligent in their Custody.

Charles Duke of Burgondy sent Ambassadours over into England, to move Edward to crosse the Seas and make Wars with France, 1473. that so he might recover those Provinces which, not many yeers before, were lost by the English, promising him to assist him in the recovery thereof. Edward was herewithal much pleased; he called a Parliament, and easily obtained Moneys, wherewith he made requisite provisions for a businesse of so great importance. But before we proceed any further herein, 'tis requisite we take a short view of some few yeers past, that we may finde the Rise of this Commotion, and so the better understand the cause and ground-work thereof.

There was so great an Antipathy between the King of France and Duke of Burgondy, as it made them differ in all their actions: their enmity grew ever since the King, being Dolphine, and fled from his father, did retire himself into Flanders, where he tarried [Page 42] many yeers, defray'd, and nobly entertain'd by Philip father to Charles; so as that which in others would have served as the seed of friendship and good will, served them all their life-time as the cause of hatred.

The King was endued with many excellent conditions; for wis­dom he was not inferiour to any of the then-Princes in Chri­stendom; though that wisedom (according to those who with more superstitious accuratenesse define it) did rather deserve the name of Craft; the object thereof being for the most part deceit. He conceived that, having himself been turbulent and refractory to his father, his brother Charles, the Princes of the blood, and other great ones might with more reason be like to him: That there were but two remedies for it: To keep them under, by not committing any charge unto their trust; and To disunite them, by sowing discord amongst them. Those whom he most feared, and consequently most hated, were the Dukes of Burgondy and of Britanny, great and puissant Princes; and much the more, for that they had obliged themselves by plighted faith to run one and the same Fortune. He much feared his Brother, not that he had any brains (for being very simple, there was small cause of fear in him) but that, seduced by other mens warinesse, he might serve for a pretence to their ambitions; he therefore fed him still with hopes, but kept him in perpetual poverty, to bereave him of all means whereby to make him considerable; he never made good that which he promised him; and though he after­wards gave him the Dutchy of Berry, 'twas in so dry a fashion, as having distasted him, he fled into Britanny, whence arose the War of the Common Good, in which they all joyned against him. Phi­lip the father of Charles, who was then alive, did not confederate with them, but being distasted that the King would have redeem­ed all such Cities as he held upon the Soame (which could not be denied him, according to the Treaty at Arras) he suffered his son to go over to them, who made a conclusion thereof with a Peace, not to the Common good, but to the good of particulars: for Lewis, to free himself of them, freely promised all they could demand, intending not to perform any thing save what he could not chuse; and waiting for an occasion to ruine them one by one, when they should be disjoyned, he restored to Burgondy the fore­named Cities, he having paid nine moneths before Four hundred thousand Crowns for them; he quitted them now for nothing, and not to be redeemed under Two hundred thousand, and that not till after the death of Charles. He created Count St. Paul Constable of France; he yeelded up the Duke of Britanny cer­tain Towns in Normandy, which he had taken; and to his brother, instead of the Dukedom of Berry, he gave the Dukedom of Nor­mandy, which he soon after took from him, changing it for the Dukedom of Guienne, to the end that being far from the help of England and Burgondy, he might take it from him as he had done the former, and as he already began to do, had he not by poison [Page 43] died. Lewis his Designe, after his brothers death, was to ruine the other two that yet remained, using all possible means to sepa­rate them one from the other, as he had separated his brother from them both. Duke Philip being this mean while dead, and he having made new agreements with Duke Charles, his son, he kept not any one of them; but seeing him intangled in the Ger­man Wars, he set the Emperour, the Dukes of Lorrein and of Austria, and the Switzers upon his back; which was the cause why Charles, not able to oppose two mighty enemies at the same time, incited Edward against him, in like manner as his father Philip had incited Henry the fifth against Charles the seventh, father to this Lewis. But the Duke had undertaken to justle with a wit su­periour to his: Lewis was a dissembler, patient, cautelous, accu­stomed to war no lesse with Businesse then with Arms, and more by Moneys then by exposing himself to hazard; a Captain who knew how to watch his opportunity, to meet occasion, to feed even the most incredulous with hopes; in his Fights, fear did not render him stupid, nor good successe, proud; he was endued with a judgement void of harmfull opinions; in chusing out times for the execution of his designes, he came not short of whatever provident and compleat General. None of which, set Valour aside, was found in Charles, the vastnesse of whose imaginations gave not way to any consideration. He conceived he might at the same time keep Lewis lowe, reassume his ancient Title of King in Burgondy, extend his Dominions as far as runs the River Rhine, having in his imagination devoured Alsatia, the Switzers and Lorrein; so as he may be compared to those who, grasping at all, have made nothing sure but a miserable end unto themselves. Had he not dreamt of all the rest, but onely applied himself to Lewis, his cunning would not have been able to have saved him.

Edward spent much time in putting himself in order for this Voyage, having spent the Money given unto him for the War, 1474. upon his own occasions; so as not knowing any more expedient means, he caused a List to be made of all the richest and ablest men in London, of what condition soever; and calling them be­fore him, he by his perswasions wrought so well upon them, shewing them the necessity of his Undertaking, the honour of the Kingdom, the profit that would redound, and the extraordi­nary charge required thereunto, as they all willingly suffered themselves to be assessed, some to gratifie him, some for example, some for fear; so as he got more Money then he needed for that purpose. A reverend old rich widow being by the King deman­ded what she would contribute upon so urgent an occasion, an­swered; Your Majesties Royal and amiable presence exacts from me twenty pounds sterling. The King was pleased with the answer and with the gift, which he witnessed by kissing her; wherewithal the old wom [...]n was so well pleased, as she gave him Twenty pounds more. When he was come to Dover, he there found fif­ty Ships sent by the Duke of Burgondy from Holland and Zeland [Page 44] for transportation of Horse, which was the diligence he used in this Enterprise: but such was the abundance of all things there, as they could not be past over to Calais in lesse then Three weeks; so as if the King of France had had any Ships, as he had not, he had easily hindred them, or else have forced Edward to a double charge in securing their passage by a Fleet at Sea. The Army consisted of One thousand five hundred Horsemen, most of the Horses barded with Trappings, and each Horseman had sundry led Horses: great store of Foot, but Authors do not name the number; Fifteen thousand Bowmen, all on Horseback; infinite was the number of men employed about the Artillery and Tents; and amongst all this number, there was not one unuseful person.

Commines says, Never did King of England passe the Seas with a more powerful Army, nor with better men, nor more richly armed. To boot with these, Three thousand men were set apart to go for Britanny. Edward, before he went from Dover, sent Gar­tier a Herauld, and a Norman by Nation, with Letters to Lewis, wherein he demanded the Kingdom of France as properly belong­ing to him; which if he should deny, he denounced fire and sword against him, as against one who usurped what belonged to another. Lewis would read the Letter aside, to avoid the occasi­on of whispers which thereby might be given. When he had read it, he said unto the Herauld, He knew his Master the King of England came not into France out of any motion of his own, but egged thereunto by the Duke of Burgondy (who, having rui­nated himself, thought by his means to raise himself up again) and the Constable, who, as Uncle to his wife, had found more credit with him then he deserved; but let him be assured they would not make good any thing they had promised him; the Duke by reason of his impotency, and the Constable by his disloyalty, being born to deceive all men, and to sowe distrust where he ho­ped for advantage: that he had made him Constable, to boot with other favours and Acts of Grace, with which since he could not oblige him, Edward was not likely to do it; for that it was impossible for him to tread in any path but that of Fraud and Treachery: That Edward having to do with such people in a sea­son so neer Winter, he might do better to agree with him, then to hazard his Person, Reputation, and People (trusting on two whereof the one was unable, the other unfaithful) and run ha­zard of too late Repentance. This being said, he with his own hands gave unto the Herauld Three hundred Crowns, and pro­mised him a thousand more, if the King his Master and he should gree, whereby he obliged him to do him the best service he could. Gartier, allured by his liberality, promised to do what he was able; but that the businesse was not to be moved till the King his Ma­ster had past the Seas; that then he would advise him to send a Herauld to demand safe-Conduct for Ambassadours, who might addresse himself to the Lord Howard or the Lord Stanley, to whom he would bring him in. With this he took his leave, and [Page 45] was by Lewis in publike (besides what he had given him in pri­vate) presented with Thirty Ells of Crimson-Velvet. When Edward was come to Calais, he was troubled not to finde Charles there, who according to appointment was to have waited for him in that place; but he was more offended, that whereas the War should have been begun three Moneths before his arrival, he had not yet begun it, nor was he like to begin it, being busied in the Siege of Nuz: He sent forthwith to him, to know what he meant to do. Charles after the getting of Guel­ders and the County of Zutphen, was carried away with new con­ceits: he was made Heir to those Countreys by Arnaldus the last Duke, who had disinherited his son Adolphus, who had behaved himself ungratefully and cruelly towards him; so as being pos­sessed thereof, he thirsted after the neighbouring Countreys, and neglected the War of France, which most imported him: but be­ing confirmed in this humour by the slowe proceedings of Germa­ny, by the avarice and wretchlesnesse of the Emperour Frederick the Third, who was not able to oppose him without the power of the whole Empire, he bent himself thereunto: to this pur­pose he procured a Truce with Lewis for some moneths. Lewis his Counsellors were averse to the granting of this Truce, but himself was of a contrary opinion; foreseeing, that if Charles were once entangled in these affairs, he would never rid his hands of them; for by having the Emperour, the Empire and the Princes thereof his enemies, he could not have leasure to employ himself elsewhere. Charles his designe was to get the do­minion of Rhine as far as Basil, which he thought he might do; for he already possessed all the Lands between Holland and Collen; and between Collen and Basil he enjoyed the County of Farrata, which was pawn'd to him by Sigismund Duke of Austria, the which he intended never to restore; and this his designe was oc­casioned by his having taken into his protection Robert of Bavaria Archbishop of Collen Brother to Lodowick Prince Elector, who with a joynt consent was by the Clergie and Commonalty driven out, and they placed Nortmannus Brother to Lodowick Barbarus Landgrave of Hessen in his place: But because Nuz a Fort of great consequence Three miles distant from Collen held with the City, he besieged it (it being defended by Henry Brother to Nort­mannus) believing that when he should have taken this place, Collen would not long hold out. Lewis, seeing him thus madly minded, it redounding to his advantage that he should more and more be engaged therein, prolonged the Truce, and took from him all manner of scruple of breaking it. Charles laid Siege to Nuz at the same time that he had perswaded Edward to war with France, and was a whole yeer before it, when he thought suddenly to have taken it, and to have been time enough to have met Edward with his Fleet, which was as fair a one as any Prince could have. The Emperour and all the Germane Princes came to the succour of this Town, hoping to meet 20000 fighting [Page 46] men there which Lewis had promised to send, but they came not, he having need of them himself to oppose the English, who were hourly expected in France. Lewis rather endeavoured to have peace with Charles, or to prolong the Truce, the which he did not obtain; for Charles presumed he could at the same time take Nuz, drive the Emperour away, and ruine Lewis, being set upon by three enemies; himself, England, and Britanny. Lewis, on the other side, favoured by the length of the Siege, and the slack­nesse of the English, assoon as the Truce was expired, took ma­ny Cities of his, burnt all his Countrey between Abbevile and Ar­raz, and took Iames of S. Paul, Brother to the Constable, priso­ner: He made the Dukes of Lorrain and of Calabria his enemies, who entred Luxenburg; and likewise the Duke of Austria and the Switzers, who took from him the County of Farrata. He notwithstanding all this, was obstinate in continuing the Siege, nor did he rise from before the Town till forced by necessity, and divers incommodities; the which had he endured but Ten days longer (as he might very well have done) the Fort had been yeelded up unto him; for people died there of hunger: but he raised the Siege, not knowing their necessity; and would have raised it before, all hopes of gaining it being lost, had it not been that out of ostentation he might say, that the Empe­rour accompanied by all the Princes of the Empire, as well Ecclesiastical as Secular, could not make him raise his Siege, though the Emperours Army was four times as great as his: but seeing his Army consumed through long sufferings, the death of 4000 of the best Souldiers he had, the losse of Farrata, the Dutchy of Luxenburg pillaged, the Counties of Poictiers and Pic­cardy burnt, the King of England so much desired by him, and so hardly wrought thereunto, at Calais, expecting him, and threatning to return; he was content to raise it, remitting Nuz to the Popes Legat, to dispose thereof as the Apostolike Sea should think good. Thus having sent the remainder of his people into Lorrein and Bar, that by sacking them they might refresh themselves, he himself, with a very small attendance, went to Calais, where he was but coldly welcomed, as one who was ex­pected in a Warlike, not in a Complemental posture.

They did notwithstanding follow him, and were by him led by the way of Bullen to Peron, whereinto he suffered but few of them to enter, being jealous of the place as if they had been his enemies. The Constable had sundry times promised Charles to give up unto him Saint Quintines; but not having done it, and meaning nothing lesse, he now sent to him Lewis Creville with his excuse, saying, that if he should have delivered it up to him, he should have done him a disservice, by bereaving him of all belief of his service in France: but that now seeing he was joyned with the King of England, he durst do it. He sent him likewise a Letter of Credit wherewithal to serve himself with the King, and to assure him of his best assistance in his behalf; [Page 47] this was accompanied with a Writing sealed up, wherein he pro­mised to assist and serve all the Confederates of Burgundy, namely the King of England, against any whosoever, none excepted. The Constable was by nature perfidious and full of falshood, but no ways wise; so as it is no wonder if notwithstanding all his cunning he was ruined: for evil doings seldom end well, e­specially when craft and treachery are used towards one more crafty and more powerful. The Fox loseth all his wiles, when in the Lions paws. The Constable, while he was but Count S. Paul, had served Philip Duke of Burgundy, and gained the good will of his son Charles, whom he governed in all his ways; the which Lewis observing, he thought to win him over to his side, by making him his Constable, believing by this new obligation to corrupt his former ancient friendship; whilst Charles was con­fident the Count would never abandon his Cause: and both of them were deceived: For, though he might at the same time have kept his old Master, pay'd all Duties to his new one, and inhansed his deserts with the one and with the other; yet would not his bad inclinations suffer him so to do: for instead of being a means of peace and friendship between them, he stirred them both up to war and hatred. Sincerity and Candor were not mer­chandise for his Ware-house; nor could he have made use of them, had he been willing, whilest he believed his present great­nesse could not be augmented, nor yet preserved, but by his nou­rishing Discord between these two Princes, and causing all their actions to have a dependency on him, by making himself the Needle of the Dyal, which sometimes points to this, sometimes to that side. He was to blame to justle with two, the one of which was not inferiour to him in craft, to wit, Charles; the other surpassing him therein, which was Lewis: the former was indued wth little wisedom, as was he; the other, with so much, as he might have been therein master to them both. 'Twould be too tedious to number up his disloyalties: it may suffice to say, that he fomented the War between them, that he might necessitate Charles to marry his daughter to the Duke of Guienne: If he did it not, he threatned him with ruine, shewing uuto him Lewis his Forces; and if he did it, he promised him S. Quintines, and to procure the Duke of Britanny and his son-in-law to declare them­selves against Lewis: whilst Lewis waging War with Charles, and being by him egged on, not knowing what he did, made War against himself, by enforcing him to implore their aid against him, by a Marriage equally detested by them both. The Duke of Guienne dying, he continued their Discord, lest, if they should agree, they might discover his evil Offices the one unto the other, whereby that might befal him, which indeed did: and believing that in case of danger his refuge might be with lesse hazard to Charles then to Lewis, the former not being so wary as the other, he allured him by the promise of S. Quintines, the which in time of peace, and by the instigation of the said Constable, was by [Page 48] Lewis taken from him, together with the Town of Amiens. He proposed surprisal for the way of delivering it up, promising he would suffer it to be taken; the which Charles having divers times offered at, was continually mockt and deluded, and those who went against it, were treated ill; whereat though Charles was scandalized, yet was he forced to admit his excuses: he made him believe he had sent to surprise it at an unfitting time; that if he had suffered it then to be taken, he should have lost all his credit with the King and with France, to the losse and prejudice of the Duke of Burgundy. Lewis knew part of this dissembling, and saw even into his bosom; but he knew not how to punish him, unlesse he should make an agreement with Charles: for the Constable being possest of S. Quintines, and having much of his own Patrimonial Lands lying round about it, being very well followed, well ally'd, and of great Revenue, he feared he might lose the Fort if he should discover himself to be his enemy. But the King of England's coming was his bane: Edward believed that S. Quintines & the other adjacent places might serve him for places of Gariosn the next Winter; the Constables last promise, the Writing which was sent, and the credit given him by Charles, would not suffer him to think otherwise. Whereupon he mar­ched towards it, and Charles led on the way; but when they were neer the place, and some of Edwards Troops advanced themselves, believing they should have been received in assoon as they were within sight of the Walls, the Canon plaid upon them, and they might see themselves charged by sundry Troops of Horse and Foot, which slew two or three of them. This made the King believe he was (as indeed he was) basely betrayed.

The Duke not knowing what to say to it, went his way the next day for meer shame, and left these new people, unacquain­ted with the Countrey, abandoned to Fortune, in danger of not being able either to serve him or themselves: and Edward seeing he was used but as an instrument to work the designes of others, began better to bethink himself. His men had taken a servant of Iames de Gratsi, a Gentleman who then served the King, prisoner: Edward would have him set at liberty without ransome: and the Lord Howard and Lord Stanley having furnished him with Mo­neys for his expences, loaded him with the presentment of their services to the King, in case he should come to speak with him, which at his first coming he did. This News seeming strange to Lewis, who did not reflect upon the names of those that sent him, his naturall jealousie wrought so far upon him, as that he made Irons to be clapt upon him, taking him to be but a Spie: the which he the rather did, for that his Masters brother was in great favour with the Duke of Bretagne: But after he had made him be privately examined by some, and had spoke with him himself, he remembred the English Heraulds words; That if he did resolve to treat with Edward, he should send a Herauld to demand safe-Conduct [Page 49] for his Ambassadours; prescribing unto him, that he should make his addresse to the Lord Howard and Lord Stanley. Having well bethought himself herein, some time past before he could re­solve whether to do it or no: At last, he resolved and pitcht up­on a person to send, wherein his choice seemed very strange. Mon­sieur de Hales had a servant with whom Lewis had never spoken but once; he thought this man fit for the employment: he was a man poor in aspect, but rich in understanding; who could at the same time expresse himself boldly enough, and yet with mo­destie; whereupon it may be said that in this his choice he shew­ed his wisedom: He caused a Heraulds Coat be made for him, whereof there was none at that time in the Camp; for Lewis was an enemy to Apparences, no great friend to Decency, and no ways curious in the accustomed Formalities of Princes. This man received his Instructions, and presented himself before the English Camp. He made known to the Lords Howard and Stanley that he desired to speak with the King; and chancing to come when the King was at Dinner, he was led into a Tent to dine. When he was brought unto the King, he told him in Lewis his name, He was come from the King of France, his Master, who was desirous of Peace with his Majestie and his Kingdom, as that which was to be sought for by both of them, by reason of the commodity of Commerce, and which was necessary for the Subjects both of the one and the other: That the King his Master wondred to see him come into France, since he had never given him occasion to wage War: That if he had favoured Warwick, it was not out of any ill will to him or his House, but in respect of the Duke of Burgundy his inexorable enemy, who had made his Majestie of England take Arms against him, not for that he in­tended any advantage or honour to him thereby, but that the Forces of England might better his own condition and that of his Colleagues: That the Dukes affairs needed Accommodation, not War; the which might be witnessed by the state his Master found him in, since, being undone by a long and unfortunate Siege, he was reduced to such a passe, as that he could not sustain himself but at the charge of others. He wished Edward to con­sider that he had Winter at his back; That he was in the Field, and unprovided of Towns, not being come out of his own electi­on, but called in to please his Subjects; who if they desired War with France, 'twas out of passion; since reason shewed them there was no appearance of their reaping any profit thereby, but rather the contrary; for building upon the Duke of Burgundy and the Constable, they were certainly to be deceived, their Coyn be­ing of a false alloy: That he knew the King of England had been at great expence to come into France; but that if he would give way unto a Treaty, his Master would give him such satis­faction, as that he, his Nobility, and Countrey should have rea­son to rest satisfied: That if it would please him to send Lewis a safe-Conduct for a hundred Horse, he would send Ambassa­dours [Page 50] to wait upon him where he pleased, either in any Vil­lage, or between the two Camps; and that Lewis would not fail to send the like to wait upon his Ambassadours. Edward and the major part of his Counsel were well pleased with this Proposition. The Herauld was suddenly dispatched away, being presented with a hundred Angels in a gilt-Cup, and had along with him the Safe-Conduct he desired, and was accompanied by an English Herauld who might bring back the like; with the which assoon as he returned the Ambassadours met in a Village neer Amiens; the two Armies being four Leagues distant from thence. And though the Demands of the English were exorbitant, standing still upon their old Pretences of demanding the Crown, and in the second place the Dutchies of Normandy and Guienne; yet the one being desirous to return home, the others to send them away assoon as possibly they could, this Treaty ended upon two chief Conditions, besides such as concer­ned Commerce: The one, That Lewis should pay to Ed­ward Seventy five thousand Crowns (Seventy two thousand says Commines) before he went from France: the other, That the Dolphin (who was afterwards Charles the Eighth) should marry ELIZABETH, eldest Daughter to Ed­ward (who was afterwards Wife to Henry the Seventh) allowing her for her Maintenance Fifty thousand Crowns a yeer; which were for Nine succeeding yeers to be paid her in the City of LONDON; at the end whereof the Mar­riage being to be consummated, the married Couple were joyntly to enjoy all the Revenue of the Dutchy of Guienne, the annual payment of the abovesaid Fifty thousand Crowns cea­sing: And that the Peace between the two Kingdoms should be understood to continue during these Nine yeers, their friends therein comprehended, namely, the Dukes of Burgundy and Bri­tanny.

Many blamed Lewis for these Agreements; and not looking in­to the reasons thereof, imputed pusillanimity and cowardise unto him; but they did not well understand the businesse. Commines says, that besides his declared enemies, who were the Dukes of Britanny and Burgundy, and the Constable, he had so many private concealed ones in the body of his Kingdom, as with­out this Agreement he might have suffered losse. He mean­eth (as I believe) such Princes and Lords who not approving of the Person of the King, would have caused the good o France which Charles said once he wisht her, to wit, That in stead of One King she might have Six. But suppose there were no such dangers; there yet remains one reason not spoken of by him, which of it self ought to have perswaded him to do what he did. The end of War is Victory; but all Vi­ctories are not equally profitable: there is difference be­tween overcoming to preserve our own, and overcoming to [Page 51] get what is anothers. The Victories of Charles the Seventh a­gainst Henry the Sixth, were of the later sort; for he preserved his Crown, and won what Henry possest in France; but Lewis, who in his overcoming could not pretend to other advantage then the driving out an enemy who hazarded nothing, while he ha­zarded all, was not to put himself upon Fortune without a pro­portionable recompence to his expence and losse: so as if he bought Peace, 'twas in respect of his danger, at so cheap a rate, as the Seventy five thousand Crowns he paid down ready money, and the Fifty thousand for Nine yeers, would not have served him for One bare yeers expence to boot with a Thousand dangers and damages; so as he did what wisedom bad him do, not atten­ding the opinion of others who did not arrive at this Physical knowledge, That real Victory is properly his who giving way to dangers that he may withstand them, doth without danger obtain his end, as he did: all this notwithstanding, I should not praise him, had he no other enemies beside Edward; for 'twere to propose to Princes a Maxime of Cowardize. His men belie­ved that Edward seemed to make an agreement, that he might the better deceive him; but he thought not so; for Edwards occa­sions did not square with such dissimulation: He had the Winter at hand, wanted Towns, was distasted by Charles, deceived by the Constable, was naturally a lover of his Pastimes: so as Lewis his chiefest care was how to be rid of him, not valuing Moneys, or what others thought of him; and that he might the sooner be gone, he borrowed of every one; he would willingly have paid more, but would not part with any Towns or Provinces; he would rather have hazarded all. Edward gave him to under­stand he would by writing give him notice of some that betray­ed him. I know not whether the Constable knew thus much or no, but he had many reasons to doubt it; and remembring that at a Diet held the yeer before at Bovines, Lewis and Charles had secretly proscribed him, to the end that he might pay for his so many Treacheries (though, by somes means he used, Lewis after­ward hindred the execution thereof) he doubted the like in this Agreement: his conscience accused him of his past frauds used with the other two, and now with Edward; so as he feared lest their agreement might be his ruine: this caused him day by day to send new Messengers to Lewis with advertisements and counsels drawn from the Forge of his unfortunate Inventions; making himself so much the more suspected, by how much the affected ostentati­on of his fidelity bereft him of belief. He thought that since Lewis hated no Prince alive more then Charles, to hold him in hand with hateful Reports was the means to continue him still his enemy; and that the War continuing, the thred that was woven for his destruction, might either be lost, or else grow knotty. He sent unto him his Secretary, and together with him a Gentleman called Lewis Greville, who being first referred to Monsieur de Bouchage, and to Commines, Lewis (being informed of [Page 52] the businesse) sent for Monsieur de Contai, one of Charles his servants, who, though he were his prisoner, did notwithstanding passe with Messages between them: he placed this man in a Cupboard which was in his Chamber, to the end that, hearing what he was to say to these men, he might report the same to Charles; and placing himself neer to the Cupboard, he sent for them in. Their Message was, That they were sent from Charles to the Constable, to alienate him from friendship with England, and that finding him distasted by the King of England, they had wel-nigh perswaded him not onely to abandon his friendship, but to lend his helping hand to rifle him in his return. This was spoken by Creville, who believing to be better credited by humouring him, imitated Charles his action, stamping with his foot, swearing, and giving Edward injurious terms. Lewis feign­ing as if he had been deaf, made him say the same thing over again, to the end that Contai might the better hear him; who mad to hear his Prince thus abused, longed to acquaint him with it. This mock-mask ended with an advice of the Constables (who knew not that the Agreement was fully made with Edward) that Lewis, to shun the danger which hung over him, should make a Truce with Charles, (whereunto he obliged himself to make Charles stand) and that he should give unto the English a Town or two, to hold them in hopes this Winter, who could not be so wicked as not to be content therewith. The designes of these his Counsels were, that the English by this means tarrying in France, and the Truce with Charles being to expire the next Spring, Lewis might be subject to the fear of War, and he might gain time by these two Towns to pacifie Edward for his abuse at S. Quintines, and to sowe Dissention between the other two; so as all three having need of him, he might, by diversly deceiving them, save himself; and seem to oblige them, whilest he did betray them.

Assoon as Creville was gone, Contai came forth from the Cup­board, as much incensed as Lewis was gladded that Charles should know what sport the Constable made with him.

I have this particular from Commines, as all the rest concerning the businesse now treated on: which though it be not simply requisite to our Story, yet it is most necessary for knitting up the businesse, and to make known the natures of the above-named, together with the true causes which did fore-ripen the Consta­bles death.

A Parley and Interview was this mean while agreed upon be­tween the two Kings, with agreement that Edward should return for England assoon as he should have received his Seventy five thousand Crowns, and that in pledge of his return he should leave as Hostages the Lord Howard and Sir Iohn Cheynes Master of his Horse, who were to be set at liberty upon the certain News of his arrival in England. Lewis assigned Sixteen thousand Crowns annual Pension to be given to some of the chief English [Page 53] Lords, and was very bountiful in his gifts to Edwards servants. When Charles heard of this Accord, he hasted to finde out Ed­ward, from whom understanding what had been done, and how that he had comprehended him in the Truce, he answered, That he had not brought him out of England for any thing that con­cerned himself, but for Edwards own affairs, to the end that he might have occasion to imitate the glorious actions of his Prede­cessors in France, by recovering what of right belonged unto him; That since he was agreed not to do it, he was no ways concerned therein: and as touching the Truce, to the end he might see how little he esteemed it, he would not accept thereof, till Three Moneths after he should be landed in England. The King would have convinced him with reason, shewing him that all the incon­venience had risen from him: but he not listening thereunto, departed so much distasted, as there never was after this any good Intelligence between them. If Charles were angry at this Truce, it amazed the Constable much more, before he knew the cer­tain conclusion thereof; and when he knew it, he sent his Con­fessor to Edward, to intreat him not to give belief to Lewis his words or promises; That he would be pleased to accept of the two Towns of Eu and S. Valleri, which should be delivered up unto him; That he might lodge there the beginning of the Win­ter, promising him better Towns within two moneths space; but he named them not: He offered likewise to lend him Fifty thousand Crowns, to the end that he might not be necessitated to make the Agreement. But Edward answered, The Truce was concluded, and was to be observed; if he were displeased there­at, he might thank himself; for if he had kept his promise to him, he had not done it.

The place of Parley between the two Kings, was Pichines, a Town belonging to the Vidame of Amiens, three Leagues distant from the Citie, where whilst a wooden Bridge was cast over the River of Some, and parties from either side were sent to view it, Edward came within half a League of Amiens, and was by Lewis presented with Three hundred Cartload of the best Wines that could be found, and his people had in the City free egresse and regresse. Lewis had caused many Tables laden with all sorts of salt-Meats which might provoke to drink, to be set at the entring in of the Gate; they were guarded by the best drinkers of France. Besides all this, he gave Commission to all the Innes and Taverns that they should feast the English, and not suffer them to pay a peny: Upon which occasion, Nine thousand English came into the Town. Some of the more cautelous French see­ing this, were not void of suspition, in somuch as they did ad­vertise Lewis thereof: who having set people to observe their behaviours: Finding them all singing and making merry, and the most part of them drunk, he found no cause of fear. 'Twas a wonder that in three days, all which time this open Court was kept, there hapned not any falling out or quarrel amongst so [Page 54] many drunkards. Assoon as the Bridge was fully finished, Ed­ward marched towards it with his Army in a glorious manner; Lewis his Army being nothing in comparison to his. Lewis was come thither before Edward. Amongst the Orders of the Parley, one was, That each of them shoule send Four of their men in­to the company of the others, to have an eye upon what should be done, to the end that if they should finde any cause of sus­pition, they might advertise their Masters. But this was need­lesse. The two Kings were to be attended upon the Bridge by Twelve men onely, of which those that are named, were, Iohn Duke of Burbon, the Cardinal of Burbon his Brother, and Com­mines Lord of Argenton, who had a Suit upon him like to that which King Lewis wore; for it was his custom oftentimes to have some-body neer him clad in like manner as he himself was.

Commines writes that when Edward appeared, his very presence spoke him a King; and that though he begun to grow somewhat fat, he was notwithstanding very handsom, though not altoge­ther so comely as when Warwick made him flee to Flanders, at which time he was the handsomest and most comely man that ever he saw. There were with him his Brother the Duke of Clarence, the Earl of Northumberland, the Lord Hastings his Cham­berlain, the Bishop of Ely his Chancellor, and others to the number of Twelve. The Duke of Gloucester came not thither, for that having not given his consent to the Truce, he would not be present when it was to be sworn unto. When Edward was come within Five spaces of the Grate, he took off his Cap, which was of black Velvet, whereon was a rich Jewel of Dia­monds: they made [...]owe Reverences each to other, and embra­ced each other thorow the partitions of the Grate. Lewis was the first that spoke: he said, He never coveted any sight so much as this, and that he blessed God that had brought them to­gether to so good an End. Edward having courteously replied in French, the Chancellor of England read the Treaty, asking Lewis whether it were the same that he had sent, and if he were therewithal content: he answered, Yes, as likewise with that which was sent him from the King of England. Hereupon the Masse-book and the Crosse being brought, they laid their hands thereon, and swore to observe the Truce of Nine yeers, com­prehending therein those that were within named, and the Mar­riage between their children. This being done, Lewis said mer­rily to Edward, He might do well to come to Paris, to see the fair Ladies there, and take his pastime; and that if he should chance to commit some trivial trangressions, he would assigne the Car­dinal of Burbon to him for his Confessor. This Cardinal was a young Prince, no enemy to good-fellowship: So as Edward be­ing well pleased with the complemental Invitation, Lewis for a good while play'd upon them both. Lewis after this comman­ded his men to retire; and Edwards men forth with withdrew uncommanded. They discoursed a pretty while together, it not [Page 55] being well known whereon, but, as it is believed, to the prejudice of the Constable. Lewis asked him what he would advise him to do if the Duke of Burgundy should not accept of the Truce (as it was likely he would not, in regard of the proud terms he had used to him.) Offer it him the second time, re­plied Edward, and if he shall not then accept of it, do what you think best. Lewis made this enquiry concerning Burgundy, onely that he might enquire of Edward (as he did) and discover what his opinion was of the Duke of Bretaigne. Edward said, The Duke of Bretaigne was his friend, and such a one as he had not found the like in his need: that therefore he desired Lewis not to mo­lest him, but suffer him to live in quiet. Lewis was not well pleased with this answer; for his intentions were not good to­wards that Prince; and he was the worse pleased, for that he knew not the reason of it, which was his detaining of the Earl of Richmond; for it was in Bretaigne's power to trouble Edward if he listed: for though he should neither have assisted Richmond with Men nor Money, yet the permitting him to return to Eng­land, would be sufficient to shake all the foundation of that King­dom. Lancasters faction was ready to rise, hearing of his name, and to trouble the possession of the Crown; the which he ha­ving peaceably enjoy'd since Henry's death, he was not likely to do so, long, so opposed. Lewis was ignorant of these interests; but cloking his dislike, they took leave each of other, having embraced such Lords and Princes as were there. Edward retur­ned to his Camp, and Lewis to Amiens, from whence he sent to Edward whatever he thought behoveful for him, even to Torches and Candles. The Duke of Gloucester, that he might pay the dues of Civility, went to visit him, and returned presented with silver Plate, and horses most richly caparison'd.

This King spared nothing where he might win those that might either be serviceable to him or harmful. He met with two things at this Interview which displeased him: the one, Edwards incli­nation to come to Paris; for being a Prince amorously given, he might by falling in love with some Lady, fall likewise in love with the Countrey, and so perchance take an humour to tread in the footsteps of his Predecessor: the other, his having decla­red himself so passionate in the Duke of Britanny's interest: He endeavoured to withdraw him from the later of these two; he caused him to be sifted by two several persons, as if they had ca­sually faln upon this discourse; but he perceiving their drift, said the onely cause to make him passe the Seas again would be the molestation of the Duke of Bretaigne, and therefore wished them to talk no more thereof. Some of those that had to do in the Treaty of the Truce, went to sup with Lewis at Amiens, a­mongst which the Lord Howard was one; who told him in his ear that if he pleased, he would use some means to make Edward come and recreate himself with him at Amiens, and perchance at Paris. This discourse wounded Lewis his ears; but smiling, and [Page 56] putting a good face upon it, without further answer he fell to wash his hands. The Lord Howard did not notwithstanding for­bear to talk of this with some others, who formerly aware there­of, answered, 'Twas impossible for the King to make any stay in any one place; for such were Charles his insolencies, as did enforce him to wage War. But Howard conceiving them aright, forbare the further pursuit.

Many of Edwards servants were displeased with this Agree­ment, believing he had not considered his Honour therein: One of them, named Lewis de Bretailles a Guascoigner, being with Commi­nes, and demanded in how many Battels Edward had been present, replied, In eight or nine, and that he was victorious in them all, except in this which you have made him lose: for to return to England without fighting or losse, will redound more to his dis­honour then all his former won Battels will do to his honour. Lewis being told of this answer, swore, according to his custom, that this mans mouth must be stopped: he caused him to be sent for to Dinner to him; he made him many offers to draw him to his service; but he not accepting of any, he gave him a thousand Crowns: he promised him to prefer his Brethren who were in France; and he made Commines tell him in private, that if he would endeavour the continuance of the good intelligence and friendship between the two Crowns, to boot with the doing an office worthy of a man of Honour, he should oblige the King of France to reward him. These Artifices did Lewis use. One day after Dinner being come into his chamber, and laughing at Edward for having suffered himself to be caught with presents, he turned himself round, and saw at his back a Guascoigne-Merchant who lived in England, and was come to beg leave for the transporta­tion of certain Gascoigne-Wines without the paying of a certain Impost; he was somewhat out of countenance, perceiving he had heard all he had said: he therefore granted his request, and caused him to be brought to Bourdeaux, where he gave him a good Office in that City, to the end that he might not return for Eng­land; and to that Office added a thousand Franks, by means whereof he might send for his wife and children, and would not suffer him to go himself for them, but made him send his brother. His having been too carelesse of his speech, and his fear lest the Merchant should tell what he had heard, forced this liberality and favour from him against his will. One named Rapines, a servant of the Constables, was come to Amiens before Edward departed thence, with Letters of Credence, at the same time when Mon­sieur de Contay was likewise returned from Charles. His businesse was to complain of his Masters misfortune, who was subject to the misreports of wicked men, whilst the King had no one ser­vant more faithful, nor more affectionate to his service then was he. He made the same offer as formerly had been made in the Constables name, To make the English in their return be set upon by Charles: But being told this was not to be done, since the [Page 57] agreement was concluded, Lewis gave him a Letter written with his own hand to deliver to the Constable, and made him read it before it was sealed up: so as Rapines thought his dispatch was very gracious. He, in this Letter by way of trust, made him a relation of what had past, and added That he was so over-bur­dened with the present affairs, as he stood in need of having by him such a head as was his. A conceit which Rapines did not true­ly understand: but Lewis explaining himself to some of his fa­miliar friends that were about him, said, He stood in need of such a head, but without the body; to the end it might no more deceive him. Assoon as Edward had received the Moneys a­greed upon, he went his way, leaving with Lewis the forenamed Hostages: and although in some of his passage he was way­laid by Charles his people, yet he arrived safely at Callis. It seemed strange to many, that he having past the Seas, with the fairest and most powerful Army that ever King of England did, so small a sum of Money should make him return. Com­mines believes that his avarice to pocket up the Moneys he had received from his people for this Enterprise, was the cause there­of: but he is deceived; he had almost spent it all; nor had he as yet (though afterwards he did) given occasion to be noted of this vice. The true cause was the failing of the foundation of the Enterprise, by the default and negligence of Charles, and the Constable his cozenages. Charles believed that when Edward was once in France, he should be enforced to fight whether he would or no: and that he would entertain Lewis whilst he might do his affairs elsewhere; just as his father Philip did with the Duke of Bedford under Henry the sixth; but the condition of af­fairs was altered. Edward could not make War alone, as did Bedford. The English did then possesse in France all that lay be­tween the River Loire and the Sea, and a great part of Guienne; now scarcely Calais: Henry the sixth was born King, and a King by Succession, having then no Competitiours; Edward a new King, a stranger to the Crown, perturbed with jealousies of the contrary Faction, chiefly of the Earl of Richmond the head there­of; who though at his request he were detained in Bretaigne, yet did he not live free from fear of him. The expences of those times (besides that France did contribute thereunto it self) what was by way of aid given by England, did not much burden the Countrey, which did abound in men and all things else; the now-expences were to be drawn from England onely, which being exhausted by Civil Wars, could not well furnish things needful to so important an Expedition; so as it was great wise­dom in Edward, if failed by the Duke, cheated by the Constable, and allured by Lewis with Moneys, Pensions, and chiefly with the promise of so honourable and advantageous a Match, he did withdraw himself, shunning thereby such snares as the contingen­cies of War might make him fall into, as well at home as a­broad.

[Page 58] Edward was not well landed when Lewis began to rid his hand of what other businesse he had to do; which was the Truce with Charles, and the Constables ruine. The later was now no longer to be evaded: his wife Mary of Savoy, sister to the Queen of France, she who always made up the breaches between her husband and brother-in-law, was dead: and his friends of all sides forsook him, amongst which the Count Dammartin, and Messieurs de Tremo­ville, and Lude, who were very powerful at Court; so as imagi­ning the King would come to S. Quintines, as he did, he withdrew himself from thence, and abandoned that place, not affying in the Garison, which immediately yeelded up the Town. Passing from hence to Varuins, he there received Charles his Ambassadours, who were come to treat of the Truce, and were waited upon by handsom and well armed Troops. There were in the Kings train, besides the English Hostages, many Gentlemen of the same Na­tion who bare them company; and who wondering to see the Ambassadours so well attended, one of them said to Monsieur de Commines, that if the Duke of Burgundy had been accompanied with such men when he came to Calais, Edward would not so easi­ly have made an Agreement. Monsieur de Narbone who was then present, in a jesting manner replied, They were too simple to believe that the Duke of Burgundy wanted such men as those, but that their desire to return into England Six hundred Tun of Wine, and a Pension, had made them believe any thing. This sort of jesting pleased not the English Gentleman, who answer­ed, that it was true that he had heard that the French gybed at the English; but they might gybe so long, that their being gone might not hinder them from returning back again: and although Monsieur de Commines would have smoothed over the businesse, the English-man did notwithstanding complain thereof unto the King, who being of a contrary humour to Narbone, chid him, as detesting his ill-advised indiscretion.

After much Dispute, the Truce was at last concluded for nine yeers; and all who had forfeited their estates by following the con­trary party, were suffered to return and take possession of them, except Messieurs de Commines, de Renti, de Chasse, and de Baldwin a Ba­stard of Burgundy: the Duke, who was inexorable in the behalf of such as had once quitted him, would not be perswaded to suffer them enjoy any such priviledges as others did. The chiefest Ar­ticles of the Truce were, That the King should renounce his League with the Emperour and City of Collen, should slight some forts, that he should proceed against the Constable by way of justice according to the Treaty of Bovines; that he should restore S. Quin­tines to the Duke, and that he should not assist the Duke of Lorrein. When Edw. understood that Charls would not accept of the Truce made by him, he sent Sir Tho. Montgomery to intreat Lewis not to make any league with him save what was answerable to that which was made between them two; and that he should not restore unto him S. Quintines; and that if he were to make War against him, [Page 59] he would crosse the Seas again to fight on Lewis his behalf on two Conditions: the one, That he should satisfie him for the losse he should have in his Customs of Wools at Callis, which being taken from the Commerce of Dutch-men, who were Charles his Sub­jects, were worth unto him Fifty thousand Crowns a yeer; the other, that he should pay half the men which Edward should bring over. But Lewis, thanking him for his offer, said he had already made the same Truce for nine yeers with him, without any diffe­rence save the giving of Letters apart. With this answer did Montgomery return, and together with him the Hostages. But Lewis would never have accepted of this offer, though he had stood in need of it; he thought it ominous to have the English in France; besides, the Commerce with Flanders, and the ancient pretence to France, might haply without much difficulty make Edward joyn again with Charles against them.

The Constable this mean while, sinding himself abandoned by them who foreseeing his ruine absented themselves, he knew not what to resolve upon, nor whither to retire himself: he durst not trust himself in Han, though it were a very strong Fort, and for the like occasions so fortified by him, as it was thought almost im­pregnable, because the Garison thereof were all Burgonians and French: to flee into Germany with Moneys and Jewels would be dangerous: at last, after many consultations privately with him­self, he resolved to have recourse to Charles, to demand safe-Conduct, and under colour of important affairs to get accesse to him, and win his ear. Having got it, he went to Mons with not above Fifteen or Twenty Horse, where, contrary to all faith, he was at Lewis his request detained and sent to Peron. The Duke according to the tie of his Articles was ei­ther to deliver him up unto the King within eight days after he should be his prisoner, or else to see justice done upon him himself: but he detained him longer, cavilling from one day to another for above the space of a moneth; not, out of Charity, but for fear lest when the King should have him, he might break his word with him, and hinder him in the taking of Nanci, which he then besieged; but making his account to take it on such a day, he gave order that on the same day he should be delivered to the Kings Officers, as he was. Perceiving afterwards that he had cast up his accounts amisse, Nanci holding still out, he revoked his direction the ve­ry same day by an expresse Post, who, though he made all possible haste, came three hours after the Constable was delivered up; who being brought to Paris, examined, and out of his own Letters to the King of England and Duke of Bur­gundy convinced of high Treason, he was beheaded in the Greve, a place where malefactors are put to death, paying so at once sufficiently what he ought sundry times to have done for his so many deceits. He was descended from the most illustrious Families of Christendom, the Families of Emperours and Kings; [Page 60] allied to the chiefest Princes; son-in-law to the Duke of Sav [...]y; brother-in-law to the King of France and Duke of Millan; Uncle to the Queen of England: rich in Fee farms, Copie-holds, Rents, and Moneys; but so full of tricks, ambition, perfidiousnesse, and deceit, as nothing but ruine could betide him: whereas, had he served Burgundy and France with such loyalty as he ought to have done, amongst Princes he would have been thought worthy of the title of a Prince, and amongst Captains, been esteemed one of the chiefest of his time. His father had served England, and so had he; but leaving her in the recesse of her Fortune, he be­came one of Charles his favourites, (then Count Carolois) and was not likely to have fallen from thence; but an ambition ha­ving brought him to the eminent place of Constable, the next man to the King in France, Generalissimo of his Forces, and at whose command even Princes did obey; enriched, besides his Office, with Pensions and Commands; there remained nothing more for him to covet, had he not (like sick men) by longing after what was hurtful for him (contaminating his faith and ho­nour) put a period to his life and honour. In this many erre: encrease of honour or riches, causes still a thirsting after more: such examples have been before and since the Constable, and shall be as long as the world endures: for the avarice and ambition of such as come to what they formerly were not, makes them see amisse; and whilst they think to go beyond the period of their Fortunes, thinking to transport it from its natural circle to an imaginary one, (as he who should think to passe from the Sphere of the Moon to that of the Sun; for that, as it is of a larger circumference, so is it of a more elevated and lasting effi­cacie) they in their passage tumble down headlong, and break their necks. Happie is he who possessing the favour of his Prince with temperance, enjoys an alway-permanent Fortune, groun­ded upon the justice and integrity of his own actions; and if he prove not as rich as Croesus, yet need he not to be ashamed of his riches; which if they be but small, the greater signe 'tis of their being well come-by: whilest the Princes favour, the testimony of a good conscience, and the being able to do good to others, are the most glorious and most advantagious riches the world affords. In such extraordinary Fortunes, 'tis better to sympa­thize with Agrippa and Maecenas then with Sejanus.

Edwards Ship had cast Anchor in a place secure from all windes 1475. save such as blew from Bretaigne, which were those alone that were able to split or overwhelm her. He enjoy'd his estate with out the disturbance of forreign enemies by means of the new Treaty with France: Burgundy's enmity did no ways trouble him; for though the desire of subduing Lorrein, and the humour of provoking the Switzers (which cost him his life) had not been predominant in Charles; yet the interest of Flanders (to which Commerce with England was necessary) did secure him. Scotland was in a condition not to be doubted, by reason of the Truce [Page 61] which yet endured, of the quality of her present Government, and her not being stirred up by France, for the most part the first causer of her movings. At home he found himself freed of all such as might have harmed him, who were come to their ends either by the Civil Sword, or by the Hang-man; wherein he was not sparing. Clemency and faith are banished when Kingdoms are in question: and Kingdoms in contention shut the doors up­on all vertues as may cause alteration or suspect. The life of young Henry Earl of Richmond was that alone which did molest him: he could not possibly live content, and attend such plea­sures as he was naturally given unto, so long as this worm did gnaw upon his heart: he was the onely remaining relike of the House of Lancaster, likely enough to deprive him of his quiet and Kingdom, should he not be taken from the world, whereby him­self, his house and children might live secure. He esteemed the good offices he had done the Duke of Bretaigne with the King of France, sufficient to deserve such a favour: he sent unto him three Ambassadours, the chief whereof was Doctor Stillington. They desired the person of the Earl of Richmond in way of Ho­nesty and affection, concealing their cruelty and evil intentions: neither could they proceed otherwise with Francis the [...]econd Duke of Bretaigne, one of the best Princes that Fame celebrated in those times. These made him believe that the King desi [...]ous to abolish the enmity of the two Factions, and quiet such spirits as were affectionate to the House of Lancaster, there was no more fitting means to effect this, then by marrying the Kings eldest daughter to the forenamed Earl, who was Heir to that House. They desired him to lend his helping hand to so good a work, assuring him that as Bretaigne in former times had found no more advantageous nor more faithful friendship then with England, so should she finde it every day more and more, by this obligati­on of delivering up the person of this Prince. The Marriage did not at the first appear unto the Duke to be the cause of this their so fervent desire; it did not correspond with sense; 'twas a favour not to be expected from an enemy; especially since the Earl himself had never been treated withal therein, nor had heard any news thereof before: but they reiterating their de­sires, and adding to their efficacie by a great sum of Gold which they presented him withal, he was perswaded to let him go. But they were not well gone for S. Malo where they intended to take Shipping, when the Duke, looking narrowlier into the bu­sinesse, repented the surrender of him. Polydore saith that Iohn Chenlettes, a very upright Gentleman, and therefore beloved of the Duke, was the cause of this: Argentres says the same; but he says he findes it not in the Chronicles of Bretaigne, nor knows he from whence Polydore Virgil hath it. Chenlettes was in the Countrey when he understood of the Ambassadours coming, and the delivery of the Prince; so as zealous for his Masters ho­nour, he hasted to him to lay before him the blame he was likely [Page 62] to incur by having delivered up the Earl of Richmond (after having received him into his protection) to his chiefest and most cruel enemy: how that the obligations of assisting and giving entertainment one to another was reciprocal amongst Princes; that many of his Predecessors had in the like case been received in England and Flanders, and had tasted the loyalty and noblenesse of others in like manner as Richmond ought to taste his; the which if he should not do, his reputation would thereby receive so much the deeper stain, by how much his past-goodnesse and great­nesse had been to all men known. The taking his Remon­strance in good part, answered, that this his resolution could not redound to his blame, since the Earl was to be the Kings son­in-law, and to be readmitted into all his possessions. Che [...]let re­plied, He was deceived; for that the Ambassadours being sure he never would have delivered him but upon fair terms, had made this pretence lest they might have been gainsay'd: he told him he had given up the Lamb unto the Wolf, and that he might be sure assoon as he was out of Bretaigne he should be mise­rably put to death; since the King of England could not bear him any such affection contrary to his own pretended end: That the King was not so simple as to marry his daughter to an enemy who laid claim unto the Kingdom; nor was it likely he could believe that▪ Affinity would root out Jealousies, but rather encrease, so as it would not make for him to nurse up this Adder in his bo­som. The Duke listned to these reasons, and finding them to be true, commanded Peter Landois his Treasurer, who by chance was then present, to post after the Ambassadours, and (come what come will) to bring back the Earl. He found them ready to im­bark themselves at S. Malo, and the Earl sick of a violent Feaver occasioned by the apprehension of his approaching death: He told them the Duke was surprised by their request; that every honest man would blame him for it; that he could not deliver unto them this Gentleman without a great stain to his reputation; that therefore the Duke desired them they would be pleased he might put such Guards upon him (the which he promised to do) as that he might not go out of that Sanctuary whither by reason of their unadvisednesse he had had recourse (the Earl had taken this Sanctuary by the secret means of Peters servants) or that if he did, he would put him in so safe a place as Edward should have no occasion to fear him. The Ambassadours were not well pleased, after having found him out, and paid for it, to lose both cost and labour. But they durst not complain thereof; the Earls promised imprisonment being of more worth then their charges. And though the King was thereat displeased, yet the belief he gave to the Kings promise freed him of that suspition, which likewise freed him of all other trouble; so as according to his humour he gave himself up to all familiarity; yea, some­times with such as were far unfitting company for him. He in­vited the Maior and Aldermen of London a hunting; he ate and [Page 63] drank with them, and at the same time presented their Wives with Venison and Wine, to the end that they might likewise re­create themselves: the which though it relisht too much of fa­miliarity, yet was it not prejudicial, since used to such as might be serviceable to him. As there is no better means to win upon mens affections then affability; so when it falls into excesse, it causeth such a loathing as quantity of meat causeth to weak-sto­macked people. He was not sparing of himself to any whatso­ever woman, he had three Concubines besides such by whom he had had children: 'twas usually said when men would be bold with him, that, the one of them was delightful, the other wilde or phantastical; the third, holy; who was so termed, because she could not be drawn from forth the Church, but when sent for by him. But natures too much given to the pleasures of Sense, are, if they be offended, bitter in resentment: For example; as he was hunting in Warwick shire in the Park of one Thomas Bur­det who was servant to his Brother the Duke of Clarence, amongst many other Deer, he slew a white Buck which Burdet made much account of, insomuch as (not knowing how otherwise to be reven­ged) he wisht the horns in the Kings belly. This wish was ad­judged Treason; and he, together with his white Buck, lost his head and all that he had.

I must spend the yeer 1476 in the misfortunes of Charles Duke of Burgundy, since England was then unemployed, and his affairs 1476 altered the face of businesse amongst Princes. Charles answerable to the Agreement made with King Lewis, had received S. Quin­tines, Han, Bohaine, and all the Constables moveable goods, toge­ther with the shame of having under trust betrayed him: his brain full of vast designes, bore him to difficult undertakings, which chewed by imaginary confidence, caused in him such evil digestion as we shall see. His first wrath and the first expressions thereof were against Renatus Duke of Lorrein; wherein succeed­ing luckily, as in the taking of Nanci and the rest of that Dutchy, he was blown up to fresh undertakings. Because the Switzers had assaulted Burgundy, and had taken many places under Iames Count de Romont Brother to the Duke of Savoy, whilst he was at the siege of Nuz, he resolved at one and the same time to revenge his own and the others injuries: nor could they pacifie him, though they offered to renounce all other Confederacies; namely, that of France; for the heavens having ordained him to ruine, did obdu­rate him in the wilfulnesse of his obstinate humours; making him deaf to all honourable and advantageous offers. He entred their Countrey with Five thousand fighting men; he took Iver­don; besieged Granson, where Four hundred Switzers of the Can­ton of Berne not able to defend it, retired themselves into the Castle; they yeelded it up, their lives saved; but not observing the Agreement, Eighty of them were hanged, Two hundred drowned, and the rest put to ransom, whilst Eighteen thousand of the same Nation were come in unto their succour. The Duke [Page 64] taking it in disdain that they durst raise their Colours against him set upon them forthwith; he lost the Battel, his Artillery and Baggage, the particulars whereof were by him esteemed at three Millions of Gold, in Tapistry, Silver vessels, and Jewels, which for ostentation and pomps sake he had taken along with him. This was the first of his three mortal misfortunate blowes which (not being accustomed thereto) made him fall sick: this sicknesse changed his constitution and nature; insomuch as where before he drank nothing but water boyled, and used Conserve of Ros [...] to qualifie his natural heat, his melancholy had now so much cooled him, that his Physitians made him drink lusty Wines with out water, and applied Cupping-glasses to his heart to heat hi [...] and excite blood; but, what is most remarkable, his Senses were hereat so weakned, as that his Judgement was disquieted; so as the blowe which would have infused understanding into any one not totally void thereof, did not so to him who was become in capable of it. Gathering therefore greater Forces, he went with Eighty thousand fighting men to besiege Morat a Town not very great, some two leagues distant from Berne, belonging to Cou [...] Romont, but usurped by the Switzers. The Switzers came to the succour thereof with Thirty thousand Foot, and Four thousand Horse, accompanied by the Duke of Lorrein; they gave Battel▪ and though the Dukes Artillery made very great breaches upon their Battalions, yet did they not break not stop thereupon; but making good the empty places, they passed on, cutting in piece very many of his men, and making the rest either run away o [...] drown themselves in the Lake; the Duke with much ado saving himself. In my Travels thorow those Countreys, I have see [...] the relicks of that Victory. If my memory deceive me not, there is upon the brink of the Lake a Chappel, neer unto which lies a great heap of dead mens bones; but there having perished in the Battel Eighteen thousand, and as some will have it Two and twenty thousand, methought those bones, though very ma­ny, were not answerable to so great a number. Here I was like wise told, and the place was shewed me where Charles on horse­back swam over the Lake, and where one of his Footmen fast­ning himself to his Masters horses tail, assoon as he came [...]n shore was by Charles slain for having endangered his drowning, since 'twas sufficient for a horse to swim so far with an armed man upon his back, without the dragging another at his tail. But I meet not with this relation in any History. He retired himself to Rivieres upon the confines of Burgundy, where he lived secretly six weeks, in which time the Duke of Lorrein being come to the Siege of Nanci, the Town was surrendered to him two days before Charles came thither, from whom they had demanded succour, and ex­pected his coming till the last minute. The Duke of Lorrein, who found himself weak, would not contest with him; but leaving him to besiege the Town again, retired himself for aid to the Switzers, from whom he had forthwith what he desired: [Page 65] for King Lewis paid to him Fourty thousand Franks for this end; and many French came Voluntiers to him: with this Army he came to S. Nicholas Two Leagues distant from Nanci, in the cold­est Winter-season that had been known many yeers before. Charles his Army was in a very bad condition, and became yet worse when the Count de Campo Basso, a Neopolitan, and of the Aniovin-Faction, and therefore banished that Kingdom, had re­linquished him, having had intelligence long before with the Duke of Lorrein; but when he would with his men have come over, the Switzers abhorring the assotiation of a Traytor, would not admit of him. Charles seeing his affairs brought to so bad an exigent, (contrary to his custom) listned after the opinion of others: he was advised not to fight, since his men were few and no ways valiant, he not having, upon a true Muster, Twelve hundred good men: they advised him to retire to Pont-Mousson; since the Duke of Lorrein being onely able to victual the Town for a small time, and the Switzers being likely to depart for want of pay, he might with a better choice of men return thi­ther the next Spring. A most excellent counsel, had he embra­ced it; but he would fight. The Conflict was short; a handful of men wearied with a Siege, disheartned by former Defeats; and by the present unadvisednesse the readier now again to be defeated; many of them were cut in pieces, many fled away, and but few of them were saved: the Duke endeavoured to save himself, but was slain in his flight, wounded twice by the Pike and once by the Halberd; he was rifled and left naked, not known by any one save some-while after by a Page of his by certain private marks; for it was impossible to know him by his face. The circumstances of this Defeat are at large set down by Commines and the French Writers, to whom I refer my self. I may perchance touch upon something again in its proper place, whilst returning for the present to our Story, we shall meet with a Tragicall adventure, no lesse strange nor compassionate then what we have but now heard.

The Duke of Clarence, second brother to King Edward, a Prince of greater spirit then did become a brother and a sub­ject, 1477 ended his days in the Tower, leaving it to dispute whether his death were occasioned through his own default, or through the Malice of his enemies: for though he were condemned by ordinary course of Justice, yet was there not any one full fault found in him; so as it was thought there was nothing of Justice in it more then the name; and that Malice was indeed that which took away his life. Three things were of most consideration in this affair: The Kings Suspition, The Queens Hatred and Suspition, and His own Fault, which was not sufficient to have condemned him, had it not been for the former Two. His having rebelled, made Confederacie with the Earl of Warwick; [Page 66] and contracted Alliance with him, to bereave his brother of the Kingdom, were faults which though they were old, and freely forgotten, 'twas feared that his old inclinations, laid aside more in respect of his own concernment then out of reason or love to his brother, might be reassumed by him, and he there­unto provoked by pretence of the Agreement made at Paris, that he should succeed unto the Crown, if Henry the sixth his Heirs should fail, as already they had done. This consideration wounded the Queen to the very soul; she thought that if her husband should die before her, her children should not succeed to their father: she was confirmed in this opinion by a Prophecie I know not how divulged, That G should be the first letter of his name that should succeed Edward; and the Duke of Clarence his name being George, 'twas thought he should be the Butcherer of Edwards sons, which Gloucester afterwards proved to be. With such like equivocations doth the devil delude our simplicity, if it be granted that he knows any thing of what is to come. To these were other reasons added which made the former the more sus­pected: his having pretended to marry Mary the onely daughter to the late Duke of Burgundy; and indeed he had written to that effect to the Dowager Dutchesse who was mother-in-law to the said Mary: but the Queen crossed him therein, and did what in her lay to have her married to her brother the Earl Rivers: so as their distastes and the Kings jealousies were augmented: But the imputations which gave some colour to the justification of this his death, were, That he caused a rumour to be raised among the people that Thomas Burdet was unjustly put to death; That the King used Necromancy and Poyson, to bring such as he hated to their ends; That Edward was a Bastard, and not begotten by the Duke of York; That he had procured many to swear obedience to him and his Heirs, not reserving the due obedience he ought unto his Brother; and That he had pretended to the Crown by vertue of the Contract made with Henry the sixth.

These Accusations being brought into the Parliament, and by 1478 the Parliament judged guilty thereof, he was condemned to die; and chose, as the easiest death, to be drowned in a Butt of Malm­sey. But howsoever, 'twas generally thought that the malice of his enemies, the Queens and her kinreds fears, and the Kings jea­lousie, were the causes of his so miserable end: of the which Ed­ward did afterwards repent, insomuch as when he pardoned the life of any at the importunacie of some one or other, he was wont to say, O my unfortunate brother, that had not any to intercede for him! He left behinde him two children born unto him by the Earl of Warwick daughter; Edward Earl of Warwicks, and Margaret Countesse of Salisbury; both of them born under the like unfor­tunate Constellation; for He lost his head in Henry the sevenths time, She hers, in Henry the eights.

King Lewis, when Charles was dead, thought to make himself ma­ster of those States; believing he could not meet with any obstacle, [Page 67] since all the men of War were almost slain in the three Battels of Granson, Morat, and Nanci: neither had he been deceived, if he had persisted in his resolution of marrying that Princesse to the Dolphine his son; of working upon her Counsellors by gifts, promises, and additions of Honours; and of winning the peo­ples good-will by feeding them with hopes of being well treated: but his thirsting after this Conquest (which to him appeared easie) diverted him from the means of coming by it lawfully, and was the ruine if not of all, yet of his most principal designes. Abbeville was the first City which fell into his hands, but as of right belonging unto him, being one of those which were to be surrendered to him after Charles his death. Han, Bohin, S. Quin­tines, and Peron, out of the same reason, did the like. Arras was by agreement delivered up unto him. He [...]ine, Bullein and Doway yeelded themselves. All this progresse of affairs apper­tained to Picardy. In Burgundy he employed the Prince of Orange (a man of great power in those parts) and Monsieur de Cran with a distinct Army, who in a few days brought the County and Dutchy to his obedience: Neither did he pretend usurpation in this; the Dutchy was the Patrimony of the Crown; given in Fee-farm to Philip the bold, by his father Iohn the second, King of France, upon condition it should revert again unto the Crown in default of Issue male: such Grants not falling (according to the French phrase) unto the Distaff. And he had some preten­ces to the County, though not from the Crown. The Infant Princesse seeing her self thus hardly dealt withal, all her Embas­sies, Supplications and Submissions nothing availing her, she sent a Dispatch into England to shew to Edward what prejudice he suf­fered by having the King of France so neer him, possest of Abbe­ville, Bullein, Hedine, Arras, and other places upon the Sea neer Callice, and in the face of England. But though in all reason he ought to have assisted her, his private interest made him notwith­standing be a Spectator of all those ruines without budging: his Counsellors being almost all of them Pensioners to Lewis, pre­ferred private interest before all reason of State. Edward (though) sent Ambassadours to mediate that no more harm might be done; a very good means certainly, before a Prince hath put on a resolution of War; but as ridiculous as unprofitable without a mans sword in his hand. The hopes of marrying his daughter, the Fifty thousand Crowns which were ready to be paid, and his chief men being won by Pensions, were the obstacles which withstood all good Resolves. Lewis received the Ambas­sadours courteously, and was bountiful to them at their going away; so sent them away without any answer, the which, he said, he would send by Ambassadours of his own, who a good while after were sent with directions to spin out the businesse, upon pretences of having no Instructions; working by this means his own desired ends, and hindering Edward from doing (had he been so disposed) what he ought to have done: and [Page 68] though many free from corruption advised him to the contrary, shewing the damage he thereby received without any hopes of advantage; (for if Lewis had any minde to make the Marriage; he would have sent for the Princesse away, after the first yeer, according to the Treaty sworn at Picquigny, divers yeers being now past, and she not sent for) yet were they not listned unto. Any the least obstacle (to boot with the defence made by the Infant Princesse) would have been sufficient to have made Lewis keep within his own Precincts; and if nothing else, his unwil­lingnesse to see the English in France, would have slackned his proceedings; and though he invited Edward to passe over into Flanders, whilst he busied himself elsewhere, and seemed to be content that the English might win Flanders and Brahant for them­selves; he did it for that he was sure, by reason of the many strong places that were there, they would make but a slowe and costly progresse: and when Edward seemed to accept of this in­vitation, if in stead of such places as he should win in Flanders Lewis would deliver unto him those he had won in Picardy (name­ly Bullein) no more was heard of the businesse. Edward would willingly have assisted the Princesse if she would have married the Earl Rivers brother to his wife; and she needing assistance, would have married him; but the disparity of their conditions would not permit her Counsellors to suffer her so to do: so as Lewis found none that crost his Fortunes, nor she any that would assist her in her misery, which made her conclude the Match with the Archduke Maximilian son to the Emperour Frederick the third, not listning to any other that was propounded to her: not to that of the Dolphine, for that he was but nine yeers old, and she twenty or one and twenty; and for that she hated his father: not to that of Charles Count d'Angoulesme (who was afterward father to Francis the first) because Lewis would not consent there­unto, being jealous of the Princes of the bloods power: not to that of the Prince of Cleve, because she liked him not.

Edward had this mean while prodigiously alter'd his nature: from being affable and liberal, he became austere and a varitious, 1479 to the great wonder and worse satisfaction of his people. The Laws of England grant many things in favour of their Kings (as their penal Laws) which the Kings themselves make no use of, as being too full of rigour. He by vertue of those Laws took such penalties as those that were rich fell into by their not pun­ctual observance of them: and making no difference neither in respect of Blood, Quality, or Title, he put the Kingdom into a great fright, making them believe he would become formidable: for having abated the courage of other men by his Brothers death, there was not any one that durst contradict him. But the greedy heaping up of Money, which he used was so much the more monstrous in him, by how much it was contrary to the constitution of his nature: so as such a change shewed his death to be at hand.

[Page 69] Ambassadours were frequently sent from England to France, 1480 and from France to England: the former, that according to their Obligation, the French might send for the betrothed Princesse; the others, to excuse their delay, laying it upon the Wars of Burgundy and the Low-Countreys, in the which all the principal men of the Kingdom being employed, she could not be sent for in manner becoming the dignity and greatnesse of both the Crowns: so as he who earnestly desires a thing, is by nothing more easily deceived then by the confirmation of new promises; Ed­ward did easily believe, and Lewis made advantage of his falshood, and brought about his ends without contradiction: which had he carried the businesse otherwise, he could not have done. But he who says the English have won more honour by Fighting then by their Treaties, says not amisse; for they are more aptly dis­posed to the former.

At this time did Iames the third reign in Scotland; who com­ing 1481 to the Crown at seven yeers of age, met with lewd educati­on and most villanous corrupters; so as not being wicked of himself, but made so by them, as he grew in yeers, he encreased in his lusts, cruelties and rapine, and rewarding the authors of his Disorders by the sale of Goods belonging to the Church, he purchased the hatred of his Nobility, and of his whole Kingdom. From these his excesses he did not exempt his own Family: he dealt badly with his brother, and incestuously violated his young­est sister: he let slip the opportunity he had to trouble England, it being divided within it self, and was himself vexed by his sub­jects; the worm of conscience not working upon him in the ces­sation of his Rebellions, not yet the fear of such pains as Heaven inflicts for punishment upon incorrigible sinners. Tthese things for what concern'd him: And for what concerned Edward, his jealousies of the Lancastrian Faction, caused their peaceful living together, even from the very beginning of their Reigns, thorow a Truce of Fifteen yeers: but the Truce being now well-nigh expired, and Iames having put one of his brothers to death, and imprisoned the other, which was the Duke of Aubeny, thinking he could not defend himself against his domestick enemies with­out fastning himself to strangers, he was desirous to interest Ed­ward in the conservation of his Dignity and Person. To this purpose he demanded Cicely Edwards second daughter for wife to his son Iames Prince of Scotland; and he obtained it with this Condition, That though the Marriage could not yet be con­summated (both of them being children) Edward should pay down part of the portion; for the repayment of which, in case the Marriage should not go on, he had the chiefest Merchants of Edenborough bound. The King of Scotland thought himself now to be safe by this shadowie Alliance; but the Duke of Au­beny having escaped out of prison by means of a Cord made of linen, and made his Addresses to Lewis; who would not receive him (for he held some secret Intelligence with Iames against [Page 70] Edward) he passed over into England; where having represented the King his brothers general injustice, to make him appear wicked, and his particular injustice to his brothers, to make his wicked­nesse appear unnatural and cruel: he prayed aid of Edward; and his intreaties were made the more efficacious, being accompanied by those of Iames Douglas (who was likewise a banisht man) which moved the King to wage War with him; whereunto he could not have been perswaded, had not King Iames himself given him the occasion.

Lewis, who, having covenanted another Match for the Dolphin, thought Edward could not chuse but be revenged; endeavoured to divert him, by making the King of Scotland engage him in a War; and the King of Scotland perswaded thereunto either by hopes, or Moneys, or both, violated his late-made Affinity and Peace, not regarding the injustice and dishonour of the action, nor yet the danger he put himself into, he being so detested both by God and man, and not able to raise Forces without the assist­ance of his Countrey; yet affying more in France then he had reason to do, he did what of himself he was able, to please Lewis. He sent some Troops to make Inrodes upon the Confines of Eng­land, which did rather provoke then harm the enemy: so as Edward finding himself enforced and offended on the one side, and humbly intreated on the other side, he raised a powerful Army, and sent it into Scotland under the command of his bro­ther the Duke of Gloucester. King Iames had not the like ability to resist as he had to irritate; for being abused by the flatteries of three wicked personages who had drawn upon him the gene­ral hatred of all men, he durst not gather the whole Nobility in­to a Body, lest being united they might take some strange reso­lution against him. Necessity, notwithstanding, constrained him to summon them and raise an Army, not altering though the form of his Government; for mistrusting all the rest, he made use onely of the Counsels of his forenamed flatterers, not call­ing his Nobility to any Counsel or Deliberation: an indignity which they not able to endure, they met together a little after midnight in a Church, where, being perswaded by Archibald Douglas Earl of Angus, they would have the first War made a­gainst these men, as those that were their Countreys most dan­gerous enemies: and had not the wiser sort moderated the more hastie, the King might have run hazard in his own person. The chiefest of them went towards the Court not making any noise, followed onely by as many as might serve to do the businesse. The King was advertised of this Meeting at the same time 'twas made; so as rising up hastily to see what was to be done, he sent Robert Cockeran one of the Triumviri, to make discovery; but be­ing met by them, they detained him, set a Guard upon him, and passed on to the Court, and to the Kings Chamber, seizing with­out any manner of resistance upon all such as were about the King, except Iohn Ramsey for whom the King interceded, and [Page 71] who being very young, was not polluted with their enormities: The rest were led into the Camp, where (the Army crying out that they might be put to death) they were all hanged without any legal proceeding; and not having any Ropes in readinesse for so sudden an execution, each man strove to make offer of his horses halter or reins; and those whose offers were entertained, thought themselves much honoured thereby. This businesse bred such a difference between the King and his subjects, as each of them retired themselves to their own homes, not thinking any longer to defend the Kingdom: and the King, with some few others, did to little purpose shut themselves up in the Castle of Edenborough: for had they been evilly minded towards him, they would have taken him in the Lander, the place where this businesse happened.

The Summer was well advanced before the Duke of Gloucester entred Scotland; he laid siege to the Castle of Berwick defended 1482 by the Earl Bodwel, the Town having yeelded to him without resistance: he would not lose the season by staying there him­self, but environing it with Four thousand fighting men, he pass­ed forwards to Edenborough, not permitting (through the Duke of Aubeney's desires) any harm to be done there; a contrary course to what had been formerly taken: and because it was impossible to treat with King Iames, who did not suffer any one to come into the Castle, he made a publike Proclamation to be made in the chief Market place by Garter King at Arms, that if he would not make good to Edward what under his hand he was by agreement obliged unto; if he did not before September next make satisfaction for the damages and injuries done to England; and did not put the Duke of Aubeny in his former condition without the diminishing of his Possessions, Authority, or Offices, he would put his whole Kingdom to fire and sword. But the King return­ing no Answer, neither by message nor writing, being equally unfit either to give satisfaction or make resistance; the Nobles (who had encamped themselves at Haddington with a great num­ber of men) being abandoned by the King, and not willing to abandon themselves and Countrey, sent Ambassadours to the Duke of Gloucester, offering, for what belonged to them, to effect the Marriage, and requiring the like of him: promising that it should not fail on their sides, if all the Articles agreed upon were not put in execution, and an inviolable Peace for the time to come were not made between the two Kingdoms. To the which Gloucester answered, that the Match was broken by means contrary to the end for which it was made: That he did not know the King his brothers intentions, and whether he was not resolved (as he had good cause) not to think any more of it: That his Instructions were, To demand restitution of the Mo­neys, the which he did, requiring speedy payment: for what concerned the Peace, That it was not to be had, unlesse they would promise to deliver up unto him the Castle of Berwick, or [Page 72] unlesse in case they could not do it, they would oblige themselves not to assist the besieged, nor molest the besiegers, till such time as it were either taken or surrendred. These Demands seemed very hard to the Scots. They answered; The cause why the Marriage was not effected, was by reason of the young couples yeers, not through any default of theirs: That the Moneys could not justly be demanded, the time of repayment being not yet come: That if the security given in for the repayment of them did not suffice, they would give in other: That Berwick was si­tuated upon the very Bound of Scotland, built by the Scots, and by just Title always possessed by them; nor was their claim thereunto the weaker because the English had made themselves Masters of it, since violence doth not prejudice the right of a just ancient, natural and primary possession. But the Duke of Aubeny put an end to all these differences; for Gloucester permitting him to go into the Scotish Camp, and the Lords there promising him that if he would submit himself to the King, they would procure his pardon, and the restitution of all his goods; he was decla­red, under the King, Lord Lieutenant of the Kingdom; and it was resolved (though not without much opposition) that the Castle of Berwick should be surrendred; and a Truce for certain moneths was agreed upon, to the end that the Peace might be treated on without disturbance o [...] hostility; so as the Duke of Gloucester having recovered Berwick One and twenty yeers after Henry the sixth had given it to the Scots, he retired himself to Newcastle, where he expected directions from his brother: who having weighed the concernment of this Match, the Kings de­caying condition, the danger he was in of being deposed (he being hated, and the Duke of Aubeny beloved) he demanded his Moneys, which were forthwith payed him, leaving Scotland to its turmoils, the which though the Duke of Aubeny did sincerely endeavour to quiet, by remitting the King his brother to the plenary possession of his Kingdom, yet could he not reconcile the King unto him. For if the remembrance of injuries be ne­ver to be forgotten by men of perverse natures, good turns are the more easily forgotten: ingratitude being an enemy to all Christian and Moral vertues. King Iames his minde was so con­taminated and depraved, as it would not suffer him to think well of his brother, though the effects demonstrated the contrary; nay, he was likely to have made him follow his other brother, had he not by his friends been advertised thereof, which made him flee into England; from whence (having delivered up to Edward the Castle of Dunbarre) he went to France, where run­ning at Tilt with the Duke of Orleans (who was afterwards Lewis the twelfth) he was unfortunately slain by the splinter of a Lance which wounded him thorow the sight-hole of his Helmet.

Edward had long suffered Lewis to take his advantage not onely 1483 in such parts of the Heir of Burgundy's Countrey as were far [Page 73] distant from him, but even in those which were neare to Callice; permitting him, contrary to all reason of State, to make himself master of Bullein, and other Forts upon the Sea, onely out of the hopes of his Daughters marriage: but growing too late suspici­ous of it, he sent the Lord Howard to France to sift out the truth: who though he saw the solemne receiving of Margaret, Daughter to the late heire of Burgondy, and Maximilian of Austria; and saw her married to the Dolphin in Amboyse, yet when he tooke his leave, Lewis according to his wonted dissimulation, confirmed unto him his former promises, as if a new match contracted with all the Church-Ceremonies and the Bride in the house did not pre­judice the former, so as being returned to England hee truly re­lated the difference of what his Eyes saw and Lewis told him. Lewis had handled this match according to his wonted craft not seeming to be therein obliged to those of Gaunt, who had conclu­ded it maugre their Prince, the Brides Father, and they did it wil­lingly; for taking from him the Counties of Artois, Burgondy, and Carolois, the Counties of Macon, and Auxorres, which they gave in portion to the Dolphin, they made him the lesse able to offend them; they would likewise, if they could, have given him Hai­nault and Namours, not considering that these Provinces in the hands of so great a King were like to forme the chaine of their servitude. But Fortune favoured them beyond all expectation; for this marriage so advantageous for that Kingdome was toge­ther with the Bride, yet a Virgin, not many Yeares after, re­nounced by Charles the eight, that he might take to Wife Anne the Daughter and Heire of Francis Duke of Britaigne, and there­by to possesse himselfe of that Dukedome: and the aforenamed Margaret, borne under an unhappy constellation for matter of Husbands, was in a very short time Widow to three; To Charles who did yet live, and to two others who died; Iohn Prince of Aragon, who lived not many moneths; and Philibert the 8 th Duke of Savoy who within a few Yeares dyed; so as she had no issue by any of them.

Edward was so sensible of this his great abuse as that he resolved on revenge: every one with cheerfulnesse provided for War; the Clergy supply'd in monies what they could not do in person: but whilst hee was taking order for so important an expedition, he fell sick being sodainely struck with a great melancholy (others say of a Surfeit) and knowing he could not live he caused all the Lords to be sent for to him, who by reason of the intended War, were then in great number at Court. He recommended to them the young Princes his Sonnes and together with them Peace; shewing them that being young they would neede good Counsellors, which in the distraction of private contentions would hardly be found; that they having all a relation unto him, some by blood, some by affinity, all by good will and duty, they were to joyne in a re­ciprocall love one towards another, to the end that the con­formity of their mindes might beget the like in their actions, and [Page 74] in their ends, necessarily conducing to the service of an infant King, to the good of the Kingdome, and to the peace and quiet­nesse which he did chiefly desire amongst them; hee put them in minde of the evills caused through civill dissensions; he desired God of his goodnesse that no such might be hereafter, but that this favour was not to be hoped for without the forgiving of past injuries which made him in the name of the same God, and as the last comfort he should receive, desire of them all forgivenesse of any injuries done by him. All that were present wept; and those who bare more rancour one to an other then did the rest, shooke hands in token of their last obedience due unto him even to the last minute of his Life: so as satisfyed with this their outward expression (their inward minds unknowne) he died the ninth of April 1483, in the 41 Yeare of his Life, having Reigned 22 Yeares one month and five dayes: and was buried in a Chappell, built by him at Windsor.

He was a Prince who could not have had his like had he not been vitiated with the contagion of civill factions; the gifts of minde and nature strove for priority in him: He was of all men the hand­somest; and of all fortunate men the most valiant: having in as many Battells as he fought alwayes had the Victory. He had by his Wife three Sonnes and eight Daughters: his third Son dyed an Infant; we shall shortly heare of the compassionable end of the other two. Of his Daughters; Elizabeth was married to Henry the Seventh Cecily to Viscount Wells and after to another, but had issue by neither: Anne, to Thomas Howard Duke of Norfolke, whose children dyed all young. Bridget was a Nun in Dartford; Mary pro­mised to the King of Denmarke, dyed before the Marriage; Mar­garet dyed young. Catharine was married to William Courtney Earle of Devonshire, to whom she bare Henry Marquesse of Exeter, and he had Edward E. of Devonshire, who died without issue in Padua the Yeare 1556; and Elizabeth dyed young. Besides these his legiti­mate children, he left behind, two Bastards, Arthur Plantagenet, Vis­count Lisle, and Elizabeth; Arthur had three Daughters: and of Eli­zabeth is come the L. Lomley.

The end of Edward the Fourths Life.

THE SEVENTH BOOK OF THE CIVILL WARRES OF ENGLAND In the Life of Edward the Fift.

I Now should write the Life of Edward the Fift, Son to the last deceased King, as I have done the Lives of the rest; but he being taken from this World in lesse then three Moneths, by such cruelty, as greater hath not been heard off, I have not whereout to frame a History: in lieu thereof, I will write the Duke of Gloucester his wickednesses, which are such as may raise a doubt, whether cruelty be an habit of Nature in man, or rather a raging fury: since Nature in her operations doth nothing in vaine; and such Beasts as live not by Rapine, kill not other beasts for Preyes sake, as hee to de­voure the Kingdome slew his Nephewes. But considering that there is not any Creature which is not in some sort addicted to this vice, I believe it proceeds from two causes, the one usefull and [Page 76] necessary which is Selfe-defence, and wherein habit consists; the other vaine and harmefull, which is the coveting of superiority (a passion more prevalent in men then in other creatures) and this is fury; whence if the World were void of ambition, or other dif­fering qualities, it is not thereout to be averred that the strongest would not insult upon the weaker, as alwayes they have done: the which being manifest, bruit beasts declaring it by their ex­amples, it is much more proved so to be when we take into consi­deration the inaequality of Fortune and Honour.

Many were the causes of the cruelty whereof we are to treate, since practised in sundry manners; (War not cast into the account) To kill Beasts, to punish Malefactors, are permitted and comman­ded by the rules of Government; but what ariseth from private hatred, is by the Lawes condemned, though through the corrup­tion of affection, or frailty of humour, executed by men. Butchers and Hunters kill cattell, and wild beasts; which should they not do, the beasts would devoure us; and through the great increase of beasts, and their destroying of the ground, wee might be famished: did not the Executioner put a period to the lives of such as are condemn'd, our lives and livelyhoods would lie at the mercy of evill livers. But the enemy which kills his enemy, though, in it selfe considered, the fact be inexcusable, rests yet excused. Sodaine chances, puntillioes of honour, and injuries for which satisfaction is not to be given, do so far incense men, as hu­mane nature may seeme somewhat to Analogize with cruelty; since though it be absolutely to be abhor'd, it is not absolutely con­demned. Now that Richard Duke of Gloucester a Prince by birth, an unkle by nature, and by the Lawes a protectour, should become the Butcher, the hangman, the enemy of Edward the Fifth, and of his Brother, being his Nephewes, is yet somewhat more; which not falling under the capacity of humane fury befell him having disrobed himselfe of humanity and nature. Of all execrable ex­amples he is the onely one without parallel. All cruelties menti­on'd of the Antients are, in comparison of his, meere inventions, not true events. Nature in the framing of such subjects doth usu­ally transgresse her ordinary rules; to put a difference betweene them and others; to the end that having set a marke upon them, wee may the better know how to be aware of them; shee allots them aukward and disproportioned shapes, thereby intimating unto us that being crooked and falsely shaped, their workes are false, and their inclinations crooked. This Richard came into the World with his feet forward, his Mother was cut up, yet out­lived him: shee brought him forth deformed; insomuch as, his brethren being the handsomest and most comely men of that age, he was the most mis-shapen that those times produced. Hee had a cloudy and a despitfull countenance; he was of a low Stature, one of his shoulders was greater then the other; he was malitious, envious, injurious, neither had hee any just proportion, save what was from his Extrinsecall to his Internall, so as if a man would [Page 77] have judged of him by the rules of physiognomy, he could not judge amisse if he judged bad enough. For what remaines, hee was va­liant, advised, bold, couragious; praise-worthy qualities, but not in him: since he made no use of them to good ends, but to make his wickednesse the greater and more efficacious. It is not, as I be­lieve, to be denied that all bad actions spring from two wicked Mothers, Malice, and Ignorance: wicked actions from malice; from ignorance, such as are common to the simpler sort of people: a difference so much the more to be bemoaned, as that malice in­creasing by yeares, and ignorance decreasing, the evill which is caused by the increase of the One, is more detestable, then is the good advantageous which we receive by the decrease of the other: the evill extending it selfe to objects which are infinite, the good confining it selfe to the agent which is an individuall. Had Richards actions taken their source from both these, so as a mixt composi­tion might have beene made of them, they might in some sort have beene tolerable; but being occasioned meerly through malice, they were so abominable, as being augmented not only by processe of time, but by his thirst after Government they ar­ri [...]ed at such a height of wickednesse as was not to be out-done. When his brother died, hee was in the Northerne parts of the Kingdome: it is not knowne whether his desire of usurping the Kingdome sprung up then in him, or whether he was possest with it before. Those who believe him to have beene formerly pos­sest therewith, alledge for their opinion the death of Henry the sixt, and of the Duke of Clarence; accusing him to be both the Promoter and Executioner of the former, since King Edward was never minded to put him to death, which had he been, he might have found other instruments enough, without making use of his brother. They verify this for that hee boasted by meanes of this parricide he had settled the Crowne upon the house of Yorke; for he imagin'd there was no more left of the house of Lancaster; either for that the Earle of Richmond was onely of that house by the mothers side, or else that being out of the Kingdome, and in custody, no account was to be made of him. It is certaine had he not formerly had this designe, he would not have beene the butcher of a King, to settle the succession onely upon Edwards Sonnes; since Edward himselfe dreamed not of it, who was suf­ficiently secure of Henry by his imprisonment, and his having no issue: his feares rose not from him, but from the Earle of Rich­mond. Richard, on the other side feared not the absent Earle, but Henry who was present and had beene King. Should he have kept him alive, to have kill'd him at the same time hee kill'd his Ne­phews, his scandall would have been the greater: and should hee not have kil'd him, hee might have beene re-established. Things which all of them might succeed, his brothers disorders fore­tokening his death to be at hand. 'Tis related, that Edward being dead by night, a certaine man ran presently to a friend of his, who was a servant of Richards, to give him notice of it: who an­swer'd; [Page 78] if Edward was dead, his master Richard would be King: which tis not likely hee would have said, had he not had some inkeling of the designe. In Clarence his Death tis thought that whilst hee seemed to favour him, he wrought all he could under hand that he might die. 'Tis cleare, that when he was condemn­ed he should have procur'd his Pardon, and did not: which cau­sed Edward in vaine afterwards to complaine, that others had such as would intercede for their Lives, but His poore Bro­ther could finde none to mediate for his: so as to meete with the truth, I thinke tis best to judge the worst. The cunning of all other Architects, who might perhaps have omitted some One thing which hee did not, would not, have sufficed to have perfected so difficult a building; rather hee being so excel­lent in doing evill, it had beene a wonder if hee had not done it.

For his Ambition being thereby to be satisfyed as well as his Cruelty (the springs from whence did flow his other vices) should he have refused it, men might have thought the soule of Socrates had beene transmigrated into his body; since that So­crates being naturally given to all vices, abstained from thence meerly out of the Love of vertue; which was not reason suffi­cient to make Him to abstaine from vice, though, being borne a Christian, he might better do it then Socrates: for Evangelicall vertues, as they are more excellent, so do they more incite to well-doing then Morall; but these transmigrations being but fables, and he, if not altogether abandoned by his good Genius, at least not sufficiently admonished thereby, as was Socrates, it is no wonder if he dyed the same that he was borne; who never tooke delight in any thing but in the plotting of mischiefe: nay it had been lesse trouble to Him to have fought against whatsoever well armed enemy, then to have withstood the weakest of his lewd inclinations.

Many were the difficulties which in this businesse were to be o­vercome; the meanes two: Cruelty, and Infamy. Through Cruelty hee was to put his Nephewes to Death, neither was that All: their Sisters were yet to succeede before him; and two o­thers; the Sonne and daughter of the Duke of Clarence; which forced him upon Infamy. To attaine to the uppermost Roonge of the Ladder of Government, he must at one leap get thither from the Nethermost: he being the lowest Roonge, and Eight at the least being before him, besides Bridget the Nun at Dartford. But in wickednesse there is no difficulty which may not be overcome by Him, who having Power and Malice, hath not Honour nor Con­science to restraine him. Hee at first resolved to governe himselfe according to the Fable: the Wolfe could not hope to get the flock into his power, did he nor first possesse himselfe of the Dogges which were its defence. The King before his Death had sent Prince Edward into Wales, to the end that his presence might reduce that people to their duties, which though they were not Rebells, [Page 79] were yet growne to such disobedience as that their Governours and Magistrates were not able to suppresse the great dissensions and Robberies there committed: the disorders of the late Warre had put them so farre out of Tune; that by how much they were farther from the King, they were the like, from Remedy. The Sunne beates not with like force upon the Poles, as it doth upon the Zones which Neighbour upon his beames. A wise foresight. For Wales being very affectionate to the title of their Principality (a memory of their ancient Liberty and Dominion) shewed such obedience at the comming of their Prince, though but a Child, as they had not formerly done to their ancient Magistrates. The King had appointed to him for his Governour, his Uncle, the Earle Rivers, Brother to the Queene, a wise and valiant man; he had likewise given him for his attendants almost none save such as were of Her kindred; to the end that when he should die, shee, by their assistance, might the better preserve her selfe against the Dukes authority and force. A wise foresight too; but which succeeded ill: for this extraordinary preferment, as it made them be hated and envy'd, so was it the cause of their Ruine. The Queene and her Brother Rivers had declared themselves enemies to the Lord Chamberlaine Hastings: the Queene reputing him to be an instrument of her Husbands disorders; and Rivers, for that the King having promised unto him the Governours place of Callice, had recalled his word, to bestow it upon Hastings: so as Edward doubting least these distastes might breed an ill effect in his Sonnes service (though not the very bad one which it did pro­duce) did on his Death-bed make that exhortation to Peace which hath beene sayd; at the which (Rivers, who was gone with the Prince into Wales, not being present) the Marquesse, Dorset Son to the Queene by the first Husband, did in his Unkles behalfe shake hands with Hastings: both parties having the same end in this Act, which was to satisfy the King, but not to make a reall friendship: for Hatred had taken formerly so great a rooting, as there was no place left for true Friend­shippe.

All these things made for Glocesters designes; wherein not like­ly to prosper but by their ruine (since in processe of time 'twas likely they would be equally His enemies) he thought that by set­ing them together by the eares they would undoe one another, and that the one of them being borne downe would make way to the others overthrow. But the sequell shewed; that such fabricks of Government as are grounded on machinations, are for the most part ruinous. And if there were no other proofe of this: to live free from suspition and to secure ones selfe from successive contentions, within the Haven of a quiet life, ought to weigh against whatsoever Ambition or Avarice can produce: since They afford us nothing but injustice, and the more they be practised, the farther are they from God and Nature, whose chiefest Law is the Peoples Safety: and if humane mutability [Page 80] inamour'd on phantasticall opinions hath caused an eare to be lent to such as maliciously and ignorantly have taught the con­trary, consider that the Idea propounded by these Doctours is of such Princes as have come to ill ends, not any one of them, by their rules, having had good successe. I know that this my opi­nion will not be imbraced by Many; it will suffice mee if by a Few, so they be Good: and if any man doe believe the World is not to be governed by Philosophy; let him observe that Usur­pation and Tyranny are the Foldes or Plyes of a more intricate philosophy: and as the First, arising from God and Nature, doth by the meanes of Justice and other vertues leade us to live happily; so the Second procreated by Force and Pride, pro­mise nothing to us but perturbations; Injustice and her attend­ants producing onely such effects as are conformable to them­selves.

The Duke might easily contrive his designe considering the hatred the chiefest Lords bare to the Queenes kindred, so as treating thereof with those that were present, and communicat­ing his minde by writing to those that were absent, hee shewed them, How that the dangers were remedilesse if the Kings tender yeares were to be governed by those people: that all Honours and places of Account would be conferred on them: that Their authority would ecclipse the authority of all other men; especi­ally if the Sonne, resembling his Father, (as by some signes already in him might be imagined he would) should suffer him­selfe to be governed by Them; so as in stead of One King they should have many: that old injuries are not apt to be forgotten: that by the increase of authority remembrance thereof would be increased; and that they would pretend offence if they were not more observed then formerly: that the consideration of the Queenes no so great blood (being onely made worthy of that de­gree, because the King would have it so) had not made them any whit the lesse proud; the rather being come to the height of their presumptions, (while the King should be at their disposall) they would become insufferable: they would cloake their covetous­nesse with the Royall Robe; and the Crowne, which the King wore onely for show, served really to honour Them to the shame of Nobility, and Scorne of the Blood-Royall; and though their Birth and the Lawes did lesse priviledge Them then Others, (there being so many Lords both by Descent and Desert worthyer then They) yet their unlawfull Authority was likely to cause such mischiefe, as the deepest wisdome would not be able to Prevent it, if they were suffered to continue in the same posture they now were in with the King. Whether these perswasions tooke effect as being apparantly usefull, or for that Envy was the cause there­of I know not: The first that were hereunto perswaded, was the Duke of Buckingham and Hastings the Lord Chamberlaine; who, though they were not very great Friends, the likelier were they to joyn in Enmity against the Others.

[Page 81] They resolved to remove them from about the King; if they could finde no other pretence (as none other they had) to de­clare: that being their enemies they could not suffer them to be about His Majesty without apparant danger to their Owne persons. They, this meane while ignorant of their Practises put themselves in order to bring the King up to London: and, to the end that his traine might be answerable to his Regall dignity, they got togither a great many men. Whereat the Duke of Gloucester doubting, that if hee should come so atten­ded on, hee should not without noyse be able to effect his wick­ednesse; hee found meanes whereby to represent unto the Queene, That so great an Assembly of men would be danger­ous: For the King not needing them, it would stirre up jea­lousy in such, who formerly having had some difference with those of Her bloud might believe it to be done against Them: since the King, by reason of his tender Yeares not being like ly to be the Authour of it, it would be attributed to those that were about him; and it would be believed that they did yet retaine the hatred pretended to be washt away at his Fathers death: that her sonne was to meet with no oppositions; for all the Lords strove who should shew him most affection and obedi­ence: so as to appeare armed and in an awfull manner, would, together with the memory of ancient fewdes, raise so great jea­lousies, as those who could not thinke themselves safe, would take up Armes, and disturbe the Peace: the which if at all times it be to be desired, certainly it is chiefely to be coveted in the succession of an Infant King. These reasons seemed good unto the Queene who discovered not the venome thereof. Whereupon shee wrote to her Brother, exhorting him to ca­shire all the armed extraordinary attendants, and that he should come along onely with her sonnes Houshold servants, thereby to shunne the raising of suspition in such, who having had rea­son formerly to hate him, would now have cause to accuse him, as one Seditious and of small Trust. These admonitions wrought the effect which Glocester desired: and so much the rather, for that hee having written with all manner of Submission to the King, and in most affectionate termes of Friendship to Rivers, it wrought so as they tooke their journey without Armes or ex­traordinary Retinew, directing their course towards Northamp­ton; where they were met by Himselfe, Buckingham, and a great many Lords; and pretending they should be incommoda­ted for scarcity of Lodgings if they should keepe all together there; they made the King go twelve miles farther towards London, to Stony-Stratford; but the two Dukes stay [...]d behinde; and under pretence of Honour kept with them Earle Rivers, and Feasted him with such demonstrations of Joy, as, not being u­suall, hee might easily have discovered the deceipt, had hee not beene betrayed by the blind folded good opinion hee had of Himselfe. When he was gone to his Lodging to rest all night, [Page 82] the two Dukes caused the Keyes of the City to be brought to them, to the end that no man might get out: They slept lit­tle, spending the greatest part of the Night in counsell and ad­vise: they rose early, and sent to all the Villages thereabouts, where their servants were billeted, willing them to be ready on Horseback, and sending some to keepe on the way betwixt that and Stony-Stratford, with order to send backe all passen­gers that should goe that way. A strange diligence, which yet wrought no impression in such as observed it: for they be­lieved it to be done that none might come to the King before Themselves. But Rivers was of an other opinion, for if there had beene any reason for it, they should have communicated it to him: after many severall conjectures, hee resolved to go Himselfe and finde out the bottome of the businesse; but no sooner did hee appeare before them, then that picking a quar­rell that hee had an intention to keepe them from the King, and ruine them; the which hee should not be able to effect; not suffering him to reply, but tumultuously interrupting him when hee was about to speake; they committed him to the custody of some of their owne Servants; and hasted to Stony-Stratford, and got thither just as the King was putting foote in stirrup; kneeling downe before him, who cheerefully received them, not knowing their designes: they addressed themselves to Richard Gray, Brother to the Marquesse Dorset, objecting to him that hee together with his Brother and his Unkle, had aspired to the Government of the King and Kingdome, by raising of Divisions, and by bringing under some of the Nobility, that they might destroy the Rest; that the Mar­quesse, to make his insolencies the more feasible had taken out of the Tower of London all the Royall Treasure, and had sent men to Sea, to the end that none might oppose him. Both which were true, but in a contrary sense: it be­ing so ordered by the Counsell, for the Kingdomes service; not his owne. The King having heard the Accusation, shewed how judicious a Prince hee would have beene, had it beene his fortune, to have lived: for not knowing how to excuse the Marquesse, being ignorant, (by reason of his long ab­sence) of what hee had done, hee thought hee might ex­cuse the rest, since they had beene continually about him. So as not giving Richard leave to reply, hee sayd: for what con­cern'd the Marquesse, hee knew not what to say, since hee might be deceived; but as for his Unckle Rivers and his Bro­ther Richard, he was very certaine they could have no hand in any such businesse for that they had alwayes beene in His com­pany. To the which Buckingham replyed; His Majesty was de­ceived; that their designes were not knowne to His Majesty, and that they did not deserve to be excused by so good a Prince. Immediately, in his presence, was the said Richard seiz'd upon, as likewise Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Sir Richard Hawte; and the [Page 83] King, in stead of going forwards, was brought back to Nor­thampton; such of his attendance as Glocester durst not assy in, were removed, and others put in their place; whereat the yong King did complaine and was much greived: having onely the Name of a King, and not being of age to defend Himselfe, much lesse his Kinred and Servants. And that Dissimulation might not be wanting, (though now 'twas needlesse) the Duke of Gloucester, the next day sent a made dish from his Owne Table to the Earle Rivers with a message; that, hee should not be troubled at his restraint, willing him to be of good courage, for very sodainely all things would be to his good liking. How much of this Rivers believed may easily be ima­gined: but baulking the injury, and apprehending worse, he returned thankes for the honour done unto him, desiring the Messenger that hee would carry it to his Nephew, Richard; for that being young, and not accustomed to such accidents as these, he needed the more this favour. This feigned courte­sy was like the lightening which fore-runnes Thunder; for after many change of Prisons, they were brought to Pom­frect, and there beheaded; as in its proper place shall bee told.

The next night with great diligence this newes came to the Queene, who presently guessed at the Dukes designe: shee too late repented the counsell given to her brother to disband his for­ces: shee apparantly saw her owne danger, but much more the danger of the Duke of Yorke, and her Daughters. Shee at the very same houre fled from her Pallace, and tooke Sanctuary in Westminster, and lodged in the Abbey; to the great compassion of such who at that time of the night saw Trunkes, Beds, and other things carried up and downe in the streetes, in such haste and feare, as the servants hindered one another in their ser­vice, not knowing what would become either of their Master or Themselves. The Lord Hastings had received the like adver­tisement, but with a contrary resentment: he rejoyced at the Queenes sufferings, all which were answerable to his wish; but imagined not that Glocester would proceed any farther: for hee having loved King Edward, loved his Children, nor would he for▪ all the World that any harme should have befalne them. Being thus satisfied in his Owne beliefe, he, at the same in­stant, it being past midnight, dispatcht away a Gentleman to the Archbishop of Yorke, Lord Chancellour of England, who found him in his first sleepe: hee would not suffer him to be awaked; but the servants not obeying him, he was brought in, and acquainted him with what had been done to the King, Ri­vers, Gray, and the Kings house-hold; he concealed not the Queenes betaking her selfe to Sanctuary, adding that hee should not be thereat troubled, for all should be well. The Archbi­shop differing in opinion from the Chamberlaine, answered, He knew not what good to hope for from such demeanours. The [Page 84] Gentleman being gone hee rose from bed, made all his Family get up, caused them to Arme themselves, and taking the great Seale along with him, he went unto the Queene: he thought he was come into a Pallace newly pillaged; he saw nothing but confusion, and people justling one another for haste, some carrying in stuffe, some going out to fetch in more; sighes and teares hee met with everywhere. The Queene was set upon the floore, no more now what shee formerly had beene. It added to the immensity of her affliction to see her selfe berea­ved of her eldest Sonne, and other kindred who were her onely stay; to consider that though she were sorely opprest with Pre sent evills, yet was she to expect greater oppressions. Whence it may be gather [...]d that fore-sight is the bitter fruit of most ma­ture wits: a gift which graciously conferr'd for a Reliefe to mankinde, workes a contrary effect: the present imagination forestalleth future evills, and afflicts the apprehension, which ought onely to be caused for what hath already happened: So as it can hardly be decided whether the fore-fight of E­vills through the excellency of judgement, be not a bad effect of a good cause; and whether▪ at this rate, stolidity bee not rather to be chosen then the most refined understand­ing, since such as are dull and stupid suffer onely in the pre­sent Act of their misfortunes. The Chancellour having com­forted the Queene with such reasons as in such desperate oc­casions hopes may suggest, acquainted her with what the Cham­berlaine Hastings had let him know; supposing that Hastings who had beene obliged to the late Edward, would side with his Children and Family: but the Queene loathing to heare that Name, reply'd; hee was in an ertour to believe him to be her friend, who hating her bloud indevour'd the utter extir­pation of it. The Archbishop, not able to perswade her to the contrary, discoursing from the least of dangers to the grea­test that might happen, bad her be assured that if any other King should be crowned then that King which now they had in their hands, they would crowne the Duke of Yorke, who was now in her possession. And that you may bee hereof certaine, Loe Madame (said hee) the Great Seale of Eng­land: his Father, your Husband, gave it mee; I give it you, that you may keepe it for your Sonne; and if for the present I could give you a greater Testimonie of my good will, you should have it. Which being said hee left the Seale with her, and departed about breake of day, not weighing of what importance the thing was that hee had done, and how prejudiciall it might be to him. But being come home and seeing the Thames, out at his Window, full of Boates, which were fill'd with Glocesters Servants who observed if any went by water towards Sanctuary, and hearing that there was part­taking, and tumults raised in the City, Lords and other people appearing in sundry Assemblies Armed; hee bethought him­selfe [Page 85] that if any extravagant courses should be taken, his de­livery of the Great Seale to any whosoever without the Kings Command, since it was delivered to his custody, might re­dound much to his dammage, whilst the Queene could reape no advantage thereby; whereupon he privately sent for it againe, and when he had it, carried it according to custome, openly in the sight of all men.

This meane while commotions in the City did still continue, it being believed that the proceedings at Northampton were not onely caused for what concerned Rivers, but out of a designe to hinder the Coronation: and troubles had beene likely to have ensued, had not the Lord Chamberlaine assured them that those Lords were imprisoned for certaine Conspiracies plot ted against the Dukes of Glocester and Buckingham, as would be made appeare by due processe of Law. That no doubt was to be made of the Duke of Glocester since he had alwayes con­tinued constantly faithfull to the King: but that, to suspect it, might be of dangerous consequence, if they would not lay downe their Armes, with the same facility they had taken them up. This Testimony quieted the greatest part of the people, especially when they understood the King was comming, wait­ed upon by the Duke his Unkle with all manner of respect: as also that amongst Rivers his carriages certaine Barrells full of Armes were found: which though it were not believed by the wiser sort, yet Gloucesters followers insisting much upon it, it raised doubts in some who otherwise would not have beene perswaded to it. For nothing is more prejudicall to Truth, then Falshood boldly affirmed, with Confidence and Ob­stinacy.

The King was met by the Lord Major of London, the Sheriffes and Aldermen, all in Scarlet, accompanied with five hundred Citizens on horse-back cloathed all in purple. Gloucester shew­ed such appearance of Reverence and Love to the King his Nephew, as hee changed their former suspicions, into a great good liking of him: insomuch as when a Protectour was to be chosen, as usually is done in the minority of Kings, hee alone, without any manner of contradiction, was named there­unto; not onely as he was Unkle, and the next Prince of the Bloud; but as he that was loyall, most loving, and of all others the fittest for a charge of such weight. Many were forthwith removed from their Offices; whereof the Archbishop of Yorke was one of the first, not without sharpe reproofe for having left the Great Seale with the Queene. Doctor Russell, Bishop of Lincolne, a man of Laudable conditions succeeded him in his place. Earle Hastings was continued in his place of Lord Cham­berlaine. All which were businesses of small importance not being those which troubled Gloucester: and though to have won the Peoples good will and obtained the Protectours place was the right way to his designes; yet were they not things hee [Page 86] could have missed of, the peoples good opinion depending up­on his naturall dissembling, and the Protectours place upon his neerenesse of Bloud Royall, and consequently without Compe­titour. That which most troubled him was, that he could not ridde his hands of the One brother without the Other: for if the Elder brother were made away, the Duke of Yorke was to suc­ceed. In this it was that he was to use his best wits; for the Queene being jealous of him, and the Duke of Yorke being in a place not to be violated, he could not come by him but by De­ceipt and Sacriledge. But it was no hard matter for him to o­vercome these difficulties: a fraudulent perswasion eased him of the trouble of seeking out Other meanes. He at the Counsell Table spoke against the Queen in these or the like words, That there was no malice could parallel hers: since to work the Kings Counsell into an ill opinion with the World, she together with the Duke and Princesses had taken Sanctuary, as if there were apparant cause of doubt: that it matter'd not much what be­came of Her or her Daughters; the King might live without them, but not well without his brother, whose company was ab­solutely necessary for His Majesty; That the people, upon so unexpected a resolution, could make no other conjecture, but that she was doubtlesly in danger, and her Enemies possest of all manner of power, since her owne quality and her childrens were not sufficient to secure her, unlesse she should flie to Sanctu­ary; a refuge usually for guilty people, and if at any time for such as were innocent, onely for such as wanted other meanes of protection. That she seemed by Enemies to meane none but the Privy Counsell, since they were highest in Authority. That to believe their intentions were to oppresse the Queene, the Duke of Yorke, and the Ladies of the blood Royall, so as they were inforced to take Sanctuary, was an injury not to be tolera­ted: That whosoever should approve of such scandalous pro­ceedings, did not love the King; neither did he believe that they did disapprove thereof, who would not helpe to remedy it: since the King himselfe, being a Child, could not do it. That it behooved them to looke to it, who were chosen to looke to the preservation of the Kingdome, and the Kings health; nor were they disengaged from the many duties they were bound to by the payment of One debt. That the consideration of health was the chiefe thing they ought to have in regard; and rather the health of the mind then the health of the Body: for the former being lost, the latter could not long continue; for that sad­nesse of mind did dry up the Bones, especially in a young Prince, who if he should not be streightned in honest recreations, much­lesse, from Honest Company. And though it fits not Kings to have companions, yet no conversation being to be had without some sort of Equality, to whom did it more properly belong then to an onely Brother? And if this alone argument might not be of force as it ought, hee propounded this consideration [Page 87] unto their wisdomes; that the Coronation could not be pro­ceeded in without scandall, whilst the Duke of Yorke (who was to have the first place next to the King in that great solemnity) should not be there but in a Sanctuary, a shelter for Delinquents; affording matter to the common people to judge according to their Ignorance, and to Forreigne Princes according to the ap­pearance of false supposalls; which must needs redound to the shame and prejudice of them all: to their shame; for that it was not to be credited, that the onely brother of a King should for his safeties sake be necessitated to make use of the priviledge of Sanctuary without just occasion; To their prejudice; for that, give this necessity for granted, great troubles were likely to arise thereout, it not being likely that there would want those who would willingly lay hold on any occasion to disturbe the State: That, in his opinion, some one should be sent to the Queene, whom shee did not mistrust, yet such a one as, would be zealous of the honour of the King and Counsell; who might rectify her, and let her know what wrong she did unto them all: To the King, by bereaving him of his Brother: To the coun­sell, by her thus tacitely accusing them of an evill that never fell into their thoughts: To the Kingdome; by kindling a fire which was not sodainely to be quenched. And that if this should not prevaile, the Duke of Yorke should by Regall power be ta­ken from Prison and brought to the King his brother; where being more made of then with Her, he might reproach unto her her mistrust; and how she had beene the occasion of making o­thers do the like: her malignant and sottish suspicions tending to the Counsells shame, the Kingdomes Harme, and her Owne Confusion. He propounded the Cardinall Archbishop of Yorke, for this enterprise, remitting himselfe to their pleasure, if they should not approve of him, from the which hee profest hee would not dissent. They all commended his opinion, and agreed with him, that, if he could not be had from thence, inconve­niences might ensue. But the Cardinall having first taken the imployment upon him, was, together with as many Ecclesiasti­call persons as were there present, of a contrary opinion, for as much as concern'd his being taken from the Sanctuary by force: alleadging, the Sanctity of the place was inviolable, as well by the many reiterated grants of Popes and Kings, as for five hundred Yeares before (as is testifyed by tradition) it was by St. Peter, assisted therein by Angels, miraculously consecrated. He hoped, however, it would be needlesse, the Queene in rea­son being to deliver him up willingly; the which if shee should not doe, the fault was neither to be attributed to Her, nor Him: Not to Him; for he would not be failing in his duty: Not to Her; shee being therein to be excus'd in respect of her Motherly affection, and the weakenesse of her Sex. But Buckingham, not approving these circumspections, swore: The Queene knew well enough she had no occasion of feare; that her feares were [Page 88] meerely fictitious, and of malice; and if she would be believed because her kinred were hated as they well deserved to be, shee should distinguish betweene those who were of kin to Her, and who were the like to the Bloud Royall. That her kindred had afforded reason wherefore to be hated, as shee her selfe had likewise done through her malignity; but in her extending it to the Duke of Yorke, the distribution was too large and odious. That he likewise had the honour to be a kin unto him, neither would hee in his zeale to his service give way to any one, no not unto his Mother: since she desired to keepe him, not with­out danger and scandall in the Sanctuary, to please her malici­ous humour, whereas hee counselled he should be taine from thence, to the end that all scandalls being removed, the danger of his health might be prevented, and other mens troubles. He discourst upon the use and abuse of Sanctuaries, all the Counsell joyning with him in opinion: whereupon it was re­solved; that if the Cardinall could not prevaile with his Per­swasions, hee should be taken from her by Force. The which being agreed upon they went to the Starre-Chamber to expect there, as in the neerest place, what would be the issue. The Cardinall accompained by a great many Lords, either for that the Protectour would not trust a businesse of such weight to One onely man, or that the comming of so many might make the Queene perceive it was not He alone that desired the deli­very of her Sonne; and that, if shee should refuse, they might Force him from Her as was resolved. The Cardinalls words were these; He was sent by the Protectour, and the Pri­vy Counsell to let her know how much her detaining of the Duke of Yorke in that place was of scandall to the publque, and of Dislike to the King his Brother, it being an action which must needs produce very bad effects. That the King was grieved at it, and the Counsell offended, as if one brother did live in danger, and could not be preserved but by the others life. That hee desired to have the Duke, so to set him at Liberty, and free him from that Prison (for in respect of him it could be ac­counted no better) to bring him to his Brother, where hee might live answerable to his Condition and Degree. By deli­vering him up shee would give peace unto the Kingdome, satis­faction to the Counsell, and Advantage to those shee desired to helpe (meaning her Brother, her Sonne and the other Pri­soners) to boot with the Honour and Content the King would thereby receive; and Comfort to the Duke of Yorkes selfe, who in respect of health could be nowhere better then with his Brother: their Yeares and Nature had appropriated them one for the other; and their Loves would be the more con­firmed, by their being brought up Together, as well at their Booke as at their Sports. Here the Cardinall paused a while expecting what answer the Queene would make; who, repeat­ing some things he had said, confest; There was no better com­pany [Page 89] nor more pleasing friendship then that of Brothers, as is shewne by nature in her Ordinations, by her recommending them in their most tender Yeares to the care of motherly af­fection: the which, as it deceiveth not, so doth it not spare for any thing in the performance of that duty. That all Other loves did couple men togither Onely as farre as conduced to selfe interest; Brotherly love shared in selfe-interest, Friend­ship and Bloud: This conjunction of love was that which was to be desired betweene her two Sonnes the King, and Duke of Yorke: but as their Age did not render them capable of such conversation as was ripened by Yeares, so was it likewise the cause why the Mothers care, more passionate and plyable to their tender humours, was of all others the most necessary and proper for them; and though the King, being the first borne, stood not so much in need thereof; having beene taken from her Government ever since his going into Wales, yet the Duke of Yorke did of necessity require it; who being a Child late­ly sick, now upon the mending hand, and in danger of a Re­lapse, there was none knew so well how to Governe him as shee his Mother, who, as best knowing his disposition, was fittest for that imployment. The Cardinall approved of all shee said, so as shee would take upon her the care of them Both in a place Befitting Her and Them: hee sayd the Coun­sell would be herewithall satisfied: Nay; they would Begge it of her: but in a Sanctuary this was not good; it stood not with the Kings Honour, Her owne, nor the Counsells: This parting of the brothers, the one of them kept in Sanctuary, af­forded occasion to the People of strange and scandalous con­jectures: All this might be remedied if shee would returne to Court; which if shee would not do, shee might thinke it the same thing to have the Duke of Yorke taken Now from her, as it was to have the Prince (now King) taken out of her charge, when he went into Wales. The Queene replyed the case is much differing: the Prince was then well in Health; the Duke but about to be so, and in danger of falling ill againe: be­sides if the one were taken From her the other was left with her: Shee wondred much the Protectour did so much desire to Have him, since being not well and that possibly he might die, he should, in reason, Refuse to take him though he were Offer'd, so to avoide the suspitions his death might cause: Shee likewise thought it strange that his being in Sanctuary should be ascribed to the Puntillioes of Honour, as if he might not with his Honour be in a safe place and with his Mother, with whom doubtlesse it was best for him to be: As concerning Her going from Thence she would not forgoe the place, least she might fall into the like danger that Others had done: she wisht it had pleased God that They had been with Her, where they might have been safer then she should be with Them. The Car­dinall was not pleased with this discourse: and thinking it [Page 90] might be dangerous for him to heare the Protectour accus'd (e­specially in what he did not believe) and he not take notice of it, thought to stop her mouth by saying it could not be but she must needs know some Reason why she should believe them to be in danger since she did so confidently affirme it. The Queen, finding the Cardinalls drift, answered: she too well knew a rea­son, but not according to His sence: That she was more then certaine that their intended ruine was not occasion'd out of those reasons which He pretended she knew. He perceiving she was somewhat offended, and desirous to make her believe he had said nothing with an ill intention reply'd; He hoped that when the businesse should be well debated those Lords would so well ju­stifie themselves that there should be no occasion of feare: and for what concern'd Her Royall person, there neither was, nor was there to be any manner of danger. 'Twould argue great simplicity to believe either the One or the Other, reply'd the Queene: for if the fault of those who were imprisoned were on­ly that wherein she shared as deep as They, her fault consist­ing in her being Mother to the King, as Theirs in being a Kin to him, (the only reason why they were hated) it was impossible for them to justify themselves; and 'twas more impossible that their enemies should love Her the Originall of their Hatred, and hate Them who were but the Appendices: so as their fault being such and their imprisonment caused onely for being al­ly'd to Her, and consequently to the King, their ruine was un­avoidable; for Nature could not undo what she had done, nor, contrary to her order, annull the relation that was betweene Them, Her, and the King. For what remained; she was resol­ved not to quit the Sanctuary; and to keep her sonne There, till she saw how the current of businesses would go: and her feares were much increased by this their great desire of having him There. The Cardinals reply was; That others had the very like feare of Her whilst she detained him in her custody, for that she might send him into some part beyond the Seas, and no man know where: he therefore wisht her to know that the common opinion was, that the Sanctuary was no place of priviledge for Him, he wanting Arbitrement, and will to demand it, as well as Fault whereby to make it necessary for him: so as the ta­king of him from thence by Force (which would ensue if she would not willingly deliver him) would be no violation to the place, for that the Protectour his Uncle who most entirely loved him, was resolved to have him away before he might be conveigh­ed from thence by others. Is then his Uncles love so great (re­ply'd the Queene) as that he apprehends nothing but that he should escape his hands? Shee affirmed for a truth that she never had any thought of sending him elsewhere: not but that she would willingly have done it, had she knowne any place of more safety, but for that she thought no place could be so se­cure as the Sanctuary; having never heard of any so diabo­licall [Page 91] a Tyrant as thought it lawfull to violate it: That children were not capable thereof in respect of their want of Will or Fault, was an opinion as erroneous as Hellish; Innocents be­ing thereby denied the benefit granted to Theeves and Mur­therers: Did he deny the Danger, and pretend it to be Fained? She prayd God the Event might not manifest it; which should it do, all remedies would come too late and be of no use: That for what concerned shame, it belongeth to those who unjust­ly do it, not to those who undeservedly suffer it. To affirme that since Princes do not disport themselves but with children of their Owne Condition and Blood, it was requisite the King should have his Brother, and that if he should be denied he had cause enough to take him away by Force, was a simple reason to allow of Sacriledge: who ever saw that young Prin­ces did not more willingly play with their Inferiours then with their Equalls? since they seldome or never meete with their Equalls, and if ever, but for a short time: If children nobly borne and others too, oftentimes were not admitted to disport themselves with Princes; and that Princes should never play but with such as were every way their Equalls, Few or None of them would know what belongs to play. Comming then to the causes of violating Sanctuaries, shee said they were most False. For let all be granted that could be alleadged, as want of Yeares to Demand it, and will to Desire it; together with their contraries, to wit the faculty of Choyce and Will to Leave it: there was no cause why he should be tane from thence against Her will: For being by Nature and the Laws voyd of electi­on, hee was subject to his Mothers arbitrement: whereupon nothing wherewith shee was trusted, being to be taken from her under the Priviledge of Sanctuary, much lesse her Sonne, which was the only cause of her flying thither: That if this was not sufficient, it might suffice that she was his Guardian: The Laws of England allow unto the Mothers the Guardianship of such as hold nothing by Knights service: so as having demanded Sanctuary for her selfe, she had done it likewise for her Ward, which being by the Laws committed to Her charge was not to be taken from her: for he not being able to demand it for Him­selfe, it was Her duty to demand it for him; since the Laws deliver over the care of the Person before the oversight of goods; goods serving for the use of the person, and therefore admini­stred unto by Guardians: she could alleadge examples enough of this, but her Own example might serve the turne: This was not the first time she had taken Sanctuary: when the King her Husband was banisht and driven out of the Country she being great with childe, had recourse to Sanctuary, and was there brought to bed of the (now) King, who was There safe: she wisht it might please God his Royall Palace might prove as free from danger to him now that he did Reigne, as was that place then, although an Enemy King did Reigne; who might have made use [Page 92] of such suppositions as Now were made use of, but did not: so as being warranted by the Lawes of the Land, which, together with the Lawes of Nature, gave unto her the oversight of her children, and by the Divine Law, which did priviledge Sanctuaries, and the Sanctuary her Sonne; she was resolved, since the Eldest was out of her power, to keep the Younger: for if the unckle had Both of them, and both of them should chance to miscarry, he might the easilier pretend unto the Crown; notwithstanding his Neeces were between him and home; the which afforded her just occasion of Feare: for since the Lawes inhibite the Guardi­anship of a Ward to such as are Next Heires, though but to a small Revenew, how much more when a Kingdome is the in­heritance? The Cardinall, perceiving her to wax Hot, and like­ly to say more then he would have her, answered; Hee was not come to argue with her; that he demanded the Duke of Yorke from her; whom if shee would deliver up to him, and the rest of the Lords that were there present, he would pawne his owne Body and Soule for the Dukes safety: if shee would not do this, he would be gon; seeing her fixt in her beliefe that all others (her selfe excepted) wanted either Wit or Loyalty: Wit; by her thinking them such fooles, as not perceiving the Protectours intentions, they should suffer themselves to be abu­sed: Loyalty; for that if they were conscious of any such inten­tion in him, they should be very wicked to serve him as a meanes whereby to effect so great a Treason. These words did much perplex the Queen, weighing with her selfe the diverse hazards she ran, whether she Delivered him, or did not deliver him. By Delivering him, she considered the Danger he together with his brother was to run: in Not delivering him, two things present­ed themselves unto her minde: the one, Force, that assoon as the Cardinall should be gon, the Protectour would come in per­son and take him away: she wanted Time to provide for this: Many things were required in sending of him elsewhere, none of all which were likely to succeed, she not having thought there­of before: she knew not whether to send him; she had not appointed people to conduct him; she had not time enough to keep the secret undiscover'd, and him unintercepted: The o­ther; she might be Deceived in her suspicions: whowsoever it would be more disadvantageous to her, to suffer him be taken from her by Force, then willingly to surrender him: she did not doubt the Cardinalls good intentions, not yet Theirs that were with him: She was sure they were not corrupted, but not sure but that they might be deceived: Her appearing to believe in them, would Oblige them: So as, taking the little Duke by the hand she said: she was not so ill advised as to mistrust their Fidelity or Wisdome: she would give a testimony of it; being sure she should not be deceived unlesse they should through the malice of others be deceived: the which if it should so happen, her Sor­row would be render'd incapable of Comfort, the Kingdomes [Page 93] Ruine remediles, and she should have just cause to complaine of Them: That, not withstanding whatsoever objection, she was sure she might keep her son in the Sanctuary free from all vio­lence; but as she doubted not but that her blood was so hated by some, as if they thought they had any share therein, they would open their veines, and let it out: so was she most certain the thirst of Government knew no kindred: for if brothers had not been spared, much lesse would Nephews escape: That the lives of her deare children depended the One upon the Other: If the One were safe, Both were safe: That notwithstanding her unfortunate fore-knowledge of thus much, shee resolved to resigne One of them into Their hands, which was as much as if she should resigne Both of them to them, that she might at all times redemand them of Them; both before God and man: She knew that for what concern'd Them, they would render her a very good account, she being not ignorant of their wisdom and and fidelity: but that this was not sufficient; that Force and Re­solution was requisite, if need should require: whereof they had no lack, nor yet Others upon the like occasion: but if they should doubt of this, she desired them to leave her son with Her; conjuring them by the trust the King her Husband had in them, and for what shee at the present trusted them with­all, that they should not thinke her too unnecessarily Time­rous upon this occasion, but rather believe themselves to be too Credulous and Confident: ‘Then tourning to her Sonne: Farewell, said shee, my sweet Sonne; the Lord be thy Pro­tectour; let me kisse thee before I leave thee, least I never kisse thee more.’ Having kissed him, and blessed him, shee Weeping turned Her backe, leaving Him in their custody, who when Hee saw his Mother quit Him, burst forth a Weeping.

He was presently brought to the Starre-Chamber, where he was with much longing expected by his Uncle. He tooke him in his Armes with the like affection as doth the Wolfe the Lamb. He welcomed him with Words and Kisses, wherewith he arti­ficially disguised his intended Treason; he led him to his bro­ther, who was lodged in the Bishops house neere Pauls; from whence with great Pompe they were brought to the Tower, whence they never came forth. Some thought the Duke of Buckingham was not onely an Assister, but the chiefe Agent in this businesse, having written concerning it to the Duke of Glou­cester at the instant of King Edwards Death: but those who knew him were of an other opinion; that Buckingham knew nothing of it till after Glocester had gotten both his Nephews into his custody; who then discovered himselfe to those he most confided in; chiefly to Buckingham: for winning Him to side with him he needed not to feare what ever Other forces: so as to winne Him, was to winne the Prize. For if He should have op­posed him, all the rest would have followed his colours; so [Page 94] just a withstanding of so wicked an endeavour being sufficient, at the least Nodde, to draw the whole Kingdome after it. The reason which caused Buckingham to side with the Protectour, was; that hee had offended the King in imprisoning his Kin­dred, so as hee had no reason to hope for safety. For should they be put to Death, it were an injury the King in like­lihood would never forget, but would be ready to revenge when Hee should be of Yeeres: and if they should be set at liberty, their Authority was likely to be so great, as hee might despaire of Life. The Protectour had provided him­selfe of a Guard; for businesses of this nature are not hand­led without Praecaution, and Jealousies. He armed himselfe whilst no man thought of it, and trusted the mannaging of his affaires to none but such whose fortunes did totally depend upon Him. Trust in blameable actions is constantly Inconstant. He set Spies about Buckingham, thinking it impossible he should be equally wicked with Him, not having the like Designes; and was resolved, if hee should finde him Faulty, to be his immediate ruine. He made use of Buckinghams most professed friends; and no wonder if they were Traitors, since the Con­formity of evill Inclinations had caused the friendship betweene Them and their Master; a thing not without danger amongst such men; the least shadow of suspition being sufficient to make either rob other of their Lives. The secrets of Friendship are not tasted by such, who have their tastes contaminated by the bitternesse of Ambitious interests. Yet had not Buckingham joyned herein with him, unlesse upon very advantageous con­ditions; for when he obliged himselfe to make Gloucester King, Gloucester obliged himselfe to take the Dukes daughter in mar­riage to His onely Sonne, promising him to boote with this the Earldome of Hartford, pretended unto by him, as his Inhe­ritance: the which being denied him by the late King, was the first cause of this his so lewd resolution, thereby revenging himselfe upon his Children. He moreover of his owne free mo­tion, promised him a great part of the Treasure left by Ed­ward, together with a very large proportion of the Wardrobe he had left to furnish his House withall. These things being agreed upon, they erected a New Counsell, compounded of the Chiefest, to treat of things appertaining to the Coronation; to the end that they and the people might be entertained with a beliefe thereof: and to the same end, they commanded such Lords as were absent from the City, to come to London, and assist at the Solemnity. They on the other side, with a Coun­sell compacted out of their Owne Followers, treated of the meanes how to bring the Protectour to the Crowne: So as whilst the Cardinall of Canterbury, the Archbishop of Yorke, the Bishop of Ely, the Lord Stanley, the Lord Hastings, and others, did busie themselves how by a not un-necessary cere­mony to Establish a naturally Lawfull King, They treated [Page 95] how to depose him, and by wicked treason to establish in his place an Unlawfull Tyrant for King. The first counsell was composed of Many of the Best ranke; the second of Few, and those of the Worst condition. But his dealings not being to be penetrated into by all, people began to murmure, although they could not guesse at the reall mischiefe intended. 'Twas impossible that from so many circumstances and vaine delayes, as were by This Counsell propounded unto the Other, jealousies should not arise, as usually they doe from things done out of time, and without occasion.

To this was added, the taking from the Tower all the Kings servants, whose places were supplyed by the Protectours Houshold-servants; and if any one desired to see the King, he was in private wisht the contrary, for the Protectour would have no man see him, save such as He sent: So as the King was not onely left Solitary, and destitute of all manner of Company; but likewise of all Magnificence, and Regall Splendour: both which were conveighed over to the House and Person of the Protectour. Amongst those who were admitted into the Se­cret Councell there was one Catesby, a man very well skilled in the Lawes of the Land: this man being employed by the Lord Chamberlaine, in all his affaires, and by his favour advanced in the Court, had wonne such credit with all men, especially in Leicestershire, where the said Lord was very powerfull, as nothing was done there without Him: so as being a creature of his, and by his meanes in a faire way of advancement, the Chamberlaine thought hee would not faile to advertise him of any thing of moment should be done in That councell, espe­cially of any thing that might be prejudiciall to Him. But gra­titude, disdaining to associate with one who together with his Conscience had renounced his Loyalty, and all other duties, forsooke him; and in place thereof stept in Ingratitude, which acquitted him from discharging the debt hee ought to his Be­nefactour; which was the originall of all the ensuing evils. For Stanley, doubting this Cabinet Counsell, had endeavoured to crosse it, by the favour and assistance of many, who likewise began to feare it; had not the Chamberlaine, upon conference had with him therein, secured him, relying upon Catesbyes fi­delity. The Protectour did naturally love the Chamberlaine, hee having alwaies beene his friend, and one from whom hee had received friendship, in the King his Brothers time: nor had hee resolved to ruine him, had hee not feared, that if hee should discover his secrets unto him, hee would have with­stood them. Hee therefore will'd Catesby to use his utmost en­deavour to draw him over to their side. But Catesby either did it not at all, being likely to reape advantage by his downfall; or if hee did it, gave the Protectour so sinister an account, as changing his Love into Hatred, hee resolved to have his life; yet treating him with his wonted confidence, he thereout got [Page 96] two advantages. Hee made him Slower in putting on such resolutions as hee might have done against him, and Hee the better brought about his Owne ends to the Others ruine, whilst hee least thought of it. Insomuch as the Chamberlaine having acquainted Catesby with the jealousies which this Counsell had raised in many, thinking to worke out of him some assurance, hee did not onely give him no satisfaction, but hee perswaded the Protectour to dispatch him out of the way as soone as might be, as if his life were pernicious to his designes. An advice well taken by Richard, though not given out of any zeale to His service, as it seemed to be; but that by his death hee might enter into the plenary authority, which the Chamberlaine solely had in his Countrey. The Protectour not needing any insti­gation to doe mischiefe, that hee might be rid of him, came on the thirteenth of Iune, three houres before Noone into the Counsell, where they loytered away the time in discourse about the Coronation, the day whereof drew neere. Hee at his first entrance civilly saluted all the Lords that were there, excusing himselfe for his comming so late; and passing from one discourse to another, hee desired the Bishop of Ely to send for a dish of Strawberries from his Garden at Holborne, saying hee had never eaten better. The Bishop taking it for a great favour, sent pre­sently for them, whilst hee soone after rising up desired them to dispence with his absence for a while; and within lesse then an houre returned so full of anger and bitternesse as made them all amazed. Being set downe, with angry eyes, and frowning looke, and biting his lippes, hee for a good while said nothing: at last hee asked them, what punishment they deserved who had plotted His death, notwithstanding that hee was next in Blood to the King, and by Office, His and the Kingdomes Protectour? This question startled the Counsell, not know­ing by whom it was intended, though each ones Conscience told him it was not by Him. The Chamberlaine seeing them all hold their peace, and thinking it behooved him by reason of his familiarity to breake the Ice, said, They deserved to be punished as Traitors, no man or condition whatsoever excep­ted. The which the rest agreeing unto, the Protectour said, It was his brothers wife (disdaining to call her Queen) and others with her: whereat those who favoured her were troubled. But the Chamberlaine, who feared some friends of his might have been concerned, was overjoy'd when hee heard the Queene named: hee was not, though, well pleased that the Protectour had not acquainted him with it; since their imprisonment and death (which was that very day to ensue, and whereat hee was glad) was not resolved on without his consent: little thought he to be himselfe that very houre beheaded. The Protectour continuing his complaint, unbutton'd his left sleeve, and stripping it up to the elbow, shewed a fleshlesse dry arme, appearing to be nothing but skinne and bone, saying, that the cruelty of [Page 97] the Queene and of Shores wife, who was her counsellour, and co­adjudresse in that wickednesse, had thus spoiled and bewitched him. The Lords who knew his arme had never been other then what it was, imagined presently this calumny was invented to some wicked end: they knew the Queene to be too wise to thinke upon so foolish an action; and if shee should have any such thought, it was not likely shee should make use of Shores wife, the woman of all the world she hated most, as being by the King her husband doated on, even to his death. The Cham­berlaine had been long in love with this woman; but his Respect unto the King, as his Master; and his Truth unto him, as his Friend, had mortified his passion; but when the King was dead, hee tooke her home unto him; so as the Protectour not knowing any other invention wherewithall to lay him low, pitcht upon this; and the Chamberlaine thinking it behooved him to speake, since hee had made the first answer, said: If it were true, they were both worthy to be severely punished; believing that if this imputation should be tried according to Law and the course of Justice, it would vanish of it selfe, and not need his assistance. But the Protectour, who in the present af­faires had no regard either to Justice or Law, answered with an angry countenance: that hee stood upon Ifs and Ands; but that he told him it was true, and that hee would make it good upon his body Traytor that he was: then giving a great blow with his hand upon the Table (which was the appointed signe for those that waited without) Treason, Treason, was heard from without, the doore was forced open and the chamber was instantly full of armed men; one of which making a great blow at the Lord Stanleys head, had cleft him to the teeth, had not hee (perceiving it comming) falne underneath the Table; yet fell hee not so soone but that hee was therewithall wounded, and the blood ranne downe about his eares. 'Twas thought the Protectour, not finding any objection whereby to put him to death, had taken this order, to the end hee might be thought to be casually slaine, in that confusion. The meere shadow of Shores wife was sufficient to move the many for what concerned the Chamberlaine: whom he arrested by the name of Traytor; and being by him in all humblenesse demanded whether hee spoke to Him, or no? Yes, to Thee traytor, replied he. With what face the Authour of this treachery could give this title to the party betrayed, would not be a discourse much out of pur­pose, since the world abounds in so many of the like. Being in this manner arrested, the Protectour swore by Saint Paul hee would not dine before he saw him dead: so as haste being to be made, for the houre of dinner drew nigh [...], and the Protectour was too religious to breake Such an oath, the Chamberlaine was forced to make a short confession to the first Priest could be found, for the usuall forme would prove too long, and being led from the Chappell to a greene Court, he had his head strucke [Page 98] off, and was afterwards buried at Windsor, neere to King Edwards Tombe. The rest of the Councell, who in this uproare were kept lockt up in the Chamber, were conveighed into severall pla­ces, being reputed by the Protectour to be averse to his designes, and more particularly the Lord Stanley.

A miraculous presage of this mis-fortune is related; by which, (if it be true) is seene what care the Heavens have over Us, advertising us by dreames of imminent dangers, which might be shunn'd, if, together with them, we were endued with the spirit of Ioseph, or Daniel, to interpret them. The night preceding this mischance the Lord Stanley dream'd that a wilde Poare had wounded both Him and the Chamberlaine in the head, so as the blood ranne downe both their shoulders: whereupon a­waking hee thought this wilde Boare must be the Protectour; the Wounds and Blood some imminent danger of their lives: in this affright hee forthwith arose, and sent to acquaint the Cham­berlaine with his dreame, (who was fast asleepe) resolving to be instantly gone (it being but a little past midnight) so that in the morning hee might be so farre from thence, as to be in safety: hee advised him to doe the like, to the end that their danger being alike, their safeties might be so too. The Chamberlaine was not subject to melancholly, and therefore not superstitious; so as laughing at the message he answered the messenger: that he wondered his Master should give beliefe to such follies; hee bade him tell him from Him, that Dreames were Dreames, and suppose they were to be allowed as foretellers of future evils, they were so uncertaine, as they might no lesse harme then helpe. Who could assure him that the danger that was to be feared might not consist as well in their Flight, as in their Tarrying? and if as they fled away they should be taken, and brought backe (as might very well happen) would it not afford the wilde Boare an occasion of wounding them with his Tuskes? for their flight could not but be imputed to an evill conscience, and to some faults, if not committed, yet intended: Hee de­sired him therefore to appease himselfe, and feare nothing, for there was no danger: and if there were any, they would rather be met withall by running away (as he had said) then by Tar­rying: that he was as sure of the man he doubted (meaning the Protectour,) as of his owne Hand. The Gentleman returned with this answer; thereby making his Master forgoe his former resolution; with lesse harme to himselfe who Feared so much, then to the Chamberlaine that was so Confident. Many things were observed before his death: as he rode towards the Tower, his horse stumbled twice or thrice under him even almost to the endangering of a fall: A very vulgar observation; for if all stum­bling horses should presage misfortune, the number of those who should perish would be very great. As hee was making himselfe ready to goe thither, a Gentleman of good quality came to him, who was purposely sent by the Protectour, to perswade him [Page 99] to come in case hee should not intend it: this man seeing him tarry to speake with a Priest, (a friend of his) as he was upon the way, fearing least hee might come too late, hastned him, telling him the time passed, and that as yet he needed not a Priest: knowing that within two houres hee would have need of one. Being come to the Tower, he met a Pursuivant neere the place where hee was beheaded, and calling to mind that hee had met him in the very same place, whilst, being prisoner by procurement of the Earle Rivers, he much doubted his life: he asked him whether hee did remember that hee had met him in that place, in a time when hee was in great danger? the Pursui­vant answered, Yes; praising God that the authour of his affli­ction got not much thereby, and that hee suffered no harme at all. Thou wouldst say more (replied the Chamberlaine) if thou knewst as much as I know, (meaning that that very day Earle Rivers was to lose his head.) I was never so afraid, as then: matters are well amended: mine enemies are now in danger, as I was then; as ere long thou shalt heare: and I more joyfull, and more secure then ever. Oh the poorenesse of our confidence! which ignorant of what is to come, takes one thing for another, and doth not thinke it selfe deceived. Hee apprehended Death, when hee was to Live; and was confident of Life, when he was to Lose it. The Chamberlaine was apt to flatter himselfe, and to be mistaken. Those who are given to Pleasures, are com­monly free from Suspicion, and from believing what them­selves would not doe. And if hee concurred to the evils that befell Rivers, it was not in him either Malice or Treason, ha­ving alwaies openly Profest himselfe to be his enemy; nay had he imagined that his death would be cause of the like to the sonnes of his Master King Edward, hee would have ransom'd them from death, not onely by preserving Rivers alive, but with his Owne Blood: for his favouring them cost him both his Blood and Life; the impossibility of alienating him from them, was that which made the Protectour resolve his death; the for­mer affection he bare unto him being cancell'd by Ambition and Cruelty: affections which at all times did superabound in him. I observe, that of all his plots and windings about, there were onely two that can be said to savour of Wit: his perswading the Queene to make her brother lay downe his Armes, that so hee might seize on him unarmed; and his making the Cardinall and the rest believe, that his desire of having the Duke of Yorke, was an effect of Charity and Love. In other things the art hee used was of no availment; it was as soon Discovered as Used: so as if he had not wonne the reputation hee had by Valour, which made him to be feared; by the priviledge of his Blood; and by Buckinghams favour; hee assuredly had effected nothing by his Cunning.

It behoved him to finde out some colour of Justice whereby to make good the Chamberlaines precipitated death: not know­ing [Page 100] how to do it otherwise; after dinner he sent for some of the chiefest Citizens to the Tower. Before they came, hee and Buckingham had put on two old rusty Armours, fitter for Ruf­fians then men of their quality; for he thought, should they have put on handsome Armes it might have beene imagined that time and commodity must have gone to their so going, whereas the rusty ill-shaped Armes would argue a surpisall, which being discovered inforced them to make use of what came first to hand. Being come he told them that the Cham­berlaine with some others had that very day indevour'd to kill them both as they were in Counsell, whereof they could not guesse the Cause nor Designe: that he came to know of this Treason a little before Dinner, so as they had no time to Arme themselves otherwise then as they saw: that God had protect­ed them by turning upon the Authors of this evill, the mis­chiefe they intended to Them: that hee had sent for them, to the end that being informed of the Truth of the businesse, they might informe others. There was none so simple but knew how the businesse went: but being circumspect through Feare, they went their wayes not making any Reply, or further In­quiry.

The Protectour having put off his Armour, sent a Herauld into the City, to publish a Proclamation, the contents where­of were: That Baron Hastings Lord Chamberlaine, accom­panied with some other Conspiratours had an intention to kill him the Protectour, and the Duke of Buckingham that very day as they sate at Counsell, that so hee might usurpe the Government of the King and Kingdome: hoping that when these two Princes should be dead there would be none that would oppose him. But because this bare Narration without Witnesse, or other circumstances, was not likely to worke any great effect, hee aggravated it with complaints no wayes relating to the matter in hand: That hee had beene an evill Counsellour to the late King: that hee had perswaded him to many things contrary to his Honour and the good of the Kingdome: that by his example hee had given him occasion to debauch himselfe, particularly with Shores Wife; who as shee was partaker of all his secret Counsells, so was shee a com­plice in this abominable Treason: that the last night (which was his last) hee lay with her; so that it was no wonder if having lived ill, hee dyed ill; that the sodaine Justice done upon him was by Order from the King, and his faithfull Counsell, hee having deserved it; and to the end that His complices might bee prevented from daring to raise a danger­ous insurrection to set him at liberty: the which being wise­ly foreseene was the onely meanes, by Gods Providence, to restore the Kingdome to its former tranquillitie: It is to be observed that there was not much above two houres space be­tweene his Execution and the Publishing of the Proclamati­on; [Page 101] so as the contents thereof being Long, well dictated, and fairely written out in Parchment, every one knew it must needes be written before hee was put to Death, the interim of time betweene the Execution and Publication not being sufficient to write it out, much lesse so Handsomely to digest the matter, though to the Swiftnesse of hand had beene ad­ded the Readiest witte: The which occasioned diversity of discourse, whereof some said it was written by the Spirit of Prophecy. But the Protectour having accused Shores Wife as an Accessary and an Adviser, sent to her House and made her be plundered of all shee had, not out of Avarice but Ma­lice; and that such a demonstration might make the false­hood seeme the more likely, and the imputation the more probable, shee was committed to Prison, and examined by the Counsell, where shee answered so well for her selfe as not the least likelyhood appearing whereby to make her guil­ty of what shee was accused, they fell upon her dishonest and scandalous course of living, the onely thing indeed where­in shee was faulty: the which would have beene winked at in any other, by the Protectour, and imputed to the frail­ty of Nature: but to exercise his cruelty upon Her, hee was contented to bee held an Enemy to Incontinency. Shee was delivered over to the Bishop to doe Publique Pennance in the Cathedrall Church, the which shee did the next Sunday mor­ning, being led by way of Procession, with a white Sheet about her, with a Wax Taper in her hand, and the Crosse borne before her: In which action though shee were destitute of all manner of Ornament, yet shee appeared so lovely and handsomely behaved, as her blushes adding to her Beauty, all the lookers on did not onely blame the severity, but were taken with her comelinesse, which was the cause as well of Their Compassion, as of her Ignominy: and if any one hate­ing her past Life, was contented to see her punisht, yet did they not praise it, as not proceeding from the Justice of an upright Judge, but from the Malice and Cruelty of a Passio­nate and Unjust Tyrant. Shee was well borne, and civilly brought up; her ruine was her being unequally Married: not that her Husband was not of good esteeme amongst the Ci­tizens, and according to his quality well to live: but for that shee being of riper Yeares then hee, the love which useth to be betweene equalls was not betweene them; so as it was not hard for the King to winne Her; Hee being Handsome, Lovely, and from whom Preferment and Respect (things much coveted by young Woemen) was to be hoped for. The King being Dead, the Chamberlaine got possession of her: shee was yet alive when Sir Thomas More wrote this History, but so much altered as it could not be said shee had beene hand­some; though in her youth shee wanted nothing of Beauty, but a little more Stature. Her outward gifts though very ex­cellent [Page 102] were out donne by the inward gifts of her Minde, which are much more esteemed when accompanied with a handsome Body. Shee had a Quick wit, was of a cheerefull Humour, Prompt, Facetious, and Eloquent; borne to doe Good, not Harme to any one: Shee obliged many who being falne from the Kings good Opinion, were, for her sake, received againe into favour: Shee caused confiscated Goods to be re­stored to many, without any manner of Avarice: shee was more desirous to oblige others, then to enrich her selfe; more to Do good turnes then to Receive them: Her Ambition was to be esteemed, and well thought of: Shee was alwayes af­fable, never insolent. All of them conditions abundantly to be praised, but by which her fortune received no reliefe: for being first reduc'd to Poverty, and then to Old Age, her beauty lost, and her good turnes Forgotten, she begg'd of those, who, if they had not formerly begg'd of Her, would have been more beg­gers then shee.

The Protectour had given Order that on the same day where­on the Chamberlaine was beheaded at London, the Earle of Rivers, and Lord Gray, the one brother, the other sonne to the Queene, (and brother, by the Mothers side to the King) should lose their heads at Pontefract: the two Knights that were seised on together with them at Northampton, bare them company in their punishment. The execution was done in pre­sence of Sir Richard Ratcliffe, a favourite of the Protectours, and one that partooke of his designes: who being naturally wicked, and knowne by him to be so, hee thought he could not trust the managing of this businesse to one more wick­ed, and consequently more faithfull then he. Hee made them be brought out of Prison, and being exposed to publike view as Traitors they were beheaded without any other manner of Justice. He would not suffer them to speake, least their inno­cency being made knowne, and commiserated, might make the Author thereof more odious. These being ridde out of the way, as likewise the Chamberlaine; and Stanley being hurt and a Prisoner, there remained no further obstacle; every man looking to himselfe, not troubling themselves with other mens affaires. And say there had beene other rubbes, they would have come out of time; the designe being to be effected be­fore they could be prepared to hinder it: and though there was neither pretence, nor least appearance thereof, every sha­dow or colour would serve the turne; for force if it be not able to make things be believed, it is sufficient to make Be­liefe be Fained. 'Tis dangerous for an unarmed man to dispute, and worse to give the lie to one that is in the posture of strik­ing. But as the successe of things cannot bee represented upon a Theater without the concourse of severall personages requisite to the composure of the Story; so did it behove him to make use of many others besides the above named, to [Page 103] the weaving of this Treason. Amongst the rest Sir Edmund Shaw, Lord Major of London, his brother Iohn Shaw, and Pin­ker, Provinciall of the Augustine Friers, were some: the first to draw the City to the Protectours will, and to suppresse tu­mults; a very fit personage for this purpose, whose vanity did aspire to greatnesse, though by what so ever precipitious way, and whose ambition for the like cause did not detest the most enormous misdeed: the second and third Doctours of Divi­nity, and by the people esteemed famous Preachers; chosen to give Authority and Fervour, as is usuall in such like acti­ons: for such men pretending integrity of Profession, and mind­ing nothing lesse, are the best meanes to seduce and irritate the People. But had not the feare men stood in of the Protectour been of more force then their preaching, little progresse would have been made in the businesse; for by their endeavours they had raised so Universall a hatred against them, that from the estimation they formerly were in, they fell into such a Detesta­tion, as Doctour Shaw dyed for grief. The knot of this busi­nesse lay in finding out a meanes to exclude the heires of Ed­ward the Fourth: and though he made no great account of the Duke of Clarence his heires, yet did he not altogether contemne them, though they were but young, without or Friends or Favour. The pretences found out to this purpose were two: the first, that King Edward and the Duke of Clarence were both of them the issue of Adultery: that they were not sonnes to the Duke of Yorke, whose onely legitimate heire the Protectour was. The second; that Edwards children were not only Bastards, as Children of a bastard, but as borne in an illegitimate Mar­riage; he having, before hee married their Mother, engaged himselfe, by word to the Lady Lucy, who if she did not make good her claime, when shee was interrogated thereupon, it was for feare; so as the Dutchesse of Yorke Mother to them all three, layd it afterwards to Edwards conscience: therefore such Marriages being illegitimate before God, did exclude all Chil­dren therein begotten, from all pretences due to the lawfull Heires. I write not the Particulars of this Matrimonall dispute, because they have beene sufficiently spoken of in the Life of Edward the Fourth, whereunto I referre the Reader. These pretences were to be to Preachers the subject of their Sermons, especially to Shaw, the introducer of them; and from the be­ginning partaker of the Counsell: the Augustine Fryer, was afterwards imployed therein; both of them behaving them­selves in it with so bare-faced flattery as they nauseated the eares of their auditors. And because the First of these two points was out of measure scandalous, the whole House of Yorke be­ing thereby injured, and the Protectours Mother in particu­lar defamed; they resolved not to Treate thereof in downe­right termes, but by way of circumspection, as if it should seeme to be done out of a feare of offending the Protectour. [Page 104] In the second point they were not mealy-mouth'd, but did at large expatiate themselves. Shaw Preached at Pauls▪ Crosse ta­king his Text out of the Wisdome of Solomon: Spuria vitula­mina non agent radices altas. The bastard slippes shall take no deepe rooting. Whereupon hee discoursed amply, it being a subject plentifull in Examples, Sentences, and Apophthegmes taken out of both Holy and Profane writ; and seconded by the agreeing diversity of Fathers, Philosophers and Poets: He shewed Gods blessings to such as proceeded from lawfull Ma­trimony; his Curses to such as were Adulterously begotten, the usurpation of Goods belonging to the lawfully begotten being an abomination in his Eyes: that therefore God would replant the lawfully begotten, and roote out the contrary. Here falling upon the praises of Richard Duke of Yorke, hee made a long Panegyrick; repeating his Titles to the Crowne, confirmed by Parliament, and declared King after the Death of Henry the sixt; that the now Protectour was his onely le­gitimate Heire, as the onely issue discended from him; King Edward and the Duke of Clarence, being by such as knew the secret passages of the House, not esteemed His: that they resembled Others who were very well knowne, more then Him; and did likewise so farre differ from him in Vertue, as they could not discend from Him: That there was no dis­pute to be made of Edwards Sonnes, they being the Issue of a Marriage contracted whilst the Lady Lucy His First and True Wife was alive: so as the Protectour was the onely Legimate of-spring of that house, in whom might easily be discern'd his Fathers manners, Image, and Valour: that there­fore he was onely to be looked upon: as he on whom the Laws by Nature, and the Heavens by Grace had conferred all their favours.

The further Order herein taken was; that when Shaw should be entred into this Encomium, the Protectour should appeare; to the end that the People, hearing these things said at the instant of his arrivall, might thinke Shaw inspired by the Holy Ghost, and might cry up Richard King: but he com­ming somewhat late, and the Preacher being past on to some other matter, hee quitted it at His appearing, turning disor­derly and from the purpose, to what he had formerly said: This (said he) is that Noble Prince, the mirrour of Cheval­ry; this is hee that naturally represents the noble Duke his Father as well in the Lineaments of his Minde as Counte­nance: this is his very Figure, his true stampe, his undoubt­ed Image, his full Resemblance; whose memory will never die so long as this man lives. Had hee who saies Vox Popu­li, Vox Dei, the Peoples voyce is Gods voyce, seene how husht all the Auditory was, hee would have said The Peoples silence is Gods silence: for being amazed to heare such bold and shamelesse impudence, they stood like so many Statues: [Page 105] in so great a concourse of People no one Voyce or Gesture of applause was heard or seene either for Protectour or Preach­er, their conceived hopes were rendered vaine; so as both of them being utterly out of Countenance the one returned much confused to his Palace, the other very Resolute to his House, where understanding by his friends how exceeding­ly Hee was blamed, Hee, a few dayes after Died for meere shame.

The Protectour for all this, ceased not to pursue his in­tent, being resolved, come what would come, to effect His desire. Audacity, Importunacy and Violence might effect that which Fraud, Calumny and Perswasion could not: so as ha­ving put the Chamberlaine to death on the Thirteenth of Iuly, and indeavored three or foure dayes after by Doctor Shaw's Preaching to seduce the People, on the one and Twentieth of the same Moneth hee sent the Duke of Buckingham, ac­compained by many Lords and Gentlemen, to the Major and Aldermen of London, with whom were likewise the Common Counsell of the City commanded purposely to attend. Where (being a very well spoken man) hee made a long Narrati­on of the last Kings Actions, thereby to make his memory odious, and his Children incapable of succession. Hee said, Hee was come to propound unto them a weighty businesse, and of inestimable advantage to the whole Kingdome, and every Member thereof; the which conteined in it the secu­rity of their Lives, their Wives Honesty, and the safety of their Goods, which till that time had beene subject to so many Robberies, Taxes, and Impositions; which being im­posed without necessity, there was no hope of ever seeing an end of them: the ablest men amongst them were most subject to these miseries, as better endowed by Fortune then were the rest: and because these grievances were not sufficient to satisfy Avarice, great summes of Money were raised un­der Title of Benevolence: the Title taking from both the Name and Nature, that not being given with Good Will, which being not in the power of the Giver to withstand, was given by violence: the Good Will remaining onely in the King, in His Desiring it, Receiving it, and thereby in­riching his Coffers: things which though they were all in­sufferable, yet might they bee indured, were they not come to that height as that Impositions past on to Punishments Punishments to Ransomes, deniall of the Benevolence to Contempt of the Lawes, such contempt to Treason, which was the Trap-hole whereinto did fall the Lives and Lively­hoods of the impoverished and evilly treated Subject: so as so long and exemplary a Patience was not longer to bee in­dured. Hee instanced in the Names of sundry that had come by Sinister ends, that their Goods might bee seised on: hee called the Auditors to witnesse; not any one of them being [Page 106] there, who had not had some feeling of these proceedings ei­ther in themselves or their friends. That plots had not been wanting to endanger their Lives and Goods: little things had beene made great; meere Chimeras, and imaginations, though in themselves vaine, were made capable of Pretence: none was so poorely spirited or void of sence, but might invent some; any superficiall colour being sufficient to ruine the People. Then falling upon discourse of the late Warres, he shewed how his accesse unto the Crowne was through much blood: That hee came to it before his time; for during Hen­ry the Sixt his Life Hee had no pretence thereunto: The very imputation of being of the contrary faction was enough to make a rich Man a begger: Great were the number of those that were impoverished; the one halfe of the King­dome at least being then Lancastrians. Hee bad them consi­der how long the Warre indured; which if it were deplor­able betweene two severall Nations, and in a forreigne Coun­trey, how much more miserable was it at Home, where the Sonne should be found to be against the Father, one Bro­ther against Another, friends becomming Enemies? Hee for­got not to urge his flight into Flanders when hee had lost the Kingdome: and how many Mens lives his retorne cost, as well of those who adhered to Him, as of His opposers. Hee called to minde the many fought Battells, the cruelty used in Victories, the desolations of Cities, and Provinces; the Slaughters of so many of the Nobility, which were not for number and Valour to give way to whatsoever Empire, and which was not to be regained but in a long revolution of time: more blood being spent in a short time to lose them­selves, then was lost in so many Yeares for the winning of France: That they had beene but little bettered by Peace; rich Men not being secure of their Lives and Goods: an a­varitious Tyrant, neither trusting nor loving one that had Power and Meanes: not trusting nor loving His Brother, he put him to a miserable Death. For what concerned Woe­mens reputation, it never had a more insnaring Enemy, or Persecutor: since not contented to have deceived the Lady Lucy with promise of Marriage, and to have taken away the Wife of Shore, a Man of such esteeme; (and here, though from the purpose, Hee fell to praise Shore, to cap­tivate the good will of his fellow Citizens) hee never cast his Eye upon Woman in his Life, that hee desired not to enjoy; not regarding either the feare of God, nor his Owne nor other mens Honour: trampling the Laws under foote, and those of Friendship and Blood; whilst a Prince, who is the Father of his Subjects, should abstaine from so do­ing, as from Incest; his Women Subjects being his Daugh­ters: Hence proceeded the Earle of Warwickes distastes; the illegitimate Marriage (if Marriage it might be called) with [Page 107] a Widdow full of Children; and the renewing of a Civill Warre the cause of so many evills: and if reputation (which is for its owne sake to be desired) were not the chiefe Or­nament of Woemen, the establishing of Families, and of more worth then all Worldly Treasure; hee ought to reverence it, if not as the generall duty of All Princes (to whom it is not permitted to usurpe what is another Mans, much lesse his Honour, the chiefest of all possessions) yet as his owne Pe­culiar duty; being Obliged to the noble City of London the Metropolitan of so great a Kingdome, for that shee had taken part with the House of Yorke, assisted it in so many Warres with Expence, Blood and Danger; and not to repay it with Ingratitude, rendring evill for good, shame for Honour; and charging himselfe with an ignominy neither to be cancelled in this World, nor forgotten in the World to come, without the extraordinary mercy of God, but was to be punished with like punishment as Tyranny, Lust and Ingratitude. But it was not to be wondred if Hee were such a Man; Hee was like to little Rivulets, which deriving themselves from Ditches and Marsh-grounds are thicke and muddy: since not being of the House of Yorke, Hee could not partake of the worth thereof; his actions shewing Hee discended from some low and stinking originall. That therefore they were to praise God, who dry­ing up the Puddle, had given them a Spring, which, issuing from its undefiled Fountaine, would not onely water with his favours such as had deserved well of His House, but would make them bud forth by the opulency of his rewards. That Hee was sorry Hee could not fully expresse Himselfe upon this occasion; since the Dutchesse of Yorkes reputation was there­in concerned, as well Mother to the Protectour (whom hee feared to offend) as to King Edward: but necessity had en­forced him to say more then willingly Hee would have done. He referr'd himselfe therein to what the Preacher had said the preceding Sabbath day at Pauls▪ Crosse; whose integrity was not to be contradicted, hee being a Messenger of the Word of God, so wise, intelligent, and indowed with so much worth, as it would not suffer him to say any thing (especi­ally upon such an occasion and in such a place) which was not certaine truth: that great was the efficacy of truth, which had opened his Mouth, formerly shut up by the way of cir­cumspection: that Hee had fully layd open the claime which the Protectour Duke of Gloucester had to the Crowne; since Edwards Children being illegitimate, as the issue of an unlaw­full Marriage, the Kingdome fell to him: the which being maturely considered, and therewithall the Valour and Worth of so gallant a Prince; the Nobility and Commons, especially them of the Northerne parts, being resolved not to be governed by Bastards, they had resolved humbly to Petition Him that He would vouchsafe to take upon Him the Government of the [Page 108] Kingdome, which by Nature, and by the Lawes belonged unto Him. For his part he knew not whether he would Accept of it, or no; for being free from all manner of Ambition, and suf­ficiently acquainted with the troubles of Government, he was affraid he would refuse it. Howsoever the necessity of the King­dome being great, King Edwards Children not onely excluded by the Lawes, but very Young, hee hoped that the threats of the holy Scripture, (Woe be to the Kingdome, whose King is a Child) would move him to condescend to the generall suppli­cation of the State; which needing a Prince of mature age, who might be Wise, and of Experience, would never cease to call upon him till they were heard in what they desired: That he had taken upon him the charge of delivering the Petition, but considering it might be the more graciously accepted if the Citizens of London would joyne with him therein, hee was come to intreat them that weighing the Publique good, and their owne particular ad­vantage, they would be the first that might doe it; and that their forwardnesse herein would make him more favour the City then all the preceding Princes had done.

His Speech being ended, and expecting when the people, ap­plauding his discourse, should cry up Richard King, he was amazed to finde the contrary: he found he was abused in his hopes of the Lord Majors having prepared them for it; so as drawing neere unto the Major he asked him what might be the reason of the peoples so great Reservednesse and silence? who not knowing what to say, answered hee thought his Grace was not well understood: whereupon, believing that that might be the cause of their silence, and that his eloquence might yet pre­vaile with them, he in a lowder tone and in other words repea­ted all he had said before; whereat all that heard him marvel­led; for he could not have spoken better though he had penned it, and gotten it without Booke. But for all this the people al­tered not their silence. He then would have had the Recorder of London to repeat once more what he had said: wherein he desi­red to be excused, as being but lately entered upon the Office, and not having as yet had any occasion to speake unto the peo­ple: but the truth was, he did not like the businesse, thinking it to be unjust. Yet notwithstanding, the Major urging him, and alleaging that the Dukes too eloquent and Court-like Speech was not well understood, he unwillingly obeyed; interposing ever and anon this Parenthesis (He saies) to the end they might not believe his Vote went with it. But the people still more deafe then formerly, the Duke said unto the Major; He never met with so obstinate a silence; and preparing to speake a third time, he said, He was come hither to perswade them to concurre in a businesse, wherein peradventure their assistance would not be requisite: for the Nobility and Commons of the other Pro­vinces would doe it without them; but that he bearing a parti­cular affection to that Noble City, did not desire it should be [Page 109] done without them, but rather would have them have the first part therein. Hee desired them to say, whether in conformity with the rest of the Kingdome, they would name the most Noble Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester, at the present Protectour of the Kingdome, for their King. To the which, though no man answered, yet was not the silence so great as before: for one whispering in anothers eare, a noise was heard, much like the noise of a Hive of Bees: but in the lower end of the Hall, where were many servants, and shop-boyes, who in the crowde were gotten in, they began to cry aloud (the Dukes servants being the Ring-leaders) Long live King Richard: throwing their Hats up: but the Citizens turning about to see what the matter might be, continued their former silence. The Duke wisely making use of this disorder, and being seconded by the Major, said: Hee was much overjoyed to heare, that with so much confor­mity, and without one Negative voice, they had desired this Noble Prince for their King; hee would acquaint him with it, so as it should redound to their advantage. He wished them to be ready; for the next morning he would present him with their supplication; to the end that the Pròtectour might be perswaded to accept of the Kingdome, so much desired by Them, and by the Kingdome. Which being said, he went away, few or none appearing well pleased. The next morning the Major assembled all the Aldermen, and chiefe of the Common-Counsell of the City into Pauls Church, from whence they went to Baynards Castle, the place where the Kings of England had formerly kept their Courts, where the Protectour now lay, and where accor­ding to appoinment made came the Duke of Buckingham, accom­panied with a great number of Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, who sent word to the Protectour, that a great many men of great account were ready there to waite upon his Grace in a bu­sinesse of great importance. The Protectour seemed unwilling to come downe the staires, and give them admittance (as if the businesse had been New unto him) feyning as though their un­expected comming, the cause not knowne why, had made him somewhat jealous. Buckingham by this His refusall strongly ar­gued the Protectours integrity, as being farre from imagining what the businesse now in hand was. Hee sent him word againe, that the businesse was not to be imparted to any save Himselfe; securing him in so humble and submissive a way, as was sufficient to have wrought beliefe in one who had really doubted. He at the last appeared, having two Bishops by his sides, in a bay-win­dow, which lookes out upon the Hall. The Duke of Bucking­ham, making a low reverence, begg'd two things of him: the one, that he would suffer them to make an humble supplication to him: the other, that he would pardon them, in case it should not prove acceptable to him; for though it aimed at nothing but his Honour, and the good of the Kingdome, yet hee was afraid his Modesty (hee being a Prince endued with so much worth) [Page 110] might take it in a contrary sence to their intention. The Prote­ctour answered: He was so confident of their integrity, as Hee hoped they would say nothing that might displease Him; Hee therefore granted the Leave and pardon they demanded. Buc­kingham, after having made a long digression of the Kingdomes grievances, which were not to be cured but by a Prince of his vertue and endowments, said: That they were expressely come humbly to desire him, that the unlawfull birth of his brother King Edwards children considered (not daring to touch upon the birth of Edwards selfe) he would vouchsafe (for his owne innate Goodnesse, for the Zeale he had ever borne to the Weale of the People, and for the Compassion, which upon this present occa­sion, more then upon any other whatsoever, was to shine forth in him) together with the Government of the Kingdome, to accept of the Crowne, to the glory of God, and Countries safety: being he might rest assured, that never did any Prince reigne whose people did thinke themselves so happy, as would His people thinke themselves most happy under Him. The Protectour, as if offended at this request, with angry looke, answered: That though much of what hee had said was true, yet the love hee bare to his brother King Edward, his affe­ction to his Children, and his regard unto his owne Honour, would not permit him to accept of such a burden: for it was to be believed, that should hee depose his Nephewes, and make himselfe King, the ignorant and malignant would ac­cuse him to all the Princes of the World, as if hee had done it not out of the right pretence hee had thereunto, or being enforced to it by the Peoples importunacy, and necessity of the Kingdome (which, to say truth, could not be in worse con­dition then it was) but through his owne Ambition: Yet know­ing their good intentions, hee did not onely pardon them, but returned them thankes, since hee conceived it proceeded from the love they bare him; the which hee desired might be tur­ned to the King, under whose government they now lived, whom he with his person and best advice would serve; ho­ping to put the affaires of the Kingdome into so good order, as they should not have any thing to wish for: as (he praised God) he had given some testimony since his being Protectour; notwithstanding the malignity of some, which had rather been supprest by Divine Providence, then by Humane Wisdome. This answer being given, the Duke of Buckingham stept aside, as if to consult with the Noble-men, the Lord Major, and the Recorder of the City: the which being done, he desired par­don againe; and having obtained it, he said with a Loud voice, as if he were somewhat moved or heated: That the Kingdome was absolutely resolved not to permit Edwards Children to reigne; not so much for that they had proceeded so farre in their requests they were not to hope for Pardon, as for that the Publique good required it: That therefore hee beseeched [Page 111] him to accept of the Crowne, which if he would not doe, they should be enforced to offer it to one that would not refuse it. The Protectour seemed to be affraid of these threats; hee see­med sorrowfull, that they should have so ill a conceipt of his brothers issue: Hee confest hee could not governe or reigne without their good wills; therefore their resolution being such, and there being none to whom the Crowne did of right be­long but to Him, being legitimately descended from the Duke of Yorke: and that to his Naturall and Lawfull Titles, there was added his now Election, the chiefest of all the rest; Hee yeilded to their intreaties and requests: by accepting the Crown, and taking upon him from this time forward the State and Regall preheminence of the two Kingdomes of England and France: the former whereof should be Commanded, Gover­ned, and Defended by Him and his Heires: the other by Gods assistance and theirs Regained; that so it might be in perpetuity established under the obedience of England, whose greatnesse and reputation he so much coveted, as he desired God he might live no longer, then his life might be serviceable to this end. The which being said, they cried aloud King Richard, King Richard, the Artillery playing their part. The Lords went up to him where he was, to kisse his hand, whilst the People departing, spake as leudly of him as they might: being displeased at no­thing more then at the counterfeit carriage of the businesse, which being plotted and resolved upon long before, there had not­withstanding been so many stage-like actions used therein, as if it had never been thought of till then: and as if choice had been made of the Spectatours as of so many of the most senselesse and stupid people of the Land.

The End of the Seventh Booke.

THE EIGHTH BOOK OF THE CIVILL WARRES OF ENGLAND In the Life of Richard the Third.

KIngdomes which belong to others are not usurped without violent meanes; of all which Warre is the least blame­able, though the most harmfull. A valiant usurper is like your High­way robber who bids the traveller stand, and if he take away his purse does it with his Sword in hand. Ri­chard tooke not this way in his usur­ping the Crown: not that he wanted courage (for of the good qualities he was endued withall, Valour was the onely one which was not counterfeit) but because hee found none that did withstand him. Deceipt, fraud, cruelty, and trea­chery were the meanes he used: one or two of which being suffi­cient to other men, they did not all serve his turne; for he inven­ted one beyond imitation or example; the defaming of his mo­ther. [Page 114] Had he who wrote the booke De Principe met with this sub­ject, he would have quit Duke Ualentine, and taken this man for the patterne of his tyrant. Not that the difference between them was great, but for that that was, was in the most essentiall points. Valentines vices, if they were not more execrable, yet were they more dishonest. Richards were more execrable, but more secure. And though both were bad beyond belief, yet Richard by the death of a few infused terrour into the rest, and made himselfe a King; where Valentine by the death of very many could keepe his owne Principality. And if it be said, that Richard weakned the King­dome and its forces by taking off the heads of such as might have made themselves heads of the people, and so have withstood him; that being of the Blood-royall, he had many that sided with him: whereas Valentine on the contrary, had Provinces, Princes, and Republiques for his enemies: the wary wickednesse of the one will be the more remarkable, who knew his advantage; and the unwary rashnesse of the other, who assisted onely by Ecclesiasti­call forces, terminable with the Popes death, undertooke what was not to be effected, or at least not long to be made good.

The ambition of getting the Kingdome began in Richard during his brothers life: and having formerly plotted the whole affaire, he laid the first ground-worke thereof by the death of Henry the sixth, and the Duke of Clarence; and in processe of time, he fini­shed the Fabrick by putting those to death who were likely to op­pose him: and by terrifying the rest, he made his election, which was made by the baser sort of people, be as available as if it had been legally resolved upon by the whole Kingdome: and which is further observable, he pretended not to accept of it, till intreated and enforced. Arguments of a head-piece, which had it been im­ployed in good enterprises, instead of proving the most lewd might have been the wisest then to be found. For all things else, there was no evill which he committed not: He betrayed his Nephews, and then slue them: he cheated his brothers wife; and together with her, those whom he made use of as instruments to remove the little Duke of Yorke from the Sanctuary: in the height of cruelty and irreligion, he counterfeited the perfection of piety, and tendernesse of blood: All his actions were larded with fraud and lyes: the Queen and her brother were by him perswaded to lay downe their armes; the later whereof he imprisoned and be­headed: in like manner he incensed and slue the Chamberlaine: He sacrilegiously divulged his mother to be an Adultresse in a place appropriated for preaching the Word of God; declared his ne­phews to be Bastards, counterfeited the good he had not, conceal'd the evill he had; was like to none but to himselfe. Encomiums worthy of such qualities; (and qualities unworthy of that Crowne, which consisting of Honour, was whilst he wore it dishonoured by his wickednesse. He omitted not any shew of sorrow at his brothers death: he solemnised his Funerals at Yorke, with the rites of mourning. But whilst aiming at usurpation, he seemed to [Page 115] be fond of his nephews, whom he intended to betray, he minded not divine admonitions, which manifesting themselves by sundry waies, are wont by way of observation to advertise us of dangers, to the end that reforming our selves we may change our lives and thoughts from bad to good: for Christian vertues are able to frustrate that which the Ancients called Fate, by withdrawing us from vice and procuring the divine Providence to protect us. The observations here meant are, that all the (Kings) Richards, and all the Dukes of Gloucester came to violent ends: an observation redoubled in him, being by name, Richard; and by title, Duke of Gloucester. Such like observations, though they be not superstiti­ously to be believed, yet are they not slightly to be despised. But the proud man considers no other interest, no not the concernment of his life, so his ambition may be satisfied: upon which his spirits were wholy bent; and upon the arriving whereunto he out did himselfe. He made his vices vertues. He became courteous libe­rall, and affable, especially to Lawyers: he studied nothing but justice, observance of the Lawes, and the peoples indempnity: by which arts he prevailed so farre, as the Crown, which was tu­multuously conferred upon him, was legally offered him by the Parliament; which with base flattery intreated him to accept of it, out of these reasons. ‘That the Kingdome of England had been very happy under the government of wise Kings, assisted by understanding Counsellors: but when their successors began to governe themselves according to their owne fancies, she fell into all manner of misery: The chiefest of which, and from which all the mischiefes of the present time did derive, was Ed­ward the fourths unfortunate praetended marriage with Eliza­beth widow to Sir Iohn Gray (who did still assume to her selfe the title of Queen) which had perverted all the orders not onely of God and the Church, but of nature and the Kingdome: there being now no more propriety, nor any condition which was not subject to feares; since the Lawes either abandoned or abused were rendered uselesse and of no protection. Hence proceeded faults of all sorts; murthers, extortions, and such oppressions as men had no security neither of their lives nor fortunes; much lesse of their wives or daughters: all women were subject to violence; nor was any one though she should refuse, safe in her Honour. To this might be added the blood of so many of the Nobility, of hundred thousands of the Communalty, shed in the late warres, to the universall prejudice of all men, and to the greatest sufferance of the most innocent. That the forenamed pretended marriage was Clandestine, made without the know­ledge or consent of the Nobility: the Devill was the authour thereof, witchcraft the meanes, Elizabeth the chiefe agent, and her mother, the Dutchesse of Bedford, her coadjutrix: that so it was believed; and when time and place should serve it would be proved. But that which chiefly aggravated this businesse, was, That King Edward was long before married to another Lady, [Page 116] when he tooke her to his wife; so as in living with her, contrary to the Lawes of God, and of the Church, in continuall adultery, his sonnes by her were bastards, and, as such, incapable of succes­sion. That by this so heinous sinne, and to the prejudice of the true heire, hee had provoked Gods anger, who had therefore forsaken him, and brought the Kingdome into all those miseries. For these and other reasons they were inforced to elect a King, who by nature, and by the Law was undoubted heire unto the Crown. And because the Duke of Clarence convict of high trea­son in the seventeenth yeere of the reigne of his brother Edward, had by his Attainder rendred his issue incapable of succession▪ therefore the Protector, being the onely undoubted sonne and heire of Richard Duke of Yorke, He and no other was undoubted successour; not reckoning in his vertues which were such as of themselves made him worthy of the Crowne: he being so rich­ly indowed, especially with justice, wisedome, and valour, wit­nessed in so many actions and battels, wherein he had personally beene, shewing his naturall inclination to the common good. Whereupon having no other respect but the peace and tran­quillity of the Kingdome, his prosperity and ancient reputation, they had chosen him their King and Soveraigne Lord. Intrea­ting him to accept the charge; as well by Title of Inheritance, as of Election: they promising for their parts that they would be his good and faithfull Subjects▪ ready upon this and any good occasion to live and die with him: for the oppressions and ex­tortions they had suffered, contrary to the Lawes of God and the Kingdome, had made them resolve to runne what ever dan­ger, rather then to live in the miseries they hitherto had done. They cal'd upon Alinighty God the King of Kings, to inspire him with his light, and to continue unto him in his Regall dignity, those praise-worthy parts, by meanes whereof he deserved to be King, though he were not. And that though his right needed not any publique Acts of Parliament (he being King and heire unto the Crowne without them) yet in regard the people might be ignorant of the cause of the deposing the one, and assuming the other; for this cause, and to remove all doubts that might arise, the Lords Spirituall and Temporall, and Commons assem­bled in Parliament, had in full Parliament pronounced, decreed, and declared, that Richard the third their Soveraigne Lord, was whilest hee should live the undoubted King of England, and of all that within or without belonged thereunto; and after him his heires: That the high and mighty Prince Edward his sonne was his heire apparant; and after him those who should discend from him.’ This decree being registred among the Acts of Par­liament and approved of by King Richard, with order to be held authenticall in all the parts thereof, made it be understood, that the Kings of England have power to doe what they will; when they are either loved for their vertues, or feared for their force. For what concernes love, there is no proof in this present case; but [Page 117] of feare, sufficient, feare being the prinium mobile of this businesse. Richard having by the assistance of the Duke of Buckingham and their adherent raised a powerfull faction; the lawfull King being a Child, and prisoner; the Tyrant a man of braines, wel­spoken, and of reputation in armes, not likely to undertake such a businesse unlesse certaine to effect it: all men doubting themselves: since their forces being cut off, and those put to death which might have re-united them, they were exposed to the violence of so cruell a man as Richard; who had given proofe of his cruelty by his detaining the King, by his taking the Duke of York from the Sanctuary, by his impudence in declaring them to be Bustards, and by his shamelesnesse in publishing his mother to be a whore, to boote with the death of so many Peeres. This feare was that which gave a maske to the flatteries of Parliament, and which furnisht it with some colour of pretence drawne from Doctor Shaw's Sermon, and the speeches made by the Duke of [...] in the City-Hall. Richard being thus confirmed and believing to settle his tyranny by resting it upon un-accustomed circumstances, hee went into Westminster-hall, sate him downe in the Kings Bench where in doubtfull cases the Kings of England had wont antiently to sit, and where hee avowed his accepting of the Crowne: the which hee exprest in a formall Oration, and in a manner so well composed as those who had not knowne him, would have thought England had never beene blest with so good a King: and to colour with the shew of clemency his innate cruelty, hee caused one Fogge who had taken Sancturary, and whom he had alwayes mortally hated, to be brought before him; hee tooke him by the hand in fight of all the people, and made professions of loving him now as much as he had formerly hated Him: by which act he made a great impression in the simpler sort; but those who were better advised knew that this was but a Bait wherewith to catch better fish. In his returne to his Palace, Hee courteously saluted such as Hee knew loved Him not, thinking by this servile flattery to infatuate their mindes, and to establish his government. Yet for all this he durst not rely upon his present fortune; He ascertained His Coronation by unaccustomed forces; causing five thousand men to come from the Northerne parts of the Kingdome, in whom hee trusted, aswell for that they tooke part with the House of Yorke, as likewise that living in re­mote parts, they were not acquainted with his actions, as were the Londoners; who having him alwayes in their eye, abhor­red Him. These Northern men appeared ill clad, and worse arm'd, which made them be but laught at: for twas thought that if He should have occasion to make use of them, they would not serve His turne; and that twas neither these forces not yet greater but a meere Fatality which had precipitated England into so dire and miserable a subjection. The last act of His possessing the Crowne was His Coronation, all things thereunto belonging being ready, as prepared for His Nephews Coronation. Hee [Page 118] went with his Wife and His Sonne to the Tower; where the next day Hee created the Lord Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolke; Thomas Howard, Sonne to the same man Hee created Earle of Surrey: Hee made William Barckley Earle of Nottingham; and the Lord Francis Lovell Viscount and Lord Chamberlaine: and Hee made seventeene Knights of the Bath. The Archbishop of Yorke, the Lord Stanley, and the Bishop of Ely had beene pri­soners in the Tower ever since the Chamberlaine lost his Head; Hee set the first at liberty, finding himselfe peaceably possest of the Kingdome, otherwise Hee would not have done it; for be­ing an honest man hee would never have given his consent to the deposing of the true King: Hee freed the second out of feare; for His Sonne, the Lord Strange was raysing great forces in Lancashire (a place wherein Hee had great Power and was mightily followed) it behooved him to appease Him: but Hee did not set the Bishop of Ely at liberty, who was a faithfull ser­vant to King Edward; for Hee was certaine Hee would never con­descend to his Childrens deprivation, nor to the unjust wayes whereby Hee usurped the Kingdome: whereof Hee had made tryall in the Councells held in the Tower, whilest by oblique meanes He set the businesse on foot. The Bishop was of no great birth; but having lived a long time in good repute in Oxford, hee was taken from thence, being but bare Doctor, by Henry the sixt, and made a Privy-Counsellour: Edward, knowing his in­tegrity, kept him still in that condition, and chose Him at His death to be one of his Executors. Richard therefore, fearing Him, would have kept Him still in Prison, though Hee set the others at liberty; had not the Vniversity of Oxford (which Hee did al­wayes very much favour) interceded for Him: so that desirous in part to satisfy the Vniversity, Hee was content to take him from the Tower, as being too publick a place: but that Hee might not have His free liberty, Hee committed him to the custody of the Duke of Buckingham, who sent Him to a Castle of His in Brecknockshire; where they joyntly laid the first ground-worke of Richards ruine.

Hee together with his Wife was Crowned in great pompe the sixteenth of Iuly: his Wife was daughter to the great Earle of War­wicke, who had made and unmade the two preceding Kings, and Widow to Edward, Sonne to Henry the Sixt Prince of Wales: to whom she was give in marriage, when Edward the Fourths ruine was agreed upon in France. So as being destin'd to be a Queene, it was her ill fortune to be one by his meanes who had slaine her former husband, and married her only for that shee, together with her Sister, Wife to the Duke of Clarence, were great Heires.

I will not treate of this Coronation; it tends not to our purpose. The solemnity being ended, hee dismist all the Lords that they might returne to their own homes: recommending to such as were in Office, the due Administration of Justice without extortion or injury, the execution of the Laws, and Libertie of the Sub­jects [Page 119] as not willing to have any thing ill done but by himselfe He dismist not the Lord Stanley, till such time as his Sonne Strange had disbanded the forces hee had raised. Hee also dismis [...] the five thousand which he had caused to come for his Guard from the North having spoken them faire and rewarded them: where­upon they went away so well pleas'd, as becomming thereupon insolent, they forced him to go in person into those parts, to ap­pease the tumults they had there raised, the which could not be done but by the death of many of them. He forthwith sent to Lewis the Eleventh, King of France, touching the continuance of the League made with his brother Edward: but his Embassadour arriving after his Nephews death, Lewis would not afford him audience, esteeming his friendship unworthy of any humane cor­respondency.

In what concerned their death, he demeaned himselfe in this sort. He first withdrew himselfe to Gloucester, the place of his Patrimony and Title, his conscience not permitting him to be in the place where his cruelty was to surpasse the cruelty of all other tyrants. He might have kept them prisoners without any man­ner of danger, since they had no friends: and so he might not have arrived to the height of hatred he did after their death. But he, not esteeming himselfe King, whilst they were alive, sent his trusty servant Iohn Greene with Letter to Sir Robert Braken­bury, Constable of the Tower, wherein he commanded the to put them to death; who, abhorring the act returned answer: He would rather die himselfe then obey him therein. Richard here­by perceived he was not arrived at that power he thought he had beene; since any one durst disobey him in any how unjust soever a Command: so as not able to quiet himselfe, nor to take any rest in his bed, his page who usually lay in his Chamber, desired His Majesty he would be pleased to acquaint him with the rea­son of his disquiet. To whom he replyed, he was miserable, not having any one on whom to trust: that he was repay'd with in­gratitude, and his service denied by those, who having beene be­friended by him, should thinke themselves happy when blest with an occasion of doing him service. The page not knowing the cause of his complaint, but well acquainted with his nature, thought the command must be horrid which any one durst dis­obey: and calling a Gentleman to minde who lay on a pallet bed in the Ante-chamber, hee named him to Richard; and told him, there was not that thing of danger nor difficulty which he would not undertake. His name was Iames Tirrell: He might have past for a well-conditioned man, had hee not beene corrupted by dishonest ambition; he had left nor did leave no stone unturn'd whereby to get preferment in Court, which was his element: but was discontented being held back by Richard Ratcliffe and William Catesby, who govern'd the King, and werenot desirous of a third companion, that surpassing them in audacity, might surpasse them in fortune and put them from the favour they possessed. [Page 120] This Page was a friend of his, and knew his discontents; so as thinking to do him a good turne (whilest he could not have done a worse) he propounded him to King Richard: who knowing his quality, rose out of his bed to make tryall of him; and throwing a night-Gowne about him, hee went where Tirrell lay, and Thomas Tirrell, his brother by Bloud, but not in conditions. Hee awaked him; and acquainted him with what hee desired craving his aide therein. Iames was not at all amazed, but under­tooke the businesse; and was the next day dispatcht with Let­ters to Brakenbury, wherein hee was commanded to deliver up the Keyes of the Tower for one night to this Tirrell, to the end he might do what he had in command. The Constable obeyed and delivered the Keyes. The two innocent children had beene more strictly kept after their unckle had quitted the title of Pro­tector, and assumed that of the King: they were not only de­barred visits, but had their servants taken from them; and had each of them two assigned to waite on them whom they knew not: and that rather in place of Guardians then servants. The Prince knew what was done to his prejudice: hee knew hee was no lon­ger King: that his Unckle was crowned. Nature pointed forth unto him his danger; the apprehension and feare whereof was augmented by his tender age, subject to weakenesse: hee thought no longer of the losse of his Kingdome, neither did hee much value it; he though only on his Life: which being by the instinct of nature desired, and to be hoped for, (though as a pri­soner) it might, in all reason, have beene granted him. He sigh­ing said to him that brought him the first tidings that his Unkle had bereft him of his Crowne, He did not greatly care; so as to­gether with it he would not take his Life away. After this time hee never put off his cloathes, nor ever went out of his Cham­ber; but being together with his brother full of sad thoughts he kept his Chamber till the comming of this miserable night. Of the foure that waited upon them, Tirrell chose Miles Forest, a man from his youth brought up in bloud; to whom hee gave for his companion Iohn Dighton, the groome of his stable, a lusty strong rascall. He made them goe at mid-night into the Chamber where they slept, and where wrapt up in their Bed-clothes, they stopt their mouthes with the Bolster and Pillowes, and so stifled them. The businesse was soone dispatcht. Tirrell forthwith buried them under a great heape of Rubbish at the staire-foot in a deepe hole: which being done he hasted to horse, to acquaint the King with what had past; who together with other favours did at the instant Knight him (as some relate) being well pleased with all that had beene done, save their Bu­riall. He had no scruple of minde to usurpe their Crowne, they being the true Heires; nor to murther them, being innocent: but He was troubled that being the Sonnes of a King and of His bloud, they should be buried in so contemptible a place: where­upon the Chaplaine of the Tower tooke them from thence, and [Page 121] buried them elsewhere; but hee dying soone after himselfe, 'twas never knowne where he layd them. Some will have it that hee put their bodies in a Coffin of Lead, and sunke it in the Thames mouth. 'Tis certaine that Tirrell being imprisoned in the Tower for treason in Henry the Sevenths time, confest what had beene sayd, after the same manner 'tis here, not knowing what became of their bodies after they were taken from the place were hee had buried them. He suffered for other faults the punishment he deserved for this: as did likewise the rest. God doth not al­wayes punish all faults in an instant; but seldome suffers evill actions to have good ends: for being approved of neither by men nor by the Lawes, if they escape one punishment, they fall up­on another; and for their second fault receive the punishment due for the former. As long as Richard lived after this, He was both outwardly and inwardly troubled with feares and agonies; and according to the relations of some that were most inward with him, He after this so execrable act, injoy'd not one houre of quiet: his countenance was changed, his eyes were troubled and ghastly, Hee wore coates of Male underneath his clothes; and had almost continually, His hand upon His Daggers-hilt ready to strike, as if Hee had then beene strucken: He spent whole nights in watching; and if at any time He chanced to take a little rest, He would be wakened with fearfull Dreames, which would force him to quit His bed, and so walke up and downe His cham­ber full of prodigious feares. The other two though they escap­ed humane Justice, yet were they met with all by Justice from above: for Miles Forest dyed having almost all his members first rotted, and then cut off: if Deighton fared not altogether so ill, yet was hee in daily expectation to be made an exemplary spectacle by some ignominious death; for it is affirm'd by one who writes of him, that in his time he was alive in Callis, but so universally hated and detested by all men, that hee was pointed at as he went along the streetes: Others affirme that he lived and dyed there in great misery. The first intestine troubles which Richard was afflicted withall, were occasioned by the bad intel­ligence which was held betweene Him and the Duke of Buck­ingham. What the occasion thereof might be is onely knowne by conjecture; yet such as is not likely to erre: They were both naturally proud; therefore prone to breake; and though Buck­ingham first endevoured Glocesters friendship before Glocester His, he did it not in respect of his alike Genius, but fearing least hee might fall from the greatesse he was in, under the authority of the Queene and her kinred; to shun this Rock, he gave against the Other: which though it were the more dangerous, yet did he rather chuse to submit himselfe to a Superior who was borne great, then to his Inferiors who had acquir'd greatnesse. It is said that Edward being dead, he sent his servant Persall presently to Yorke where Richard then was; who being privately admitted by night, made offer unto him of his Masters service in this [Page 122] change of King; and that if neede should be, his master would come unto him in Person waited on by a Thousand fighting men: that he made the same be said over to him againe when he came to Nottingham: and that when he returned to Yorke he went to visit him attended by three hundred horse; where a close friend­ship being contracted betweene them, things followed as hath been said, even to the Usurpation of the Crowne: after which they cooled in their affections, to the amazement of those who observed their friendship: for they came to the point of not Trusting one another; and 'twas thought moreover, that in the last journey to Glocester, Buckingham ran hazard of his life. The cause of their distast was supposed to arise from some claime Buckingham had to the Duke of Hertfords Lands, for that reput­ing himselfe to be his Heire, he thought that Richard would not have denied them unto him, neither in Justice nor yet in Recom­pence of his service. But these Lands were so linkt to the Crown as that being falne from the house of Lancaster upon the late de­pos'd Henry, and from Him upon the Crowne, they were to be free from any privat propriety or pretension; which still con­tinuing in the Duke, Richard feared least his thoughts might ex­ceed the condition of a Subject: insomuch as when Buckingham demanded them, he received so sharpe, so threatning, and so scornefull a deniall as not able to endure it, he fained himselfe sick, that so he might not be at the Coronation; and Richard sent him word that if he would not come, he would make him be brought thither: whereupon he was forced to go in all the rich and stately Equipage which at an Extraordinary charge he had prepared before their distasts. Others notwithstanding will have that the distasts between them rose after this, not having as Then any being: that the King standing in need of him, would not have hazarded the losing of him in that manner; and that the Duke, very well acquainted with his Nature, would not have hazarded his Life, being assured that upon any whatsoever occa­sion, he could not expect better dealings then his Nephews had met withall. Notwithstanding the first opinion was thought true, in respect of his proud behaviour; as likewise for that in the very act of Richards Coronation, he turned his Eyes another way as Repenting he had bin the occasioner of it: and that Rich­ard though he knew him to be distracted, treated him civilly, and presented him at his departure to Glocester; but his Alienation grew after he was come to his house at Brecknock, and had had discourse with Dr. Morton Bishop of Ely.

This Bishop was a learned man, and of a good life; a con­stant part-taker with Henry the sixt, neither did he ever forsake him even till his imprisonment. He fled with the Queen and Prince into France, and returned with them into England. But their affaires succeeding ill, and Edward being established in the Kingdome, He was by him received into favour for knowing him to have bin Loyall to his First master, he thought he would be [Page 123] the like to Him; so as leaving him Executor of his last Will and Testament, he continued his wonted loyalty to his Children: which Richard knowing to be such as was unalterable, he put him in the Tower, and afterwards assigned him to the custody of the Duke of Buckingham, with whom discoursing of Richards iniqui­ties, he gave the rise to his Ruine: for they found the true way to put a period to the Civill warres by marrying Henry Earle of Richmond to Edwards eldest daughter. But having retired him­selfe to Rome with intention not to meddle any more in Worldly affaires, he returned not till sent for by the said Earle when he was King: by whom hee was made Archbishop of Canterbury, and Chancellour of England; and who likewise procured him to be made Cardinall: in which Honours he died as vertuously as he had lived.

This man at the Dukes returne found a great alteration in him towards Richard. He hoped to worke some good effect thereout; not by propounding any thing, but by seconding his opinions: in which he govern'd himselfe so well, as the more averse he shewed himselfe to what indeed he did desire, the more provoked he an eagernesse in the Duke to discover what he sought to hide: ‘so as exagerating Englands happinesse falne into the government of so wise a Prince, whilst under the government of a Child, gui­ded by persons interessed, and hated, it must have been ruina­ted; The Bishop answered, He must confesse the truth; (being sure that by doing otherwise he should not be believed) that if things lately passed had been to be decided by Votes, he should have voted that after Henry the sixths death, the Crowne should have gone to his sonne Prince Edward, and not to King Edward: but that both of them being dead, it had been great folly in him not to comply with the new King, since the dead doe not re­vive: That hee had behaved himselfe to Edward in all things as a faithfull Subject and Servant ought to doe to his King and Master: That he would have done the like to his Children, had they succeeded Him in His Kingdome: but God having other­wise dispos'd of them, his pretences were not to raise up that which God would keepe downe: And for what concern'd the now King, formerly Protector—’;Here he held his peace, as if he had unadvisedly falne upon that discourse; but after a whiles silence he pursued to say, ‘That hee had already too much trou­bled himselfe with Worldly affaires; 'twas now time to retire himselfe, and consider nothing but his Bookes, and his owne quiet.’ The silence that unexpectedly interrupted the discourse which the Duke desired to have heard finished, made his desire thereof the greater; so as thinking he had held his peace, as not being confident of him, he desired him to speake his minde Bold­ly, assuring him he should be so farre from receiving Dammage thereby, as that it might redound more to his Advantage then hee imagined: That he had begg'd his Guardianship of the King for no other end, but that he might better himselfe by his wise Coun­sels; [Page 124] and that if He had been in any other mans custody, He could not have met with one that would have set such a value upon his worth, as did he. The Bishop thanked him, replying, That it ‘was not his desire to speake of Princes since they made the world to be not what it was, but what it seem'd best to them. Then when the Lyon banisht all Horn'd-beasts out of the Woods, one that had a little[?] Wen in his forehead fled away with the rest; and being demanded by the Foxe, why he fled? he answered, because of the proclamed banishment. Yea but thou hast no Hornes (said the Fox.) Tis true, I have none, (said the other animal;) but if the Lyon should say this Wenne were a Horne, who durst say the contrary? In what case should I be? The Duke was well pleased with a Fable, yet could hee not perswade him there was no Lyon should doe him any harme. The Bishop said: It was not his intention to dispute the Pro­tectours title, who was now King: but since their treaty con­cerned the Common-wealth, whereof he was a member, he wisht it an addition of perfections to the many it already was endow'd withall; and amongst these, some of those with which God had adorned Him (the Duke.)’ This being said, hee held his peace, much to the others displeasure; who was grieved, that whilst the Bishops discourse promised Much, hee had said just Nothing: whilst the comparison betweene the King and Him re­quired not so darke but more intelligible explication. He told him, these many clouds of Diffidence injured their friendly com­munication, assuring him, that whatsoever he should say, since it proceeded from a personage he so much honour'd, it should be as if it had not been said at all. Upon these words the Bishop re­solved freely to unbosome himselfe; encouraged by the Dukes vanity, who loved to heare himselfe praised, and by the Hatred he had now discovered he bore unto the King. Whereupon he said, ‘He had read, that man was not borne for Himselfe alone, for his Friends or Parents, but Chiefly for his Countrey; that this consideration had moved him to take into his thoughts the present condition of this Kingdome, his native soyle; the which, (in comparison of former times) 'twas a wonder if it were not utterly ruin'd. That there had been Kings under whose go­vernment it had happily flourished, the love betweene them and their Subjects being reciprocall; their interests being the same: At home Peace, Justice and Security; Abroad Victory, Honour, and Trophees: But now the world was much altered; there was but onely one hope left, which was in Him (the Duke) for considering his Publique Zeale, his Learning, his Wisdome, Wit, and so many other endowments, the Kingdome in the midst of so great misery could have recourse to none but Him: and that it had no Haven wherein to save it selfe during this tempest in which it was agitated, but the safe Rode of His government, out of which it was certaine to suffer Shipwrack: That it could not be denied but that the Protector (who now [Page 125] stiled himselfe King) was endowed with Vertues, which made him worthy of the Kingdome, did he not reigne: but that these his vertues were corrupted by so many Old and New vices, that they had lost both their Quality and Name; a wicked Prince converting Vertue into Vice, as Vipers and Toads doe Nourish­ment into Poyson: That there was no example in the usurping a Crown comparable with his for Wickednesse: He had procured it without any pretence of Law: contrary to the lawes of Hu­manity, making his way thereunto by the Death of so many Worthy and Innocent persons: contrary to the law of Nature, by calumniating his Mother; whom hee would have to be ho­nest onely when shee conceived him: contrary to the Laws of the Church; by declaring his Nephews to be borne in Unlawfull Matrimony: contrary to them All together, by being their Exe­cutioner; so as their Blood, crying to Heaven for Revenge, warn'd every man to beware of his life; for if to possesse Him­selfe of a Kingdome, hee had not spared Their lives who were Neerest in Blood unto Him, he would muchlesse spare the lives of Others that were Nothing at all unto Him, so to usurpe what belonged to them. To shunne therefore the Rockes they were likely to runne upon, he humbly desired him, That as he loved God, his owne House, and his native Countrey, he would accept the Crowne; free it from the captivity whereinto it was falne; and if he would not doe this, he conjured him by the obligations he ought to God, that hee would doe his uttermost to change the Government; since upon whomsoever it should fall, it must needs redownd to the publique service: but if He would as­sume it, God would be therewithall well pleased, He and his House secured, the Kingdome obliged; and all the World would thanke him.’ When he had ceased speaking, the Duke stood a good while pensive with his eyes fixt: whereat the bishop was much astonished; insomuch as his colour changed. In such like matters men are not satisfied with silence, nor mentall replies, which argue perill and prejudice. But supper time broke off their discourse, which the Duke adjourned till the morrow morning: and percei­ving the bishop to be much troubled, he intreated him not to be disquieted at this delay, assuring him hee would keepe promise with him: which did not notwithstanding satisfie the Bishop, who was as desirous to know the Dukes intention now, as the Duke was earnest to know his the day before. But he failed him not in what he had promised him: for having handsomely and metho­dically gone over all that the other had said, he laid his Hat upon the Table, and calling devoutly upon God, he thanked him for ‘that they being amidst so many tempests and dangers, in a good, but ill-governed ship, he had been pleased to enlighten them, by affording them a meanes how to provide themselves of a Steers­man, who being one that would give satisfaction, would bring safety and welfare to the Kingdome. Then taking up his Hat, and putting it on his head, he thanked the Bishop for the affe­ction [Page 126] he had ever found in him, especially at this time, in this their weighty and trusty communication: his fidelity and zeale unto his Country, together with so many other unfained cir­cumstances, and voyd of selfe-interest, rendering him worthy to be esteemed the honest man that all men thought him: He was sorry his deserts had not met with a fortune worthy of him; but he assured him that if God should at any time blesse him with meanes to shew his gratitude, he would not faile there­in, but give it the precedency of all other duties. That now he came to his answer, wherein he would conceale nothing, being so taught and obliged to doe by his example. He wish him then to know that the reason of his alienation from King Edwards children, was their fathers discountenancing of him upon all occasions, without any cause given; whilst they two having married two sisters, he might have expected to have been more friendly treated: he therefore thought himselfe free from all bands of humanity, since the King used none to him, having not onely excluded him from all Offices and Honours, but treated him after a manner not worthy of his quality. The first thing then that after his death came into his thoughts was the miserable condition of the Kingdome, under the government of a woman and of a child; not so much in respect of the ones sex and the others age, as that her brother the Earle Rivers, and the Marquesse Dorset her sonne were to exclude from all authority and preemi­nence, not onely the Dukes and great men of the Kingdome, but even the brother to the deceased King. He thought it therefore requisite for him, as well for the publique, as his owne private good, to joyne with the Duke of Gloucester; whom hee then thought as free from all dissembling, injury, and cruelty, as hee now knew him to be most dissembling, injurious, and cruell man that ever was borne. Upon this false opinion, at the first Coun­cell held in London hee was by his meanes created Protector of the King and Kingdome: and after having by fraudulent preten­ces gotten the Duke of Yorke out of the Sanctuary, he had the boldnesse (not without sprinkling some threats) to demand the Crown of him and the other Lords that were then in Councell, till such time as the King being full foure and twenty yeeres old should be of age to governe it: but that meeting with some diffi­culties, (the like thing not having been formerly heard of, and that it was unlikely any man would be found so moderate, as to lay downe the Crowne, become a Subject, and submit himselfe to Anothers government, after He had governed of Himselfe so long) hee presented them with certaine Writings authenticated by Doctors, Notaries and Witnesses, by which it appeared Edwards sonnes were Bastards: which was then believed to be as True, as it is Now knowne to be notoriously False; the false witnesses being by recompences and promises, drawne to so great a treachery. This writing being read, he said unto the Counsellors: My Lords! I am assured that being Wise and [Page 127] Faithfull, you will not suffer my Nephew to receive any injury: but I am likewise confident that being Just, you wil see no wrong done to Me. That which you have heard is either true, or false; if you believe it not, cleare your selves in the point; and if you be­lieve it, which of you will deny Mee to be the undoubted Heire to Richard Plantagenet Duke of Yorke, declared by the Authority of Parliament to be heire unto the Crowne? since the Duke of Clarence's Sonne is by his Fathers Delinquency made incapable thereof; and his Father more then He, being reputed a Bastard, and upon good presumptions held for such a one in the house of Yorke. Not any one answering him, much lesse opposing him, he was (chiefly by the assistance of Him, the Duke of Buc­kingham) of Protector, made King; hee having first received his plighted faith there, which afterwards was confirmed to him by giving of him his hand in Baynards-castle, that he would provide for the Lives of the two Princes in so good a manner, that He and All the world should be therewith satisfied. Now where is that Prince that after such a Service, would not of his owne free will have sought out some meanes how to have gra­tified him, unlesse it were Richard, who being demanded a thing which was not His, and which was not in Justice to be de­nied, denied it him out of meere ingratitude? The things hee required of him were; the Office of High-Constable of Eng­land, which having been enjoyed by his Fore-fathers, it was a shame for Him to goe without it; and the Lands belonging to the Earle of Hereford, which had beene wrongfully detained from him by his brother, King Edward: the which hee did not sodainely deny unto him, but held him a while in Hope; till being constantly solicited therein, hee absolutely denied him, objecting that such a demand pretended to set on foote againe the pretences of the house of Lancaster, since Henry the fourth, who was heire thereunto, having wrongfully usurped the Crowne, and by his usurpation united them to the same, they were not againe to be taken from the Crowne, unlesse that to­gether with them pretence were had unto the Kingdome: the which it should seem was by him intended: since that, being falne by the death of Henry the sixth upon him, (Buckingham) according to the Common-law (in what concernes private men, but not the State) he did againe revive the tacit pretence there­unto. Of the which, in good faith, Hee never had the least thought. Whereupon suppressing within himselfe the base in­justice of so ungratefull a man, hee had much a doe to keepe himselfe within the bounds of Patience; till he heard of the Death of the two dispossessed and innocent Princes: of the which he tooke God to witnesse He was so innocent, as it never entered into his imagination; and that when he heard of it, he was so heartily grieved, as it was impossible for him any more to looke upon the King, abhorring his sight, and being resolved never to returne to Court, till he had wrought Publique Re­venge: [Page 128] but that finding it hard to get from him, (for Tyrants have no more faithfull nor vigilant guardians then their owne Suspitions) he at last so farre prevailed, as dissembling the True cause, and finding excuses to make his journey seeme necessary, hee had got leave, Richard believing that hee went away very well satisfied, whilst in truth he was much discontented. That, wherewith he entertained his thoughts in this voyage, was to finde out a meanes how to depose Richard; but a Successour being to be found out, he could not light upon any one more lawfull then Himselfe: for having made a mentall scrutiny, and finding that his Grandfather Edmund Duke of Sommerset was Twice removed from Iohn Duke of Lancaster, the Founder of that house; and Henry the sixth, Thrice; it followed that His mother, daughter to Edmund, being removed as Henry the sixth, He (her heire) should, after Henry the sixth, be the undoubted Suc­cessour; the line of Sommerset descending from the said Iohn Duke of Lancaster in like sort, the other having onely prece­dency by Birth-right in Henry the fourth, the fifth, and sixth: so as feeding himselfe with this imagination, assisted by Vanity and Ambition, he though he might have grounded Richards ruin upon the foundation of his Owne pretence not finding any opposition therein. But meeting with the Countesse of Rich­mond (wife to the now Lord Stanley) betweene Worcester and Bridgnorth, his ill-grounded Fabrick was soon overthrowne. For calling to mind that shee was the onely daughter and Heire to Iohn Duke of Sommerset, elder brother to his Grandfather Ed­mund, it followed that Her sonne the Earle of Richmond, was the true heire and pretender, which he had formerly thought Him­selfe to be. And that believing himselfe to be so, he had pro­ceeded even to the point of weighing the Dangers, and amu­sing himselfe about what meanes he were best to make use of: whether of his naturall Right, or of Election: and though the Lawes both of the Kingdome and of Nature appeared sufficient to him, for what concerned his Naturall Right; yet the Succes­sion having been Interrupted, and the house of Yorke in pos­session, he had thought it requisite for him to have the Votes of the Lords and Commons, for that the generall lawfull Election would corroborate his particular Right, and exclude the Ty­rant. Touching Dangers; he found they would be great in a litigious Kingdome, in which let the title be never so apparent, some will not be wanting who will oppose it; particularly upon the present occasion; the house of Yorke reigning, Edwards daughters being well Beloved, and by reason of their Unkles evill intreatment, Pittied by all men: so as though they might have a great desire to free themselves of a perverse King, yet was it not such as to make them favour Another to their pre­judice who were held the true Heires. But the seeing of the Countesse having made him aware of the Injustice of his pre­tences, and that if he should continue Obstinate therein, dan­gers [Page 129] were likely to increase, if Edwards daughters joyning with the Earle of Richmond, He were by their partakers to be set upon on both sides, hee had changed his mind. Not that the Countesse had spoken to him of it, who had no such Thought, but that he had observed Here a Neerer Propinquity. The dis­course she held with him was; To conjure him by the Neere­nesse of his Blood, and by the memory of Humphrey Duke of Buckingham, his Grandfather, and sworne brother to Iohn Duke of Sommerset her father, that he would entreat the King to re­assume her sonne the Earle of Richmond into his favour, and suffer him to returne to England: and that for her part, shee would oblige her selfe to make him marry which of Edwards daughters the King would please, without Portion or any o­ther thing, save onely his re-patriation. The which hee pro­mised to doe; whereupon they parted: she with New Hopes, and he with New Thoughts. For, calling to mind the Earles claime, with the same apprehensions which were by Him (the Bishop) propounded the night before; he fell upon a resolu­tion to assist him with all Might and Meanes, as true Heire of the house of Lancaster, in the defence whereof his Father and Grandfather had beene slaine; upon this condition notwith­standing, that hee should marry Elizabeth eldest daughter to King Edward: for that this marriage joyning together the two houses of Lancaster and Yorke, in the two persons who could onely pretend unto the Crowne, the Kingdome would be established, and all occasion of Warre or Civill Dissension would be taken away for the time to come. The which mar­riage, if the Mother and the Sonne of the House of Lancaster would accept of, on the one side; and the Mother and Daugh­ter of the House of Yorke on the other; none would be to be feared but the Boare that wounded all men with his Tuskes, and who would doubtlesly be soone destroyed; since all men were to joyne in a worke, from whence were to issue both Pub­lique and Private ease and quiet.’

It cannot be conceived how overjoy'd the Bishop was to heare this his Conclusion, being the same he desired: so as praising the Dukes Goodnesse and Wisdome, and now longing to see the businesse on foot, he asked him with which of the two he inten­ded to treat first? who answered, with the Countesse of Rich­mond; for that it was necessary first to know the Earle her Sonnes mind. Which the Bishop approving of, he offered to bring unto him Reynold Bray, a Houshold-servant to the Countesse, a wise discreet man, and who being verst in the negotiation of great businesses, would be fittest to be imployed in this. The which the Duke approving of, hee wrote unto him, and sent the Letter by an Expresse, wherein he desired him to come to Brecknock, for a businesse which concerned the Countesse his Mistresse. He forthwith obeyed who 'twas sent for him. The instructions he received were, that considering the Kingdome could not be [Page 130] brought to quiet but by advancing the Earle of Richmond to the Crown, by meanes of uniting the two houses of Lancaster and York by marriage; that the Countesse of Richmond should treat thereof with Queen Elizabeth, and having obtained Her good will, and Her eldest Daughters, shee should send into Brittany to treat thereof with her Sonne: who if He woud promise to marry Her after He should have obtained the Crowne, they engaged them­selves, by joyning the Forces of the Factions, to make him King. Bray being dispatched away with this Embassie, the Bishop took leave likewise of the Duke: the Duke was loth to part with him, needing his Advice; but he resolved howsoever to be gone: and whilst the Duke fed him with hopes, under pretence of raising men who might secure him in his journey, he stole away disgui­sed; and getting luckily to Ely, he provided himselfe of moneys and past over into Flanders: where being Absent, but in a safe place, he furthered the businesse more then he could have done, had he, not without danger, stay'd in England. Yet did his depar­ture prove unfortunate to the Duke: for, wanting His advice, and some too early notice being gotten of the Designe, it proved his finall ruine.

Bray acquainted his Lady with the businesse, who approved of it, encouraged thereunto by the great quality and condition they were of who were the promoters of it: but the Queen be­ing in Sanctuary, and it not befitting the Countesse to goe to her in person, she sent to her her Physitian Lewis, who being a lear­ned man, by birth a Welchman, and one of the greatest esteeme of as many as were of his profession, was fitter to be imploy'd in this businesse then any one of another condition; for the Queen stood in need of such men, being continually troubled with new indispositions of health, caused either for want of bodily exer­cise, or by the superaboundant exercise of her mind; so as wil­ling him to visit her as of Himselfe, she wished him to acquaint her with the businesse; not as it was Digested and Concluded, but as a conceit of his Owne, not hard to be effected if She would approve of it. The Physician consented; and going to London upon some Other pretence, he went to visit her, being well known unto her: and having occasion to speake of her Afflictions, he ‘desired leave to acquaint her with a Thought which since it pro­ceeded from a good Heart, he hoped that though it might appeare to Her to be Vaine, and not Feasible, yet she would not be the worse for knowing it. The Queene permitting him to say his pleasure, he told her; That since the Death of King Edward of glorious memory, and of the two innocent Children her Sonnes, and since the Usurpation made of the Kingdome by Richard, the most detestable of as many Tyrants as ever had been heard of, he could never be at quiet within himselfe till he had found out a meanes whereby to put the Kingdome in Quiet, the just Heires in their Possession, and to bring the unjust Usurper to ruine. But that having considered many, he [Page 131] bethought himselfe, that so much blood having been spent be­tweene the two Houses of Lancaster and Yorke, the best way was to unite them both by Marriage; giving the Lady Eliza­beth heire to the house of Yorke, for wife to the Earle of Rich­mond heire to the house of Lancaster. A match wherewith all the Kingdome was to be satisfied, for that Peace being thereby likely to ensue, the two Houses were to be accorded, to the Destruction of the Tyrant, and the restoring of Her selfe, Fa­mily, and Children, to their former greatnesse.’If things natu­rally good of themselves are apt to content such as are endued with Reason, and especially those who are thereby to receive Ease and Comfort, great reason had the Queene to be herewith­all pleased; who being laden with so many miseries, saw in this her desperate condition, an evident meanes of restoring her Selfe and Family. She thanked God, acknowledging that if there re­mained any hopes of consolation to her, there was none in hu­mane appearance, more likely then this. After she had thank­fully acknowledged her Obligation to the Physitian for his so wise and discreet advise, she prayed him that since he had beene the first inventor, he would likewise put it in execution: that she knew of what esteeme he was with the Countesse of Richmond; to whom she bad him say in Her behalfe, That if the Earle her Sonne would binde himselfe by Oath to marry Elizabeth her El­dest Daughter; and in case she should Die, her Second daughter; she promised to assist him, by all friends and adhaerents, in get­ting the Crowne. The Physician having told the Countesse thus much, she presently went to worke. Reynald Bray dealt with such as he knew faithfull, and fit for a businesse of such impor­tance; whilst the Queen negotiated with all those who hated the King, and wisht for nothing more then an opportunity of doing her service. Those imployed by the Countesse, besides Bray and the Physitian, were Sir Giles Aubeny, Sir Iohn Cheinie, Sir Richard Gilford, Thomas Ramney, and Hugh Conway. The Physi­tian had preferred one Christopher Urswick to be her Chaplaine; a wise man, and who having served on the behalfe of Henry the sixth as long as he lived, might safely be relied upon, as well for his Fidelity as for his Wisdome. She had purposed to have sent him into Brittanny to her sonne; but being the Duke of Bucking­ham was the promoter of the businesse, she thought it was fitter to imploy some one of a better quality: she therefore sent unto him Hugh Conway, who with a good summe of Money tooke his way by Plymouth through Cornwall; whilst Sir Richard Gilford sent Thomas Ramney for the same end through Kent; to the effect that if the one should miscarry, the other might doe the worke: but Fortune was so favourable to them, as they differed not many houres in their meeting in Britanny. Their Embassie was: ‘That he was sent for as King, Named thereunto by the Great ones, and desired by All: The marriage agreed upon by the Queene and the Duke of Buckingham: That he should come away with [Page 132] all possible haste, and land in Wales; where he should finde Ayd and Friends sufficient to render himselfe powerfull in an In­stant; both factions being for him.’ The Earle, fashioned out by nature to be King, communicated the businesse to the Duke of Britanny (who after King Edwards death had given him his li­berty) desiring his assistance in so necessary an expedition: he being called in by a free-borne people, profest enemies to the Tyrant, whose cruelty was so detestable to all the world; pro­mising him that if God should so farre favour his cause, (as he well hoped he would) he would be answerable unto him with such Services as befitted an obligation never to be forgotten. Richard had by meanes of his Embassadour Thomas Hutton, yea by the proffer of certaine summes of Money, dealt with the Duke not long before, to keepe him in safe custody: but the Duke de­testing Richards wickednesse, did not onely doe nothing therein, but made good all his promises of Favour to the Earle upon this occasion. So as confident of good successe, he sent Conway and Ramney backe to his mother, with answer that he did accept of the invitation; that as soon as he should have provided things necessary, he would come for England; that in the meane time order might be taken for the affaires there, to the end that he might finde the lesse impediments. Upon the hearing of this, they who sided with him tooke courage, and began to prepare for the businesse. They sent into requisite places people fit to make them good; and disposed of other Commanders in other places, that they might be ready upon occasion: Others under-hand sollicited the people, to the end they might be ready to rise when time should serve. The Bishop of Ely wrote from Flanders to such as he knew hated Richard, promoting the businesse by the sole authority of his Letters. So as though amongst as many as were therein imployed, there was not found one Unfaithfull person, yet the affaire being to passe through so many mouthes, and to come to so many Eares, it was impossible but that some Whispering or confused Notion thereof should reach Richards eares; who judged things the Greater by his not knowing them: for ignorance cannot Obviate, since it doth not foresee. He was not ignorant of his being generally hated; and was not sure that no man out of his owne inclination would discover any thing to Him; so as all his intelligence must proceed from his owne Di­ligence and quicke Foresight. So as placing Spies everywhere, he tooke Armes: and though he knew not which way to bend his course, yet was he in readinesse to march whether necessity should compell him. But such commotions never wanting a prime Ring-leader, he thought the Duke of Buckingham must nee [...]s be the Primum mobile of this: he therefore was of opinion, that the chiefest provisions were to be made against Him; but resolved first, to try him with offers, which if they should not take effect, then to make him an Example to all such as had or should hereafter conspire against him. He sent an expresse messenger to him with [Page 133] Letters full of Courtesie, wherein he desired him to come unto him▪ giving order to the Gentleman that carried them, to promise him he should have what ever he could demand. But these prof­fers, the Larger they were, the more Suspicious were they, and out of time: the Duke would not heare on That eare; he knew Richards nature, and that he had proceeded on like manner with all those he desired to abuse. He therefore desired to be excused, alleaging the indisposition of his Stomacke, which having taken his Appetite quite away, did likewise rob him of his wonted Repose. Richard not herewithall satisfied, wrote to him in termes cleane contrary to the former: he commanded him in a re­proachfull manner, that all delayes and excuses laid side, he would come to him. The which the Duke not being able to digest, and being resolved upon the Rebelion, he forgot all manner of Artifice, and in down-right terme told the Gentle­man that brought the Letter, he would not come: that he estee­med him as an Enemy, and that he had never been befrinded by him. Thus all dissimulation layd aside, they prepar'd for Warre; and advertised their friends, to the end they might raise the People, and make them take Armes. The noise hereof made the Marquesse Dorset sonne to the Queene Dowager, quit the Sanctuary where together with his Mother he was, and goe to Yorkeshire to raise forces. In Devonshire and Cornwall Sir Edward Courtney, and his brother Peter, Bishop of Exceter, did the same: and Sir Richard Gilford, assisted by many other Gentlemen, began the warre in Kent. Richard was not taken at unawares, having formerly provided for himselfe; but this Bore not making any account of these little Beagles (for such he reputed Gilford, Court­ney, and Dorset) he did not disunite his forces, that so he might lead them All against the Duke, who was the chiefe Mastiffe of this Bore-baiting, whom if he should beate, he assured himselfe, he should easily teare the other in pieces. Thus resolved, he tooke his way toward Salisbury, whilst the Duke (who had gotten to­gether an Army of Welshmen, more by Threats and Haughty Demeanour, then by money or faire entertainment) marcht to­wards Gloucester, that he might passe the Severne there, and so joyne himselfe with the two Courtneys, and the rest of their adhe­rents: which could he have done, Richard had been undone. But whilst he marched along with this designe, the Severne, through the extraordinary Raine, had so overflowed its bankes, as that it became not onely impassable, but men had therewithall been surprised by night in their beds, children carried away in their Cradles, and the tops of Hils were covered with waters, so as flockes of sheepe were not there safe. This deluge of raine con­tinued for the space of Ten daies, leaving an unlucky name be­hind, of the great waters of the Duke of Buckingham. He then finding the passage shut up on all sides was enforced to stay a while; whilst his Souldiers almost drowned with Raine, famisht for want of Victuals, and having no Pay, tooke a resolution to [Page 134] disband of themselves: the Duke had no authority to keepe them together, his Intreaties were not heard, his Perswasions were of no efficacy, his promises vaine and unprofitable; insomuch as he was left almost all Alone, not knowing what way to take, or where to save himselfe. He dismissed all his attendance and resol­ved to go neer Shrewsbury to the house of one Humphrey Banister, a servant of his, who having beene beloved by him and well re­warded, he thought he might expect from him such service as by obligation and gratitude he was bound unto; till such time as he might either gather new forces, or passe over into Britanny to the Earle of Richmond. But he failed in his designe; for in this so great necessity, Banister who ought him all the Obligation that one man may owe another, was faulty to him.

The disbanding of his Army being known, and it not known whether he were Alive or Dead, such feare was thereby appre­hended by those of Kent, Devonshire and Cornwall, as laying down their Armes, they thought only how to save themselves, some in­to Sanctuaries, some beyond the Seas. The Bishop of Exeter, his brother Sir Edward Courtney, who was by Henry the 7 th afterwards made Earle of Devonshire, Thomas Gray Marquis of Dorset, the L. Wells, Sir Iohn Bourchier, Sir Edward Woodvile a gallant Souldier, and brother to the Queen Dowager, Sir Robert Willougby, Sir Giles d'Aubeny, Thomas Arundell, Iohn Cheyny, with two of his bro­thers, and Richard Edgcombe, (all of them for the most part Knights) fled into Britanny; and were follow'd by Captaine Iohn Hollow­well and Captaine Edward Poynings. Richard hearing of the Welch­mens retreat, the Dukes flight (it not being known whether, and the rest of the Conspirators designe to save themselves) he sent to all the ports to the end they might not be suffer'd either to come in or go out at any of them; making Proclamation, that whosoever should discover or deliver up into his Hands the Duke of Buck­ingham, if he were under the condition of Villenage he should be enfranchis'd; and if otherwise, together with a generall par­don he should have a Thousand pounds ready money given him. Together with this he made strong preparations at Sea, being as­sured by Thomas Hutton, who had been Embassadour in Britan­ny, that, without all doubt the Earle of Richmond was to be assist­ed by the Duke thereof both with men and monie: hee sent many Ships well furnished with men and Guns to the Coast of Britanny, with intention either to fight with him, or hinder his landing on the English shoare. In other parts he left no place un­provided for; people were not suffer'd to land without diligent search, that so some news might be had of the Duke of Bucking­ham. Banister (into whose hands the Duke had trusted his safety) hearing of the Proclamations, and the Rewards therein promi­sed (were it either for Feare or Avarice) discover'd where he was to the Sheriffe of Shropshire: who going to Banisters house, found the Duke in a Day-labourers apparrell digging in a Garden; in which habit he sent him well guarded to Shrewsbery, where Rich­ard [Page 135] then was. He denyed not the Conspiracy, he hoped by his free confession to have gotten admittance into [...]he Kings Presence; some think with an intention to beg his Pardon; others, to kill the King with a Dagger which he wore underneath his Cloths. But Richard not suffering him to be brought unto him, he was behead­ed on All-soules▪ day without any other manner of Processe, in the Market place. To Banister (the chiefest of all ungratefull Traytors) nothing that was promised was made good: Richard who was unjust in all things else was just in This; denying him the reward of his Disloyalty: which amongst his many Faylings wor­thy of Blame, was the only one worthy of Commendation. Pu­nished thus slightly by man, he received much more greivous punishments from God: his Eldest son died mad; his second of Convulsion fits; his Third son was Drown'd in a Standing poole; and his Daughter a very Beautifull young Woman was crusted over with Leprosy: he himselfe in his later Yeares was convict of Man-slaughter, and condemned to be Hanged, but was saved by his Booke. The Duke was in his death accompained by many others; amongst which, by Sir George Browne, Sir Roger Clifford, and Sir Thomas Saintlieger, who was the last husband to the Dutch­esse of Exeter the Kings sister.

The Earle of Richmond assisted by the Duke of Britanny, had got together five Thousand Britons, and forty Ships furnished for all purposes, wherein he imbarked himselfe and made for Eng­land. But the next night he met with a terrible Tempest which disperst all his Vessells, carrying them into severall places, inso­much as there remained onely One with him, with the which he found himselfe neer the Haven of Poole in Dorsetshire: where he discoverd the shore all over pester'd with men, whereat he was much afraid; for they were placed there to hinder his landing, in like manner as others were sent for the same purpose to other places. He cast Anchor, expecting the arrivall of his Other Ships: he commanded that none should go on shore without His leave, and sent forth a boate to see who those men were: when the boat was come within Hearing, those on shore said they were sent to conduct them to the Duke of Buckingham, that was not far from thence with a great Army, expecting the Earle of Richmond so to give chase to Richard who had but small forces with him, being abandoned almost by All men. But the Earle finding out the co­senage (for had it beene so, they wanted not Boates to have sent some known man abord him) no newes being heard of the rest of his Fleet, and the wind being reasonable faire for him to re turne, he hoisted Saile, and with a fore-winde landed in Norman­dy. Charles the Eight Reigned then in France, his Father Lewis being not long before dead: the Earle was desirous to returne by Land to Britanny, and being to go through France he durst not adventure without a safe conduct: he therefore dispatcht away a Gentleman to the King for one: he was graciously heard by the King; who commiserated the Earles misfortunes, and together [Page 136] with a safe conduct, sent him a good sum of money; by meanes whereof he past safely into Britanny, whether likewise he sent his Ships. But understanding there what ill successe his affaires had in England, how the Duke of Buckingham was dead, and that the Marquis of Dorset with the rest of his companions (who having many dayes expected some news of him in that Court, grew now to dispaire thereof, believing some mischiefe had befalne him, and therefore had withdrawne themselves to Vennes) was come, he was much grieved and tooke this frowne of Fortune at his first be­ginning for an ill Omen: yet was he comforted at the arrivall of his Friends, promising some good to himselfe through their safe­ties. When he was come to Renes, he sent for them and welcomed them with termes of Curtesy and Thankefulnesse. The condition of affaires being well weigh'd, they resolv'd to effect what former­ly had beene but spoken of: to wit, The war against Richard, and his deposing: and the making of Richmond King; upon Condition that he should promise to Marry the Lady Elizabeth Daughter to Edward the Fourth. These Articles were agreed upon and sworne unto by all parties on Christmasse day in the Cathedrall Church of that City; where likewise the Marquis, with all the rest did Homage unto him, as to their actuall King, swearing to serve him Faithfully, and to employ their Lives and Estates in endevouring Richards destruction. The Earle failed not to acquaint the Duke with all these proceedings; and to make knowne unto him the cause why he undertook this businesse, and what he stood in need of to effect it: the cause was; his being sent for, Called in, and Expected; Richards government being growne intolerable: that he stood in Need of was Another Fleet, and supplies of money; he having in setting forth the Former▪ spent all that his Mother had sent him, and what he had gathered amongst his Friends: he therefore desired the Duke to lend him some monies promising (to boote with the never to be forgotten Obligation) sodainly to repay him, when God should have given a blessing to his just en­devours. The Duke was not backward either in Promises or Per­formance: so as the Earle had conveniency of furnishing himselfe with Men and ships; [...]hilst Richard did what he could in England to hinder his designe: though to no purpose, for if God keepe not the City, the Watchman watcheth but in vaine. He in sundry pla­ces, put many who were guilty or suspected to death: and having returned to London, Hee called a Parliament wherein the Earle of Richmond and all that for his cause had forsaken the Land were declared enemies to the King and Kingdome, and had their goods confiscated. They being many and the richest men of the King­dome their confiscations would have beene able to have discharg­ed the Warre against them, had not Richard beene formerly too liberall in his Donatives, thereby endevouring to reconcile mens mindes unto him, and to cancell the uncancellable memory of his cruelty to his Nephews: so as though the Summes were great which hereby accrew'd, yet were they not sufficient; nor did [Page 137] they free him from laying insufferable Taxes upon his people. 'Twas a wonder the Lord Stanley was not in the number of the Proscribed, his Wife Mother to the Earle of Richmond being chief of the Conspiracy: but he freed himselfe from any the least signe of guilt; and Richard seemed not to valve his Wife, least if He should embrue his Hands in the blood of a Lady of so great quali­ty, He might yet more incite the Peoples hatred. He was content­ed shee should be committed to the custody of her Husband, with order that she should be kept in some private place of her House, and that none should be suffered to come to her, who might con­veigh Letters to her Son, or Messages to any Other. He also cau­sed William Collingborne, who had beene High Sheriffe of Wilt­shire and Dorsetshire, to be executed, for having written by way of jeare That a Cot, a Rat, and Lovell the Dog, did Governe England under a Hog: alluding by Cat, to Catesby; by Rat, to Ratcliffe, and by the Dog to the Lord Lovell, who gave the Dog for his Armes, as did Richard the Boare for His: and these three were His chiefest Favourites: Some were of opinion, Hee was put to death for having had Intelligence with the Earle of Rich­mond, and with Marquis Dorset; for hee was convict to have prof­fered Money to a certaine man, to carry Letters into Britanny; wherein Hee perswaded them to come Instantly, and Land at Poole in Dorsetshire, whilst Hee assisted by others would raise the People.

To keepe himselfe from troubles out of Forraine parts, and that He might the bette [...] minde his Home-broyles, Richard thought necessary to hold good intelligence with the King of Scotland, who often troubling Him with Inroades, diverted him from his Home-affaires wherein consisted the preservation of his Life and King­dome. This businesse was treated by Commissioners, who agreed upon a Truce for Three yeares, each of them being to keepe what they were possest of; except the Castle of Dunbarre which was given to King Edward by the Duke of Albany, the last time that Hee fled from Scotland: which the Scots would have restored. And that he might have a double tie upon them, he concluded a Marriage betweene the Duke of Rothsay Prince and He [...]e of Scot­land, and his Neece Anne of Poole Daughter to Iohn Duke of Suffolke, and his Owne Sister Anne, a Lady so affectionately be­loved by him, as his Onely Sonne the Prince of Wales being dead, he made Her Sonne Iohn Earle of Lincolne be proclam­ed heire to the Crowne, disinheriting, of meere hatred; his bro­thers Daughters, and for that having declared them to be Bast­ards, his Owne title was preserved by the continua [...]ce of their such repute. All these precautions did no [...] notwithstanding free his perturbed minde from those furies which leaving their natu­rall habitation, had brought Hell into his Conscience; so as though Buckingham were dead, and so many others Dead and Banisht, yet could not he have any Security: his [...] commit­ed, his deserved Hatred, and the Earle of Richmond, would not [Page 138] suffer him to enjoy any one houres rest. And albeit in his contri­ving how to usurpe the Crowne; hee made no account of Him, whilst his brother liv [...]d, his minde being then fixt upon Henry that had beene King, and was then in Being, yet Times and Persons being changed▪ He likewise changed Opinion: the one being Dead, the other Alive and at Liberty, and who was the onely man that with Right and Justice could do that to Him which he unjustly and against all Right had cruelly done to others. Hee therefore indevour'd againe to have the Earle in his possession, or at least that the Duke of Britanny by bereaving him of his Liber­ty (as he had done in his brother King Edwards time) would secure him from the Mischiefe that might ensue by his comming into England: and not believing he was likely to obtaine a fa­vour of this nature by way of Friendship, much lesse for any Rights sake, he grounded his demands upon the basis of Profit and Interest; the onely meanes to obtaine ones desire from such as have no feeling of Justice. He loaded his Embassadours with Monies and Presents to present unto the Duke: together with Them he offered him Richmondshire, and all the Revenues of the Earle, as likewise all that belonged in England, to all those that were fled over to him into Britanny: the which being very much, would have sufficed to have corrupted any other save Duke Francis the second one of the Noblest and most vertuous Princes that lived in those times, as he was held by all men. This is Arge [...]es his relation, who affirmes hee hath found among the Records of Britanny the grant of this County, together with the Names of the Churches, Monasteries, and Priories there­in: but if the Duke should die without heires of his body, the Reversion should fall▪ to the King. The Embassadours or De­puties (as Hee [...] them) could not have accesse unto the Duke, being come to a season that He was beside Himselfe an infirmity He was often subject unto)▪ whereupon they made their adresses to Peter Landais, who had power to dispose of the Prince and State as He pleased. The large sums of English money made him listen to what they propounded: his base minde (not va­luing Honour) made him accept of the Offer, but not in such manner as it was propounded. For He being the man that was to deliver up the Earle (the Duke not being in condition either to yeild him, or to detaine Him) He would have Richmondshire to himselfe; whereupon many Messengers were sundry times dis­patcht for England, which was the Earles safety: for these practises being discovered in England, and the Bishop of Ely being adve [...]tised in [...], He speedily gave the Earle notice there­of advising him immediately to depart from thence, for that He was bought and sold betweene Richard and those who were of chiefe authority in that State; so as if He did not sodainely save himselfe▪ He would fall into his enemies hands. The Earle re­ceived this advertisement when▪ He was at Vennes, from whence hee sent [...] France [...] a safe-conduct, which was by the King [Page 139] thereof without delay sent him: and it being impossible to save Himselfe and all his Partakers, at the same time, he feigned to send the Lords that were with him to visit the Duke at Rennes; gi­ving order to the Earle of Pembroke, who conducted them, that when they should be upon the Confines, He should immediate­ly quit the Countrey; as he did: whilst He himselfe, feigning two dayes after to visit a friend of his not farre from Vannes, got on horse-back, waited on onely by Five servants; and when He was entred the Wood, He put on one of His servants Coates and got by By-wayes out of the State, and arrived at Aniou whether the Earle of Pembroke with the rest were, but long before, come. His escape was the easier in that it was not suspected; having left above three Hundred English, all of His Retinue behinde him in Vennes; otherwise it would have gone ill with Him: For Pe­ter had already raised people, and appointed Commanders over them, who were within three dayes to have beene at Vennes to have detained Him; hearing (by what meanes I cannot tell) of his Departure, he dispatched so speedily after Him, as those who had the Commission to stay Him, got to the uttermost bounds of Britanny not above an Houre after He was gone out of them. The Duke, being this time returned to His perfect sence, was displeased hereat, thinking this might redound to his Dishonour: He chid Landais; and commanded that all the English that were left in Vennes should be suffered to depart, making them to be defrayed not onely whilst they were in His State, but till they came to their Master; to whom He likewise sent the Money He had promised, by Edward Woodvile and Edward Poinings two English Gentlemen: for the which the Earle returned Him ma­ny Thankes; saying, He should not be at quiet till Fortune had befriended Him with some meanes whereby in some sort to re­quite His infinite Obligation to the Duke▪ by whose favour on­ly He lived. King Charles was then at Langres; whither the Earle went to Him and acquainted Him with the reason of His flight from Britanny, and how the Nobility and People of England had sent for Him to free them from Richards tyranny. Hee in­treated his assistance; which was not hard to obtaine from so ge­nerous a Prince as Hee was, against one who for his notorious wickednesse was abhorred by all men. The King bad him be of good comfort, promised to assist him, and brought him on his way to Montargis, treating the Lords that were with him with hospitality becomming a King; whilst thus he was ordering his affaires, Fortune, the better to encourage him, sent unto him a man, not onely forgotten but who was little better then thought dead; Iohn Vere, Earle of Oxford, who after the Battell at Bar­net, had gotten into Scotland, from thence to France, and from thence had made himselfe Master of Saint Michales Mount in Co [...]wall: where being besieged, and yeilding up the place, King Edward had sent him prisoner. This Noble-man had so farre prevailed with Sir Iames Blunt Captaine of that Fort, and Sir Iohn [Page 140] Fortescue Porrer of Callis, that he did not onely obtaine his liber­ty, but got them to forsake their commands, and go along with him to put themselves under the conduct of the Earle of Rich­mond. But Blunt having left his Wife and all his goods in Hammes, he fortified it compleately, and added to the usuall garison an extraordinary number of Souldiers, to the end that if they should be besieged they might defend themselves till Fortune had tur­ned her back upon Richard. The Earle tooke this unexpected Liberty of the Earle of Oxford as a good augury: for being of Noble Blood, of esteemed valour, of praise-worthy constancy, (having beene alwayes a sider with the House of Lancaster) one in whom vertues disputed for precedency, in whom wisdome and valour were rivalls; he thought God had given him his Li­berty at this so necessary time, that hee might assist him. The King being returned to Paris, the Earles retinue increased; all that were fled from England, as well as all the English that were in those parts, either as Schollers in the Universities, or retur­ning from their Travells, flockt unto him: amongst which one Richard Fox a Secular Priest, a man of very good parts, who was shortly after advanced to great places and dignities.

Richard this meane while was not wanting to Himselfe; his spirits were bent upon his Owne Preservation, and the preserva­tion of the Crowne which hee unworthily wore: and though he saw both Heaven and Earth conspired against him, yet hee thought by his own Wil nesse to make his party good in despight of them both. But when he understood the Earle was fled out of Britanny, he was much amazed; his safety consisted in his hopes of having Him in his power, vvhich now fayling him he began to feare: his enemies forces consisted novv of both the factions; for by the Match vvith the Princesse Elizabeth, he had united the faction of Yorke to his owne of Lancaster; so as the claime of Yorke falling upon him by his Marrying the right Heire, he vvas sure to meet vvith great Opposition: His onely remedy vvas to breake the Match; but barely to breake it vvas not enough: he must do more, and by fore-casting the vvorst, do vvhat vvas best for Him. He thought how to strengthen himselfe by the same pretences, notwithstanding his being therein opposed, by the Laws, Blood and Enmity; he vvould marry his Neece: Incest vvould serve but as a Laurell to crowne all other his abominati­ons: He could easily vvithout any scruple rid himselfe of his pre­sent Wife: His conscience vvas so stecled over as it could not suf­fer compunction: As for the opinion of the World, vvho re­gards not Honour, values not shame: His subjects hatred vvas not to be respected; so long as with a Rod of Iron he could keepe them in obedience. That vvhich he pitcht upon vvas, Deceit, Slaughter, and Incest: for Deceit; vvith Allurements and faire Promises to sweeten the Queene Mothers distastes; and thereby to make vvay for the other two; his Wives Death, and his Marriage vvith his Neece. ‘He chose people fit for this of­fice. [Page 141] They excused what was past; they made her believe the King was much troubled for his much beloved Neeces: that he was sorry they should make themselves voluntary prisoners, that they mistrusted the naturrall inclination and love of an Unkle, who, as if he were their Father thought of nothing but their Good: That his chiefest desire was to treate them accord­ing to their Birth and his Affection: to have them in Court; to finde out good Husbands for them, and see them well be­stowed: and that if it should be his fortune to lose his Wife (whose indispositions were such as there was no great hope of her Life) his resolution was to make the Princesse Elizabeth his Queene: that the Neerenesse of Bloud would prove no impediment; Lawes were not without some Exceptions, and were to be dispenced withall, when the Necessity of the State, the Quiet of the Kingdome, and the Peoples safety did require it: They forgate not the Marquis Dorset promising him Moun­taines of Gold if he would returne to England: they shewed how the way he was in was dangerous; that he should rather hope upon a fortune already made, then to be made; that old wayes were plaine, and sure; New ones, slippery and Preci­pitious.’ These men with these and the like conceptions knew so advantageously to behave themselves, that the Queene at the very first Onset gave them Hearing, and began to Melt; and at the second, gave consent to All that the King desired: forget­ing her sonnes deaths, her Husbands Infamy, who was divulged to be a Bastard; her own shame, her marriage being in the Pul­pit said to be Adulterous, she a Concubine, and her Daughters illegitimate; and (which most imported) the Promise she had made to the Countesse of Richmond concerning the Marriage of her eldest daughter sealed with an Oath: All these things were to her as if they never had beene: Ambition so farre prevailed with her, as to make her faulty to her owne Honour, to the safe­ty of her Daughters, to the Generosity of her past actions, and to her conscience; not regarding Oathes when put in balance with the Perswasions of him, vvho had alwayes done her mischiefe. Being thus abused shee dispatcht away a Messenger to her Son Dorset, vvho vvas in France, commanding him that he should leave the Earle and come for England; telling him that all past injuries vvere forgotten, and forgiven, and were to be repair [...]d with Honours and Preferments; for that the King desired nothing more then how to give him satisfaction. Richard having obtained the First of his three designes (having reconciled his Sister in Law, and his Neeces being come to the Court, where they were by him with great Solemnity received) the other Two remained: the Second would bee imperfect without the Third; and the Third vvas impossible without the Second: Hee could not marry his Neece, except his VVife were dead; upon this therefore hee wholly bent his thoughts, Hee considered that by putting her to a Violent death hee might [Page 142] alienate his peoples hearts, which hee somewhat gained upon by his hypocriticall proceedings, which made them believe he was changed in life and disposition: so as a Relapse would prove dangerous to him, and make him not to be believed in what for the future he was to counterfeit. He lighed upon a meanes ne­ver dreamt of any Divell in Hell: that Griefe, Melancholy, and Feare, might joyntly worke that effect in her without Scandall, which Sword nor Poyson could not doe but with Scandall. He forbare her bed, nor would he Speake with her; not onely deny­ing her his Company, but his Sight: He began to bewaile his mis­fortune, in that he had a wife that was Barren, who would beare him no Children; a curse which did so wound his Soule, as it would in short time cost him his Life: he made knowne this his great sorrow to the Archbishop of Yorke, whom he had newly set at liberty, being sure he would acquaint his wife with it, and hoping it might worke the Effect he desired. The Arch­bishop, who was a wise man, and very well knew Richards dis­position, spake hereof with some of his most intimate friends, judging the unfortunate Ladies life to be of no long durance. The King shortly after made it to be noised abroad that she was Dead, to the end her death when it should happen, might be the lesse strange, mens eares being accustomed thereunto; and he made the bruite of her death arrive at her owne eares: all this was done, in hope that the violence of Griefe would kill her; or if not, that he might with the lesse Noise make her away, who had been so Often thought Dead. The Queen, who was a Tender Lady, and not able to resist so many machinations, was hereat much dismayde, knowing that Tempests use to follow Thunder, especially in so perverse a Climate as that of her Husbands: she ran much afflicted to him, to know wherein she had so Highly offended him, as that he thought her not onely wor­thy of his Hatred, which was apparently seene, but of the Pu­nishment which being to befall her, the world thought her dead Already? His answer was pleasant in words, but of sad Sense, mingled with Smiles, which gave her more cause of Suspition then of Comfort. She went backe to her owne lodgings, where not many daies after she departed this life: whether of Griefe or Poyson, it is not certaine; those who judge by likelihood, thinke the last. This Princesse was borne under an unhappy Constellation, as well in respect of her Selfe, as of those who did any waies appertaine unto her. She was daughter to Richard Nevill Earle of Warwicke and Salisbury, a Peere of greatest Power and Repute that ever England had; her Grand-father was be­headed, her Father and her Unkle were slaine in the battell at Barnet; her Nephevv, Son to her Sister the Dutchesse of Cla­rence vvas beheaded by Henry the Seventh; and her Neece his Sister, by Henry the Eighth, both her Husbands came to vio­lent ends; the First, Sonne to Henrys the sixt, slaine by this her second Husband; and He by others (as wee shall shortly see). [Page 143] She was in her Life time bereft of the onely sonne she had by him. Lastly, as for her owne death what ever it was, it could not but be happy for Her, she being thereby freed from the hands of so cruell a Monster.

Two of Richards designes being obtained, the Third yet re­mained, his marriage with his Neece. He began to make love unto her, but it was not love that troubled him (though he would have it so believed) hee was troubled with thoughts of another nature: To see so many of the prime Nobility fled into France to the Earle of Richmond, to see himselfe so nauseous to his People, as they were ready to vomit him out, and that the Conspiracy Discovered, but not Extinct, had made the Con­spirators the more wary; these were the businesses which exclu­ded his feyned love; love being fed by Idlenesse, Delights, and want of other affaires whereon to imploy ones thoughts. He was jealous of none more then the Lord Stanley, father in law to the Earle: his brother Sir William Stanley, Gilbert Talbot, and hundreds of others did not so much trouble him as did He alone: insomuch as this Lord Stanley being desirous to returne to his Countrey-house, under pretence of some domesticall affaires, (but in effect, that hee might be ready at the arrivall of his sonne in Law whom he daily expected) he would not suffer himto goe, unlesse hee would leave his Eldest sonne George Stanley in Court, reputing him a sufficient hostage for his Fathers loyalty.

When he understood of Blunts rebellion, how that the Earle of Oxford had escaped out of prison; and how that Both of 1485. them having betaken themselves to the Earle of Richmond, they had delivered up unto him the Castle of Hammes; hee gave order to have it besieged by the garrison of Calais; and Rich­mond sent the Earle of Oxford with a great many Souldiers to raise the siege; who having encamped himselfe not farre from the Besiegers, passed Thomas Brandon with Thirty commanded men into the Town, which so encouraged the Besieged, as that the Enemy being shot at, at the same time, from the Town, from the Castle, and from Oxfords campe, offered a Blanke paper, into which they might enter what Conditions they pleased, so as they would surrender up the place. The Earle of Oxford who consi­dered that the possession of Hammes was not of any consequence to the getting of the Kingdome, which they were in pursuit of; and that it was succoured onely out of a desire to save the Garrison, and Iames Blunts wife, together with their Goods, willingly surrendred up the place; taking from thence the Men, Munition, Victuals, Cannon, and all that was there of any value, which he brought all safe to Ba [...]is.

Richard was so puft up with this appearance of victory, as he believed that to be true, which was falsely informed him: That he Earle of Richmond, weary of the large promises made him by Charles to assist him with Powerfull succours, was faine [Page 144] to content himselfe with very small ones, in which he likewise found himselfe to be abused. Whereupon thinking his men of warre upon the Narrow Seas, and the troops of men he had dispo­sed upon the Sea-coasts, to be superfluous, he recalled his ships, and disbanded his men: judging that the Nobility which inhabi­ted the maritine parts (particularly those of Wales) were sufficient to take order that the enemy should not land unfought withalland unbeaten.

The information which was given to Richard, though in effect it was false, yet it bare with it so many likelyhoods of Truth, as were sufficient to make him believe that the Earle of Richmond, abandoned by Charles, was not likely to trouble him with any forces he should receive from Him; and this was the occasion: Charles being in his Fourteenth yeere of age under the govern­ment of his Sister Anne, wife to Peter of Bourbon, Lord of Beau-ieu; and according to the Ordinance of Charles the fifth his predecessour, free from Guardian-ship; the Princes of the Blood did notwithstanding aspire to the Regency, under pre­tence of the weaknesse of his Constitution, and of his being ill brought up, he having till then been onely brought up in Childish sports, not being taught so much as to Read. The pretenders hereunto were, the Duke of Orleans first Prince of the Blood, and Peter of Bourbon in his wifes right, she being thereunto na­med by the late Lewis: and great troubles were likely here­upon to have ensued, had not the State, by committing the Kings person (according to his fathers will) to his sisters custo­dy, determined that the Kingdome should have no Regent, but should be governed by the Counsell of State, composed of Twelve personages, to be chosen for their worth and Qua­lity. So as France being in this condition, the Earle could not obtaine what was promised him, since it was not the King Alone that could effect it; and the Twelve, though willing to assist him found many Difficulties therein, but were especially hindred, through feare of a Civill warre within them­selves.

At the same time the Marquesse Dorset attempted to escape away; his Mothers advertisements, which filled him with high hopes, and the rubbes he saw the Earle met withall made him tacke about, and side with Richard. He went out of Paris se­cretly by night, taking his way for Flanders, that from thence hee might passe into England: but the Earle being informed thereof, and having gotten leave from the King to stop him wheresoever he should be found, sent into all parts after him, and Humphrey Chenie had the fortune to light upon him, who with Perswasions and faire Promises brought him backe: other­wise he might have proved very prejudiciall to them, for hee knew the very bottome of all their designes. But this chance made the Earle very much apprehend, that through delay he might either Lose or Ruine his friends; he therefore judged it neces­sary [Page 145] to attempt that with a Few which he could not with Many. He borrowed money of the King, and many others, to whom he left as in pawne Sir Iohn Bourchier and the Marquesse Dorset, whom hee did not assie in, to have him neere him. Thus ha­ving assembled together certaine Souldiers, hee went to Roan, expecting there till the ships came to Harfleur which were to carry him over. Here he understood of the death of King Ri­chards wife, how he had resolved to marry his neece, who by her mother was promised unto Him; and that Cecilie the Second daughter was married (which was false) to one of so base con­dition as his pedegree was not knowne: hereat hee was much troubled, as were likewise all the Lords that were with him; since the hopes which they had built unto themselves upon the Yorkish faction were vanished by vertue of the aforesaid mar­riage. Consultation was held what was to be done; it was judged a rash resolution to undertake so dangerous a businesse with such a Handfull of people: The resolutions which they pitcht upon were; not to stirre till they should have new advertisements from beyond the Seas; and to entice over to their party Sir Walter Herbert, a Gentleman of a great fa­mily, and of a great power in Wales, promising that the Earle should marry His sister; and to send a Gentleman to the Earle of Northumberland, who had married the Other sister; to the end that he might negotiate the businesse. But nothing ensued hereon; for finding the passage shut up, the messenger returned not doing any thing.

But having much about the same time received Letters from Morgan Ridwell, a Lawyer and a Confident of his, with newes that Sir Rice ap Thomas and Captaine Savage, two men of great retinue in Wales, would declare themselves for him; and that Reynald Bray had in his possession great summes of money to pay the Souldier; so as he should doe well to make haste, and land in Wales, since delay might be prejudiciall to him: hee tooke shipping on the fifteenth of August, having but a few ships and two thousand Souldiers with him. In seven daies space he lan­ded at Milford-haven in Wales; from whence passing on to Dale, (a place wherein all Winter long troopes of Souldiers had beene kept to hinder his landing) he went to West-Hereford, where he was entertained with all sort of content by the inhabitants. Here he understood that Sir Rice ap Thomas and Captaine Savage had declared themselves for Richard, which if it had beene true, the businesse had beene ended. Upon such like occasions diversity of Newes useth to be spread abroad, good or bad according as people hope or suspect. Those who were with him were much amated at this, till they were comforted with a later advertise­ment. Arnold Butler a very valiant Commander, and one that in former times had been no great well-wisher to the Earle, gave him to understand, that those of Pembrokeshire were ready to obey Iasper Earle of Pembroke, his unkle and their naturall Lord: [Page 146] that therefore he might make use of this advantage: the Earle being herewithall encouraged, marched on to Cardigan, his camp increasing every houre, by people which flocked unto him. But here he heard newes againe that Sir Walter Herbert (he whose sister the Earle had thought to have married) was in Caermar­then, with intention to oppose him; the which did much af­fright him, for hee did thinke to finde him an enemy; so as whilst they betake themselves to their Armes, with an inten­tion to fight with him, the Scouts who were sent before to discover the Countrey, returned with newes that there was no enemy to be seen, the Countrey being open, free, and voyd of Opposition. This contentment was augmented by the comming of Richard Griffith, and Iohn Morgan, with a great many figh­ting men: and though Griffith was a confederate of Sir Walter Herberts, and of Rice ap Thomas (of whose inclinations he was doubtfull) yet the Earle forbare not to march on, fighting with, and beating as many as opposed him, that hee might leave no enemies behind him. But seeing himselfe reduced to such termes as he was not to hope for safety but by victory, it be­ing impossible for him to Retreate; and that Sir Walter Herbert and Rice ap Thomas drawing neere him, to hinder his pas­sage, hee could not without more helpe make any long resi­stance; he wrote to his Mother, to his Father in Law, and his Father in Lawes brother, and to Sir Gilbert Talbot: ‘That being come upon Their Advice into England, it was Their Aydes that must sustaine him; for he having but a Few peo­ple with him, if hee were Once defeated, hee was defeated for Ever: That the Countrey hee was to passe over, was of a great Length: That reason required hee should passe the Severne at Shrewsbury, to come to London: That they should thinke how to succour him in Time; otherwise their succours would be too Late for Him, and Ruinous for Themselves: That their communication being necessary for his Counsels, they should come Suddenly, least Delay might marre All: That Temporizing was the Ruine of Designes: That if Dis­simulation had been requisite till Now, it was now no more So, but Harmefull: for that thereby those who yet had cou­rage would be disheartned.’This dispatch being sent away by a faithfull servant, he resolved to fight with whoever should oppose him: it was the onely way to worke his ends; Regality was not to be had but by Regall valour. Hee tooke his way towards Shrewsbury, and in his march met with Rice ap Thomas, who with a considerable number of Welshmen swore Fealty to him, the Earle having two daies before promised to make him President of Wales, as soone as hee should be King, (which ac­cordingly hee did.) Being come to Shrewsbury hee met with an answer from his Mother and the Others, according to his desire. From thence hee past on to Newport, where Sir Gilbert Talbot with two thousand men came to meet him; as likewise [Page 147] did Sir William Stanley at Stafford, where hee made some stay to refresh his people. Sir William after he had a long time con­sulted with the Earle, returned to his Troopes, which being defrayed by his brother, were not farre of. The next day hee came to Litchfield, where being come by Night, hee lay in the Field; and the next day was by the Townesmen received into the City as their Prince. The Lord Stanley had been there two daies before with his Souldiers, and was gone from thence to make way for the Earle, and that he might not be seene in his company: he was cautelous in what he did by reason of his Sonne who was left Hostage with Richard, and who otherwise would have lost his life.

Richard (who at this time was at Nottingham) knew of the Earles arrivall; but with such a relation of his inconsiderable forces, as he made no Account of him. He thought he was come onely with those who had fled to him from England, and that his Forces consisted meerly of Banisht men, who growne despe­rate, betooke themselves to their last refuge: as for others, he perswaded himselfe there would not be any one that durst de­clare himselfe for him: so as the rashnesse of a desperate man was not worthy his trouble: hee thought it would be beneath Him to take Notice of him; and that Sir Walter Herbert and Rice ap Thomas were sufficient of Themselves either to beate him, or to make him ignominiously surrender himselfe. But afterwards well weighing the Consequences, hee was of another minde: his affaires appeared to be in a condition not to be trusted to Other mens directions, by reason of his being so generally Ha­ted; and the wicked meanes used in his usurping of the Crowne. He therefore thought it not safe for him to confide in Others; and having a Scrutiny of such as were most Interressed in the preservation of his Person and Dignity, from out the not many he chose Iohn Duke of Norfolke, the Earle of Northumberland, and the Earle of Survey; giving them Commission to gather to­gether the best and most trusty of such as did depend upon them, and come unto him: and he gave order to Robert Brackenbury Lieutenant of the Tower, that he should raise all the force hee could, and bring along with him as his companions in Armes Sir Thomas Bourcher and Sir Walter Hungerford; not for that hee expected any service from them, but that being jealous of them, he feared lest they might conspire against him. All these his foresights did not satisfie him, when hee understood the Earle had past the Severne. He then began to mistrust his affaires, and to complaine of those who had promised to defend the pas­sage: Now it was that he saw his businesse was not to be trusted to any Third party; and growing to distrust all men, he went himselfe in Person in the head of his Army to give him battell: executing Himselfe the duty of a Sergeant Major. He came by night to Leicester upon a white Steede, environed by his Guards and great number of Foot, with a staring and threatning Coun­tenance [Page 148] answerable to the speeches hee uttered against such as forsaking Him, had denied him to be their King; or who by abandoning him Hereafter, were to doe so. The Earle hea­ring of his approach, encamped himselfe neere to Tamworth, where in the mid-way hee was met by Sir Thomas Bourcher and Sir Walter Hungerford, who fearing Richard, had privately stolne from Brackenburies forces. The like from Other parts did di­vers personages of good condition; who it may be would have proved his Enemies, had not their Hatred to Richard moved them to take part with Him. Yet this Concourse of people wherewith hee ought to have been comforted, freed him not from the much melancholy caused by the Lord Stanley, who kept farre from him, and in a posture (as it appeared) rather to be Doubted of then Hoped in. As hee rode thus pensively in the Reare of his Troopes, hee was so transported with sad thoughts, that hee was not aware how hee was left behind, with not above twenty Horse with him: the Army being passed on, and having encamped it selfe, whilst hee through the Ob­scurity of the Night had lost the Tract thereof. He wandred up and downe a good while, hoping to meet with some of them, or to heare their noise; but neither Finding nor Hea­ring any thing of them, hee got into a little Village, fearing lest hee might be knowne, taken, and carried to the Enemy: and not daring to aske the Inhabitants any questions, hee con­tinued in these feares till the Breake of Day; whilst his campe was more troubled then Hee, not dreaming that hee had Lost his Way, but fearing some strange Misfortune had befalne him. 'Twas his good lucke not to meet with any enemy: but when hee was come to his Army, hee did not tell them that hee had lost his way through Musing or Carelesnesse, but that he stayed purposely behinde to Speake with some hee had received ad­vantageous advices. From hence he went to finde out the Stan­leys, who with their Militia were quartered in Aderston; hee understood the falshood of his suspition; and how that the Lord Stanley could not openly declare himselfe for Him, till the very last Up-shot, for feare lest his Sonne might suffer for it: after divers consultations it was resolved to give Battell, if Richard would accept it. At his returne he found Sir Iohn Sa­vage, Sir Brian Stamford, and Sir Simon Digby, who having left the King, were come with their forces to serve Him. Both sides were equally inclined to fight; moved thereunto out of their Severall feares; Richard, of being abandoned; the Earle, that his followers might grow weary, either by the Incommodities they might suffer, or by their Expences; since hee had no Au­thority but what they of Free will gave him. But Richards condition was by much the worse of the two, for still Some or Other fled from him; so as seeking out a fit place to fight in, hee encamped himselfe neere a Village called Bosworth, not farre from Leicester, where having refreshed his people hee [Page 149] prepared to fight. They say that the night preceding he in his sleepe had certaine strange fearefull Apparitions that he be­lieved to be Divels, which troubling him, broke his sleepe, leaving him so affrighted, as every one wondred at it: where­upon he who had alwaies wont to appeare Chearefull in fight, thought that if now any Sadnesse should be discovered in him, it would be accounted Cowardise; and that therefore it was ne­cessary for him to tell his Dreame. Hollingshead layes this to his sting of Conscience, the which as it is credible, so is it incredible that when a man drawes neere his End, hee is by some internall motions admonished thereof.

Day being come, Richard drew forth his Troopes, putting them into such a figure as for terrour sake might make the grea­test shew. Hee made the Rankes of the Vantguard very long, which was commanded by the Duke of Norfolke, and his Sonne the Earle of Surrey: hee Himselfe led on the Second, wherein were the choicest and best armed men; and which was guar­ded on the Flankes by the Horse, and on the Front by Bow­men. For all his Boasts their whole number was but very Small, not worthy to have decided the controversie for a private Castle, muchlesse a Kingdome. But it behoved him to ha­sten; as well for that His Forces were by much greater then the Earles; as likewise, if hee should have Tarried expecting More, hee might have runne hazzard of Losing those he had: for Savage, Stamford, and Digby had carried along with them a great many fighting men. The Lord Stanley stood as stickler betweene them, who having taken his stand betweene the two Armies with three thousand Souldiers, afforded Hopes and Feares to them Both: for being desired by his Sonne in Law that hee would come to take the care of Ordering and Commanding his men, his answer was: Let him doe that of­fice Himselfe; hee would come when he should see conveni­ent time: and to Richard (who swore by the passion of Jesus Christ, that if hee came not over to him, hee would cut off his Sonnes head before Dinner) hee answered: Let him use his pleasure; howsoever I have More Sonnes. This ambi­guity was notwithstanding his Sonne Stranges safety; for Ri­chard having commanded that hee should be beheaded, hee suspended the Order; not so much in that hee was Advised thereunto (it being time to Fight, not to play the Execu­tioner) as that hee feared lest Stanleys Cloud which threat­ned a Tempest might shoure downe upon Him; as it did, in a season when hee could not with danger to the other avoyd it. The young Strange did for all this account himselfe as a Dead man, being assigned over a prisoner to those who kept the Tent Royall: and certainely hee had suffered death, had not God saved his Life by the Kings Death. The Earle was not troubled at his Father in Law's answer: Hee ordered his [Page 150] Souldiers. Hee placed the Bow-men in the Front, under the Conduct of the Earle of Oxford: hee gave Sir Gilbert Talbot charge over the Right-wing; and Sir Iohn Savage command o­ver the Left: Hee kept for Himselfe and His Unkle the Earle of Pembroke a good proportion of Horse, but few Foot: with intention to joyne with the Troopes which were kept as a Reserve, to come in and succour where need should require. All his Forces exceeded not the number of five thousand, and his Father in Law had not with him above three thou­sand; Richard having Twice as many men as Both they put together. The One and the Other of them made long Spee­ches to their Souldiers. Richard had much adoe to colour over his Cruelties, which not being to be Denied, hee slub­ber'd them over, not naming them; hoping thereby to get Absolution. For what remained hee said, ‘That hee had governed the Kingdome by meanes of their Advice and Va­lour: Hee had punished such as were Seditious and Rebels according to their Merits; hee hoped to doe the like upon the same occasion: Hee held the Crowne of Them, 'twas They that ought to make it good unto him: An unknowne Welshman contended with him for it, begotten by a Fa­ther lesse knowne then Himselfe; whose Forces consisted of Banished Delinquents, and certaine Britons and begger­ly French, come to plunder their Goods, ravish their Wives, and kill their Children: A better occasion then this could not be met withall, wherein to exercise their Valour, and to grow angry without Sinne or Offending God; since thereby they were made ministers of his Justice, and their Owne Revengers, for which they should be prai­sed of all Nations: As concerning victory, it was not to be Doubted; since they were to fight against a Handfull of two sorts of people so often Overcome, of which these were the very Scumme, led on by Necessity, appearance, and Num­ber; a number notwithstanding so Small as would make up the third part of Them: for Himselfe; hee promised all that could be expected from a generous Prince, and a Valiant Commander; which the Effects should Witnesse; for he resolved not to quit the field till either Conquerour or Dead.’

The Earle on the Other side, being got to the highest part of his Campe ‘pleaded the Justice of his Cause; shewing how necessary the Extirpation of so cruell and monstrous a Tyrant was, for Publique and Private good: That there was not a more praise-worthy action, nor more conforma­ble to whatsoever Law, then to punish Him who having destroyed his Owne house, by the Effusion of so Innocent Blood, and Defamed it with so False defamations, had Slaine, impoverished, and brought to an ill end so many [Page 151] of the Nobility, onely out of a desire to Tyrannize: For what concerned Himselfe, hee would say nothing; from whom the lawfull inheritance was usurped, which had been so long possessed by the house of Lancaster; all whose Kings had been men of Reputation in the World, and of Glory to the Kingdome; and if there were any thing amisse in the Last, they were not his Faults, but superabundant Good­nesse abused by wicked people: It was to be believed, that their adversary Outwardly assailed by Their forces, and In­wardly by his Owne faults, must needs fall; since Gods judgements the Longer they are in comming they fall the Heavier, the weight of Heavens scourge being (according to the orders of Divine justice) inevitable: It was not to be endured, that to the excesse of so many enormities, In­cest should be added; the Onely sinne remaining for him to have runne through the whole Catalogue of wickednesse: That he pretended to marry his Neece the Princesse Eliza­beth, to honest by some colourable Title, his unlawfull pos­session of the Crowne; the which being due to Him, as one­ly true Heire, and therewithall the said Princesse (who was promised to him in marriage) 'twould be great errour in Them to permit either the One or the Other: That since God had freed him from so many Treacheries, beene gra­cious to him, in suffering him quietly to passe the Seas, to be peacefully received in England, and brought to confront His and the Common Enemy, hee would not be now wan­ting to worke the confusion of that Enemy, through Their valour; since hee makes use of Good men to punish the Wic­ked: Their rewards were to be Great, all goods Confisca­ble should speedily be distributed by Him, who was to be Judge of each mans valour and desert: They ought not to be terrified at their owne Small numbers, and the Many of the Enemy; for as divine Justice was the first argument of Victory, so those people which they saw were led on by the Lord Stanley, were all for Them; as likewise were many Others, who now appearing under the Enemies Colours would in the heate of the battell shew themselves Friends. For Himselfe; hee promised all that could be expected from a Souldier, and Commander; He desired them onely to Imi­tate Him in what belonged to the Souldier; that whilst hee fought, They should fight; and when Hee should forbeare to fight, that then they should Forsake him: The summe of all his considerations and reasons were; That as the Victory con­sisted in their Valour, so if they should be Failing to them­selves, were to fall under the power of an Enemy, who not being to be parallel'd for Cruelty, 'twas better for them to Die Honourably with Sword in Hand, then Ignominiously to Lan­guish under a Tyrant, that had not forborne his owne Nephews.’ [Page 152] This being said, vvith a Confident heart, and vvith Cheerefull countenance he gave on upon the Enemy, and vvas as cheerefully follovved by his men.

Richard fared otherwise: no Jollity was observed in his march nor yet willingnesse, save in such whose fortunes depended up­on His: all the rest were wavering and divided into Three seve­rall opinions; some thought to side with the Earle, some with him of the two who should Overcome, and some, neither with the One nor the Other, but to be meere Lookers-on. Richard being now King found like loyality in his subjects, as whilest He was a subject, he used to the King his Nephew.

There stood between the two Armies a piece of marish ground with some causey waies that had beene made for the conveniency of Passengers; and though the season (it being the 22 of Au­gust) had hardened it, yet the Earle, knowing the situation there­of to be for his purpose, to secure his small number on that side, he hastened to be first Master thereof: and having it on his right hand hee wonne the Sunne, which was in face of the Enemy; who advancing, the fight beganne. The Earle of Oxford being himselfe so farre advanced that hee was in danger to be cut off, commanded his men not to stirre Ten foote from their Colours: whereupon They forbearing to fight, that they might close to­gether; the Kings Vantguard did the like, being desirous ei­ther Not to fight, or that the victory might be theirs against whom they were Enforced to fight. But Oxford being returned to his charge, returned to Handy blowes. At the joyning toge­ther of the two Armies, their severall inclinations were quickly seene: those of the Kings side that Fought fought Faintly; and those who fought Not, withdrew themselves, and forsooke the Campe. The King had commanded those he most relied on, to have a care that businesses might be carried without Disorder, and that they should advertise him of any Danger that should ap­peare; These seeing how some were Negligent, and how o­ther some withdrew themselves, advised him to save himselfe, judging that hee was betrayed. But Divine Justice would not suffer him to listen to such advice; no not when Victory appear­ing evidently on the Adversaries part, they presented him with a Fleet horse whereon to escape: the which hee would not do saying, That that day was to terminate either the Warre or his Life. Understanding afterwards that the Earle was not farre from him guarded but with a few Gens de Armes, hee spur'd on towards him and knowing him by some markes, hee ranne at him with his Lance in Rest; the Earle was not displeased with the encounter, judging it the true way to decide their controver­sy: but he could not meet him hand to hand, being thwarted by some of his owne men. They gave against the Standard, slew Sir William Brandon the Standard bearer, and advancing for­wards, Sir Iohn Cheiney stopt his passage, whom hee bare to the [Page 153] ground, though hee were a Gentleman of much strength and va­lour. The Earle with his Sword in hand stopped his fury, at the very instant when the Lord Stanley investing the Kings squa­drons afforded occasion to such as had a minde thereunto to run­away: the which when Richard perceived, hee left the Earle, and thrust himselfe into the thickest of the fight, either to re­unite his owne men, or die the sooner: the later of which be­fell him; for fighting valiantly, he fell with his Sword in hand all besmear'd with blood. All things made for victory on the Earles behalfe, to counterpoise the smalnesse of his numbers: in himselfe, Prudence, Diligence, and Valour; in those that sided with him, Despaire of safety if they should lose the day, and the Regaining of their Goods, Countrie, and Honours, if they should Overcome. But all this was not likely to have suffi­ced; for the Kings desperate valour, who encouraging by his example, kept his men in their duties, had brought the enemy in the two houres space which the battell endured to such a passe, as being but few and out of breath, they began to give back: whereupon if the Lord Stanley (who kept himselfe to decide the day) had not come in to succour, they were likely, all of them, to be lost. We have hitherto spoken ill of Richard, though not so ill as he deserved: yet now wee must say, That though he lived ill, he dyed well, according to the esteeme of humane generosity. His end bore with it heroicall effects: Wis­dome and Fortitude were two lights which if they did not illu­minate the actions of his past Life, they did illustrate his pre­sent Death. When he saw himselfe abandoned by all; that those who yet stayd by him, served against their wills; but very few willingly; hee thought it would be base in him and prejudiciall for him to runne away, since thereby he should lose his repu­tation with the People, whereon his welfare did depend. He therefore resolved to do his uttermost; for should hee Over­come, all things were likely to succeed well unto him; and should hee lose the day, Death would be advantageous; hee having no hope at all of safety: Enemies on all sides; Scotland (his onely refuge) was but a fading hope, notwithstanding the new Peace, and lately contracted Marriage; well might he trust thereto if his fortune should prove Good, but not if other­wise: and say it should Favour Him, He had but little hopes of getting thither untaken by the way, being so generally ha­ted; and 'twas impossible for him to passe unknowne, for his features and shape of body were such, by those that had never seene him. There is to be discerned a confused mingle-mangle of vertues in this; wisdome, in knowing his Danger to be such as was unavoidable; and Fortitude, in resolving to die since he could not eschew danger: so as Writers have great reason to affirme that he wan more Honour in these two houres by his Death, then he had done all the time of his Life. For what con­cernes [Page 154] his Soules health; God is able of Stones to raise up chil­dren unto Abraham, but this is but when he pleaseth: and al­though there be no differences to be made in Him of Easy or Un­easy (since Hee framed the whole World by his bare Word; Hee spake and it was made; He commanded and it was Crea­ted) yet let it be permitted according to humane conjecture to say, That it is, I will not say more Easy, but more usuall for him to save one who is naturally Good, then one who is naturally Bad: since naturall Goodnesse may be said to be the Materia Prima of Salvation, containing in her that Disposition, which, that wee might be saved, was of His meere mercy be­stowed upon us gratis. So as though the rule of Christianity teacheth us not to Judge any one to the Damned, yet it for­bids us not to Doubt of a mans Salvation; as wee do of Rich­ards: for as in the good Tree that beareth good Fruit, some may be Wormy and Rotten; so in Man-kinde, man created to the fruition of Heavenly Glory, may notwithstanding be damned, if he be wormeaten with wickednesses and rotten with the obsti­nacy of sin.

His Death afforded invitation to those who yet fought to save themselves; and the rest that, like Spectatours, had not moved from their station, came to give obedience to the Con­querour; by whom they were gratiously received, as likewise were those who laying downe their Armes, submitted them­selves unto him. Of the number of the Slaine it is diversly writ­ten: some speake of a Thousand, some of foure Thousand. Sir Gilbert Talbot in an account which hee giveth to his friends in writing, sayes there died onely Tenne of the Earles side: Hall saies a Hundred. Of the Peeres on Richards side were slaine, the Duke of Norfolke and the Lord Ferrers of Chartley: of Knights Sir Richard Ratcliffe, and Sir Robert Brakenbury, Lieutenant of the Tower: but few Gentlemen. The Duke of Norfolke was perswaded by his friends to withdraw himselfe from the Bat­tell; the which hee denying to doe, two Verses were fastned to his Chamber doore the night before the Fight, wherein he was advised not to ingage himselfe in the behalfe of a King that was Bought and Sold; but hee, having beene true to him in his Life would be so likewise in his Death: and was praised for it. The Prisoners were many amongst which was Sir William Catesby (hee who betrayed the Lord Hastings) a man of great esteeme among the Professors of the Lawyers, and the chiefe of the Kings Counsell. He was with some Others beheaded two dayes after at Leicester. Of those that fled away the most con­siderable were Viscount Lovell and the two brothers Humphrey, and Thomas Stafford, who got into the Sanctuary of S t Iohns in Gloucester. Of those who would not fight, was the Earle of Nor­thumberland; who comming to acknowledge the Conquerour, was therefore by him received to grace, and afterwards made [Page 155] Privy Counsellour. Thomas Howard Earle of Surrey, Sonne to the deceased Duke of Norfolke, was not received into favour, though hee layd down his Armes; but was put into the Tower, where he stay'd a good while; the inward friendship hee had had with Richard doing him no good; but being afterwards received to grace, he was created Treasurer of England. The Earle after the Victory made Te Deum be Sung. Hee praised his Souldiers valour, and thanked them, promising to reward them according to their Loyalties. He gave order to bury the Dead, and to cure such as were wounded. He Knighted such as he thought did most deserve that honour: the which being done out of his Owne meere motion, did so inanimate his Soul­diers as they cryed him up King; whereupon Stanley tooke Richards Crowne which was found amongst the Booty, and put it on his Head: so as he was chosen King by the Souldier, ac­cording to the ancient custome of diverse Kingdomes. The Lord Strange, who as wee have said, was delivered over to the custody of those who guarded the Tents Royall, that when the Battell should be ended he might be given in charge to the Hangman, at his guardians entreaties, interceded for them: the King granted him their Pardon, received him with much Honour, and his Father with much Joy. He went from thence to Leicester where he stayed two dayes to refresh his men and take order for his going to London. The day before, Richard went from that City in great Pride and Pompe, waited on by so many Lords, Knights, and Souldiers as made the World to wonder: he returned thither whether the next day like a slaine Buck layd acrosse upon the Croupe of a Horse, his Head and Armes hanging on One side, his Legges on the other, Scorned and all Naked (save his Privy Members which were covered with a course piece of Cloth) besmeared with Blood and dawb'd with Dirt, a Horrid sight to behold. The Heralds name that carried him was White-Bore, and the White-Bore was Richards Impresa, the which was torne and cut in pieces in as many places of the Kingdome as it was found. His Body lay na­ked two whole dayes upon the bare Earth in a Church of the Minorites in Leicester, whither it was carried: nor could the People be satisfyed with that sight, which being Gastfull in any Other, was in Him Pleasing and Delightfull, so much had his actions exasperated them against him. Hee was buried in the said Church without any manner of Solemnity or Funerall rites. King Henry shortly after made a Monument bee made for him with his Statue of Alablaster which represented him to the Life: the which at the suppression of that Monastery was bro­ken in Pieces: the place where Hee was buried is since over­growne with Weedes and Nettles, so as it cannot bee novv said Here was Richard Buried. The onely Memoriall that remaines thereof, is the Stone Coffin his Body vvas buried in, [Page 156] which now serves for a Trough for Horses to drinke in, in a Neighbouring Village. They say the Body being taken from thence, was with much derision buried againe at the foote of Bow-Bridge in Leicester: and many other things are said of it, which I rather believe to bee the Peoples Invention, then that there is any thing of Truth in them. In Richard the Line masculine of the House of Yorke ceased: some except Ed­ward Plantagenet, Earle of Warwicke, Sonne to the Duke of Clarence, whom I do not account upon, since fifteene Yeares after Hee likewise died without any Heires Male: As vvee shall see.

The End of the Eighth Booke.

The Ninth BOOK OF THE CIVIL WARS OF ENGLAND, In the LIFE of Henry the Seventh.

OUr Discourse leading us to treat of the Occur­rences of a Kingdom, the Government where­of passed now from one Family to another; it will be necessary to know what pretences the present King had to lay claim to the kingdom, to the end there may remain no scruple touching the Justice or Injustice of the Alteration. Henry the Seventh was by his Genealogie so remote from laying any claim to the Crown by right of Blood, as the common opinion is he had no right at all thereunto. His father Edmund Earl of Rich­mond, was son to Owen Teuder and Queen Katherine the widow of Henry the fifth, whose Houses had no affinity nor relation of Kin­red to the House of Lancaster. By his mothers side somewhat may be said for him; since Margaret Countesse of Richmond (one­ly daughter to the first Duke of Sommerset, and grand-childe to [Page 154] Iohn Duke of Lancaster, the father of Henry the fourth, the first King of that House) pretended that in case the then-present Succession should fail, she and her son were to succeed, as rightly descended from the said Iohn, the father as well of the house of Sommerset as of that of Lancaster. But this meets with two oppo­sitions: The one, That the House of Lancaster had no right at all to the Crown: The other, That, say it had, the House of Som­merset did not partake therein, though sprung from the same Head. The reasons why the House of Lancaster had no pretence are these: Henry the fourth usurped the Crown from Edmund Mortimer descended from Philippa, daughter and heir to Lionel Duke of Lancaster, elder brother to the Duke of Lancaster, upon whom (King Richard the second dying without sons, as he did) the Succession fell: So as the usurpation having continued from father to son in Henry the fourth, the fifth, and sixth, 'twas im­possible for them to transmit that right to Others, which they Themselves had not. That the House of Sommerset, though the Other had had right, did not partake therein, is thus proved: The Duke of Lancaster having had three wives Blanche, Constance, and Katharine, the due claims of his children had by them, were not the same, forasmuch as concern'd Inheritance, in respect of the several Dowries, and different Qualities of the three mothers. Blanche brought with her the Dutchy of Lancaster; Constance, the pretences to the Kingdoms of Castile and Leon; and Katharine, no­thing at all, being but a meer Waiting-woman to the above-said Blanche: So as if Henry the fourth and the daughters born of Blanche, could not pretend to the kingdoms of Castile and Leon, in prejudice to Katharine daughter to Constance; nor Katharine to the Dukedom of Lancaster, in prejudice of Henry the fourth and his sisters; much lesse could the children of Katherine have any pre­tence at all, in prejudice of the children by the former two wives, unlesse what you will allow them meerly in respect of their Fa­thers Inheritance; wherein must be considered their disadvan­tage of being the last born, therefore not to enjoy the preroga­tive which the Laws give to the first-born: To this may be added, that they were born whilst Constance yet lived; so as they were not onely Bastards, but in such a degree as doth aggravate the conditi­on; they being on the Fathers side born in Adultery: And though after the death of Constance, he married Katharine; (which sub­sequent Marriage was made legitimate by the double legitimation both of Pope and Parliament) yet, they not being of the whole Blood, the House of Sommerset had nothing to do with the House of Lancaster, in what belonged to the Inheritance of the Crown, their legitimation making them only capable of their Inheritance by the Father: So as Henry the fourth being established in the king­dom by the Authority of Parliament, and by the same Authority his sons & such as should descend of them being declared his law­ful Successors therein; he (in case his succession should fail) made no mention at all of his Half-brothers, or such as should descend [Page 155] from them. So as let it be granted that his Usurpation was no longer an Usurpation (it being allowed of by a Publike Act of Election) yet had not the House of the Sommerset (though de­scended from the same father) the same pretence; since not be­ing able to pretend to the Dukedom of Lancaster, much lesse could it pretend to the Crown, the father having no pretence at all thereunto. And if Henry, his eldest son, obtained the Crown, it was by Purchase, and so as none should enjoy after him but such descending from him as he should specifically name: So as the Crown (according to the Laws of England) belonging to the House of York, by the Marriage with Anne, sister and heir to the afore­said Edmund Mortimer, there remains somewhat of doubt whether the Parliament could invest the House of Lancaster to the right of the Crown, in prejudice to the first Mortimer, and consequent­ly to the House of York. If it could not Then justly do it, neither could it justly do it after Henry the Seventh's pretence unto the Crown: and if it could do it; in the same manner and by the same right as it did operate to the prejudice of Mortimer & the House of York, by making Henry the fourth King; it might do the like to the prejudice of the House of Lancaster, by making Edward the 4 King. So as Henry the Seventh (be it either by Election or by natural Descent) is totally excluded from any right unto the Crown: which exclusion notwithstanding rests onely in his Own Person, not in those who have descended from him. For having married Elizabeth the true Heir of the House of York, his sons begotten upon her were true Heirs to the Crown. And if in this particular we desire to be any thing favourable to him, let us say, that if the House of Lancaster had any such pretence, it had it by the Mother, who was Heir to the House of Sommerset; and if the House of Som­merset be different from that of Lancaster, so as he Thereby have no colour of Claim, yet may he have it Another way; being chosen King by the same power of Parliament as Henry the Fourth and Ed­ward the 4 were: So as the legal Right being in Elizabeth accord­ing to Natural Descent, and in Him according to Election; and it being sufficient according to the laws of Nature and of the King­dom, that the right be in any one of them, it matters not in which; since either of them having it, there is none that suffers wrong thereby. 'Tis a wonder notwithstanding that it could so much as fall into his imagination to pretend thereunto before this Marri­age; and that Edward and Richard should without any cause be afraid of him: but the reason is, because, as Head of the Faction, he might be troublesom to them. For though Henry the Sixth and the Prince his son were extinguished (they being the last of the House of Lancaster) yet was not that Party or Faction extinguished; which could not be revived again, save under his conduct who had the neerest Relation thereunto. For this it was that the last Duke of Buckingham (not calling Henry to minde before his meeting with his mother) thought he himself had reason to pretend thereunto. In such a case, the right & lawful title of King imports not so much as [Page 156] the lawful Title to be Head of a Party: the first is communica­ble by Fortune, Force, or favour of Parliament; the other onely by Descent: for upon such occasions, Law is not sought after, but a Pretence: To Pretend, is that which is desired, and which suf­ficeth. And this it was that moved the two Brothers to sollicite to get him into their Tuition from the Duke of Britanny: for as for any thing else, they had no reason to fear him. The Lancastrian Fa­ction had never been likely to have been revived, had not Richard been a Tyrant; for Edward, through his Affability, had ground­ed such an affection of the People towards the House of York, as neither would Richard's wickednesse, nor Henry's goodnesse, have been able to have rooted it out: nay, Henry would have had none at all to have sided with him (though against a man so much ab­horred) had it not been for his promise to marry Elizabeth, the Heir of the House and Kingdom. The troubles which after­wards befel him, sprung from hence; for he always shewed him­self but luke-warm in his affections towards his wife, and an ir­reconcileable enemy to her House; insomuch as having gotten the Victory and slain his Enemy, he grew obstinate in his will not to be King but by his Own Title: he deferred his Marriage, and Her Coronation, till such time as being crowned Himself, and established by Parliament, he had onely accepted of the Title of Lancaster, as the First and Chiefest Fundamental; and of the other two (Conquest and Marriage) but as Accidental, or as Adjuncts. Nor ought this to be imputed to him as a Fault; since it was not caused by any Hatred he bare to the House of York, but out of the Love he bare unto Himself, and through a cautelous Foresight. For a noise being rumour'd that the Duke of York was alive (preserved from death by those who had the charge to kill him) his claim by his Wife would have failed him, if her Brother had been alive, who could not have been excluded but by the litigious Title of Lancaster. And suppose this News were false, there remained yet Other doubts: for if she should die without children, the bare Title of Marriage would not make good the Crown unto Him, which was to fall upon her Sisters: And if she should die, leaving children by him behinde her, the Crown would fall upon Them: so as many inconveniences might have happened to him thereby. For, suppose that his Chrildren and the Parliament should both of them have been contented he should have continued in the Government, there is a great Dif­ference betwixt reigning by vertue of Birth and Law, whereby he was not obliged to any; and the doing of the like by vertue of Another's Consent, which obliged him to Every one: In the first, he was Free and Independent; in the second, of Courtesie, and Dependent. To make use of his Title of Conquest, was Dangerous, and which might alienate even those that sided with him: for thereby he had authority to take what he would, from whom he would, to make what Conditions he pleased, to make Laws at his pleasure, to disannul Laws already made, when he [Page 157] liked; and to dispose of men, not as a King of Subjects, but as a Lord of Slaves. And though the Title of Lancaster were con­demned by Parliament as Usurped and Unjust; and that he him­self was called unto the Crown, not by vertue of his Own Title, but that by marrying with the Princesse Elizabeth, the true Queen and Heir to the House of York, all those Disputes might be ended; yet moved by the abovesaid Considerations, and not valuing the inconveniences that might arise, he declared himself King by ver­tue of his Birth, not naming the Princesse Elizabeth in any thing; as willing to run whatsoever danger, rather then to be King by his Wives Courtesie, while she should Live; by the Good-will of his Children, if she should Die; and by the Permission of Parliament, if he should have no Issue by her.

He began his Reign the Two and twentieth day of August, 1485 1485, at the same time that Richard ended his: from whom he did very much differ in Conditions. They were both Constant, the one in Wickednesse, the other in Worth: insomuch as had he not had too great a desire to encrease his Treasure, he would hardly be out-done by whatsoever praise-deserving Prince; he was deservedly praised for his Wisedom and Valour. The Lord Chancellor Bacon, who hath written his Life, calls him England's Solomon, not so much in that he brought Peace thereunto, as that being Wise like Solomon, he was, like Him, very Grievous and Burdensome to his People, never wanting some invention or other to draw Moneys from them.

The Princesse Elizabeth, and Edward Plantaginet Earl of Warwick son to the Duke of Clarence, were in Sherifhutton-Castle in York-shire, where they were both kept by Richard's command. King Henry commanded that the Princesse should be brought up to Lon­don, to the Queen her Mother; whither she went attended on by Lords and Ladies: But the Earl of Warwick, he gave order that the keeper of the Castle should deliver him unto the custodie of Sir Robert Willoughby, to be by him brought prisoner to the Tower; for though he were very Young, yet was he not a person fit to enjoy his Liberty in such litigious times. For if being a Prisoner, there wanted not some who feigned themselves to be Him, taking his Personage upon them; what would have been done, had he had his Liberty? Henry's resolution therefore in this point, did not proceed from a violence of Will, or weaknesse of Judge­ment (as is the opinion of some Writers) but from exact Wis­dom; chusing of two evils the Lesser and least Dangerous.

He went from Leicester towards London, without any ostentati­on of Victory or Conquest: his Journey was peaceful; all Mi­litary insolencies were forbidden, and forborn: he marched not like a New King, but like one who had been so Long; welcom'd wherever he passed with Shouts of Joy. His taking up the Olive­branch, and laying aside the Palm, did enhearten the People; who did now promise themselves that quiet which since Henry [Page 158] the Fourth's time till that present they had enjoyed but by Fits; being subject to so many Alterations, as had not those Evils ensued which did ensue, the very Expectation and Apprehension of them was an intermitting Feaver for the space of Fourscore & six yeers. In like manner made he his entrance into London: for though he was met by the Maior, Magistrates, and Citizens (besides the No­bility and Gentlemen which accompanied them) notwithstand­ing, dispensing with the Pomp usually observed at the first en­trance of Kings into that City, he made his entry in a Coach un­displayed; to the end it might not be thought that having re­invested himself into his Countrey by the favour of Armes, and gotten the Crown by the Kings death, he had any intention to Triumph over the People. His entry was upon a Saturday, the day of his Victory; which day he solemnized all his life-time, as being always the happiest day to him of all the days of the week. He alighted out of his Coach at Pauls Church; where he made Te Deum be sung, and caused the Colours taken from the Enemy, to be there hung up. He pretended to no other Trophies; nei­ther did he own this as the Effects of his Own Valour, or from Fortune, but as from God, the onely Fortune whereunto Sacri­fices ought to be made. He lodged in the Bishops Palace which joyns unto the Church, as not being far from the Tower, from whence he was to come to his Coronation. And because it was said he had given his word to marry Anne the daughter and heir to the Duke of Britanny, (which in respect of the favours he had received from that Duke, was believed to be true) he in an As­sembly of the chiefest Lords of the Kingdom, which was called for that purpose, did ratific his promise to marry the Princesse Elizabeth: by which he stopped the Whispers and Fears that were had of him: yet did he defer the Consummating of it with­out any manner of scandal, till being Crowned, and in Possession by his Own Title, he might avoid being call'd King in the right of his Wife. He made his entrance into the Tower on Simon and Iude's eeve, and on the Feast-day made Twelve Knights Ban­nerets. He created his Uncle Iasper, Earl of Pembroke, Duke of Bedford; he who having brought him up of a Childe, saved him from Edward the Fourth, by carrying him into Britanny. He cre­ated his Father-in-law, the Lord Stanley, Earl of Darby; and Ed­ward Courtney Earl of Devonshire. He was Crowned in the Church at Westminster on the Thirtieth day of October with the accustomed Solemnities, and joyful Acclamations both of the Nobility and People. Cardinal Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, executed that Office. He held a Parliament Seven days after, wherein he annulled all the Decrees for the Confiscations of the Lives and Livelihood of such as took part with him; and made the like De­cree against the chiefest of the Other side: and to take away all suspition from the rest, he granted out a General Pardon, which freed such of fear, who had cause to fear: for his having conde­mned those whom he would not pardon, did secure These, and 1483 [Page 159] was a sure signe he would pardon the rest; so as quitting the San­ctuaries, and places where they had hid themselves, they swore Fealty to him, and did their Homage answerable to the tenure of the Declaration, and reentred into their Possessions. Afterwards as concerning his Title (which was the chiefest Concernment) he govern'd himself with such cautelousnesse, as that the Prin­cesse Elizabeth not being named therein, he would have the Act that was made to contain a Double sense: that the inheritance of the Crown should remain in Him and in his Children lawfully to be begotten, not declaring whether it were his by Nature, or by Conquest; it sufficing him that whatsoever interpretation was made of it, it must make for his advantage. He would not prescribe any Succession in case he, and those that should lawfully descend from him, should fail, because it should not be thought to be done of purpose to exclude the House of York: he there­fore left the decision thereof to the Laws. He, in the same Par­liament, conferr'd more Honours: he created Monsieur de Chan­dos (a Gentleman of Britanny, who during his being there, had been his familiar friend, and would needs accompany him in his Expedition for England) Earl of Bath: he made Sir Giles Aubeny and Sir Robert Willoughby, Barons: he restored Edward Stafford, el­dest son to the Duke of Buckingham, to his Blood, Dignity, and Goods: and though his Confiscation were great, yet his Father having been the First Promoter of his greatnesse, and having thereupon lost his Life, he restored all unto his Son: which won him the reputation of being Grateful. And though Kings do seldom call Parliaments, without demanding some Aids by Moneys, and doing some Acts of Grace unto the People, he thought it not fitting to make any such demand at This time, as not having any Grace to confer, fitting to the time: for though the General Pardon was an Act of Grace, yet would not he pre­tend it to be such, but rather a Correspondency to the satisfaction they had given him, in receiving him to be King by his Own Ti­tle. Besides, he not having War with any one, and having ma­ny great Confiscations faln unto him (the which he so modera­ted as might become a favourable Confiscator, and be expected in a good Government) he was willing to spare his Subjects purses. And though his intention was to govern in such sort as his People should have no reason to hate Him, nor He to fear Them; yet knowing he had Enemies, he instituted a Guard of Fifty Archers under the Command of a Captain; which was a New thing in England, where their Kings are onely guarded by the Laws and their Subjects affections. So as to take away all Jealousie, he declared the Institution to be Perpetual: moved thereunto by what he in the time of his Exile had observed others to do: and, for that the want of a Guard doth misbecome the Majestie of a King; and is requisite to be had, if not for Necessity, for De­cency.

The Parliament being dissolved, he forgot not that he had [Page 160] left the Marquesse Dorset and Sir Iohn Bourchier as pledges in France for the Moneys wherewith he payed the Forces he brought with him into England. Willing therefore upon this occasion to try the inclination of the Citizens, he commanded the Lord Treasu­rer to desire the Lord Maior of London that the City might lend him Six thousand Marks: and after sundry consultations, the businesse was decided by the loan of Two thousand pounds sterling; the which though it came short of the sum that was de­sired, he took in good part, supplying the Remainder (which was much) out of his Own moneys, to the end the Hostages might return for England, as they did. He forgot not the services done to him by Iohn Morton Bishop of Ely, and Richard Fox Bishop of Exceter, for which he made them both of his Privie-Councel, and gave unto Morton the Archbishoprick of Canterbury, which fell void by the death of Cardinal Bourchier: he made Fox Lord Privie-Sea; promoting him from the Bishoprick of Exceter to that of Bath and Wells, from thence to Durham, and from thence to Winchester, the richest of All the rest.

Having now no impediment to hinder the performance of his promise, he married the Princesse Elizabeth, to the peoples so 1486 great joy, as he was not much therewithal pleased; ror he never had any great inclination to the Match: his inveterate enmity to her Family prevailed more with him, then did the Goodnesse, Fruitfulnesse and Beauty of so worthy a Wife.

Soon after Henry's coming to the Crown, England was afflicted with a disease not known in former times; so as the remedies not being known, many perished of it: of a Hundred scarcely One escaped, till experience taught the Way how to cure it. Men were taken with a deadly Sweat, with Pains in the Head, and Bur­nings in the Stomack, which rendred them dry and desirous of Cold, they were by the one and the other of them dispatcht in Four and twenty hours: for, casting off their clothes, and drink­ing cold Beer as it came from the Cellar, they died irrecoverably. But some few relapsing twice or thrice into this Maladie, it was found that taking Cold and not drinking Warm drink, were the causes which made it mortal. The Cure then that was found for it, was, To endure the Heat Four and twenty hours, in such manner as the Sweat was neither Irritated, nor kept Back; and to drink Warm drink a little at a time, rather to Allay then to Extinguish thirst. This Sicknesse began in the midst of Septem­ber, and continued all October: it hindred not the solemnity of the Coronation: it begot no Swelling nor Sores, and became curable if the remedies were Timely applied: neither was it Contagious but the Fever which did accompany it was Pestilential. It was judged to proceed from a Malignant vapour, which stuffing up the Vital spirits, was wrestled with by nature, to drive it out by Sweat. An Author of good quality saith it could not be called Epidemical, though it so generally spred it self: and that if sprung from a certain malignity of the Air, occasioned by the [Page 161] Unseasonablenesse of the weather. But Fernelius, who wrote of it at the intreaty of an English Ambassadour, calleth it Epidemi­cal. Those that esteemed it a Prodigie, would have it to foreboad a Hard and Troublesome Reign. But Polydor Virgil's opinion is not to be rejected: That the King should be troubled even till the Last day of his Life; since from the beginning to the end, he Never had any quiet. A Divination which was not likely to prove false, being made After the Event; nor did the Other which was made Before it.

All things having succeeded according to his wish, Henry thought now he should meet with no more oppositions: He was King by his Own Title, in his Own Right: he had married the Prin­cesse; and by his General Pardon and Restitution of Goods, he had reconciled such as were his Profest Enemies: yet the Nor­thern people, bearing still a love to the House of York, and to the late Richard, he thought it requisite for him to go into those parts; hoping by his Presence to cure their infatuated imagina­tions. He kept his Easter at Lincoln; whither he was hardly come, when he understood how the Lord Lovel and the Two Staffords (brothers) Humphrey, and Thomas, had forsaken Sanctuary, it not being known whither they were gone: but assoon as he was come to York, he understood that the Lord Lovel was not far from thence, with good store of men about him: and that the Staffords, having raised Forces in Worcester-shire, were marched towards York to assault him. This second information, though it did a lit tle trouble him, yet he took it to be but the remainder of Richard's yet panting spirits: but he was more confused to think that he was amongst a people that did not affect him, that sided with the House of York, and of whom, without danger, he could not make use. Amidst these difficulties, he muster'd out of those that fol­lowed him, and such as had relation to them, Three thousand fighting men, on whom he might affie; which being sufficiently ill armed, he gave in charge to the Duke of Bedford; giving him for his Vant-guard a General Pardon, which like Cannon-shot might ru­ine the Enemy; as it did. For the Duke being come in sight of him, and the Heralds having published the Pardon, he was there­with so stricken, as doubting not onely to be Abandoned, but to be yeelded up Prisoner, he fled the same night towards Lancaster; and from thence into Flanders, to the Dutchesse Dowager of Bur­gundy: whilst the rest, laying down their Arms, yeelded themselves to the Duke. Whereupon they that were with the Staffords, their hopes being lost, disperst themselves into sundry places; and the two brothers got into the Sanctuary at Colnham neer Abington, where they found not the safety they imagined: for the priviledge thereof not extending to save Traytors, they were taken from thence. Humphrey was executed; and Thomas was pardoned, for that, as the Younger brother, he was enforced to obey the Elder.

The King having quieted this Rebellion, and reduced these Nor­thern people to his Obedience, returned to London. The Queen in [Page 162] September brought him a Son; who lived, though born in the Eighth Month, contrary to the rule of Common Observation: it may be there was some Errour in the Calculation; for it is more likely that Women may be deceived in the time of their Conception, and in the Counting of their Months, then that Hippocrates should be deceived in his Principles. He named him Arthur, in memory of the ancient Britons, from whom he descended; Wales (as hath been said) not being any part of the Angli-Saxones, which possessed all the Rest of the Kingdom; but of the Original people of the Island, the residue of the Britons, which saved themselves by fleeing into those Provinces: and from thence came the First so famous Ar­thur, who really and without any manner of Fable or Romanza, was a very valiant Prince: so as Henry to revive his memory, call­ed his Son after His name.

There lived at this time in Oxford one Richard Simond a Priest, in­differently well educated, but of mean birth: and who (abounding with strange ambitious fancies) durst do that which another could never have dared to do. This man took upon him to bring up a yong Boy of so Sweet and Ingenuous a Countenance as one would not have thought him to be a Baker's Son, as he was: his name was Lambert Symnel. There were then Two rumours noised every where, and which were spread abroad by such as out of Faction or out of Envie could not endure that Henry should reign: the one, that the Duke of York, son to Edward the 4, was Alive; the other, that the King was resolved to put the Earl of Warwick, who was prisoner in the Tower, secretly to death. The First was divulged, to nurse up Hopes in such as were ill affected; the Second, to en­crease Hatred against the King, as if, equally cruel with Richard, he were about to treat the Earl of Warwick, as Richard had treated his Nephews. Whereupon Simond meeting with so fit an occasion, bethought himself to make Lambert personate the Duke of York; but presently altering his Opinion, he judged it fitter for his purpose to have him personate the prisoner, the Earl of Warwick: and that if his endeavours should succeed, and that Lambert should be made King, he himself should be recompensed with the Chief Miter of England, and the Go­vernment of King and Kingdom. Neither did he think to meet with any great Obstacle herein; since that the love to the House of York remaining yet in the hearts of Most of the Kingdom, they could not possibly endure that the King having married the Prin­cesse Elizabeth, he should not suffer her to be Crowned as she ought to be. Resolving hereupon, he began to give such in­struction to Lambert as such a businesse required; and met with an Aptnesse in him fit to receive whatsoever documents: but considering afterwards that his pupil was to represent the person of one that was known to many, and not known to him, he thought it was unpossible to be done without the Assistance of some-body who was conversant in the Court, who might be informed by those that had [Page 163] served the Earl, of his childish conversation, and of all things that had befallen since King Edward's death; at which time he was but Ten yeers old. None being fitter for such an Office then the Queen Dowager, she was imagined to be the Instructresse: for she was but little satisfied to see her daughter so little belo­ved, and so coolly treated as a Wife, and as a Queen, wanting the usual Marks of that dignity; (for Henry had neglected her Co­ronation, though he had lately born him a Son) not that her in­tention was to make Lambert King, but to make use of him, to Depose her Son-in-law; to substitute the infant-Prince, the law­ful Successor, in his place; and, in case she should meet with too great oppositions, Lincoln, or Warwick; which were Both of the House of York. That which made people of this opinion, was, Her being shortly after confined to a Monastery, upon no weighty pretence; as we shall see. The King thought it expedient to punish her under the colour of a Petty known fault, for a heinous one which was not fitting to be known. Howsoever it was, Lam­bert took upon him the gestures and behaviour of a great Per­sonage, with so miraculous punctuality, as that these being joyn­ed to his Natural Sweetnesse, a True Prince could not be formed out with more true Perfections then were these false ones which appeared to be true in Him. The reasons which made Simond change his first designe and chuse rather to have his Comedian per­sonate the son to the Duke of Clarence, then King Edward's son (though he that was Dead might easilier be counterfeited then he that was Alive) was, That when a speech went of his being escaped out of the Tower, he observed so Great Joy in the Peo­ple, as he thought he should have more to further him in his de­signe, and that it would be easier for him to insinuate a falshood in the Person of This man; falsly supposed to have made an escape, then in that Other whose escape would the hardlier be believed: for in it Two Impossibilities were to be supposed; Pity in the Varlets that were to murder him, which could not, without danger, enter into such souls, especially under such a King as was Richard; and the Escape from the Tower, which aug­menting the danger, took from the belief of any Compassion in Them, or Life in Him. But that which chiefly made him re­solve upon This, was, that whilst he was doubtful what to do, 'twas said for a truth that Warwick was Dead in the Tower. Now to act this Comedy well, he did not think England a fit Scene, a proportionable Distance being required in things which must be taken for what they are not: unavoidable difficulties were to be met withal upon the place, which might be avoided abroad; where no Witnesses being, to convince; nor Acquaintance; to confound; boldnesse▪ becomes impudence: without which, Cheats of this nature can hardly be effected. He resolved to go over into Ireland, a Kingdom affectionate to the House of York, and wherein King Henry at his coming to the Crown had altered nothing; neither Deputy, Councellor, nor Officer; the same [Page 164] commanded there, that were there placed by Richard: a negli­gence to be blamed in so Prudent a Prince as He was, who knew the inclination of that Kingdom and People, wherein if altera­tions chance to happen, remedies are hardly come by; none be­ing to be had from within it Self, and all External helps (the Sea interposed between them and home) being Difficult, Dan­gerous and Slowe. All which made for Symond's purpose; who coming before Thomas Fitz-Gerald Earl of Kildare, who was De­puty (a man ill-affected to Henry, as he was well-affected to the House of York) presented his pretended Prince unto him, using such illusions as Lambert not having any one part in him which did not gainsay his mean Extraction, the Deputy believed him to be what his Masters speeches, and his Studied Nobility made him appear to be: insomuch that acquainting some of his trustiest friends with this Secret under the Seal of Confession, he found them, and together with them, the People, prone to Rebellion. They received this fancied Prince with great honour; they gave the Castle of Dublin to him for his Lodging; and few days after proclaimed him King, by the name of Edward the Sixth. There was not any one Province that denied him obedience; and all of them joyned in declaring War against Henry: whilst on the contrary side, there was not any one that spake a word, or drew a sword in his behalf. But that Kingdom being but bare of Mo­ney and Arms, and but meanly furnished with Souldiers, they hoped that such in England as were friends to the House of York, and Margaret Dutchesse of Burgundy, would, in a businesse of so great consequence, assist them with their Supplies: whom they advertise that Edward Plantagenet is escaped out of the Tower and come into Ireland, where he was received and proclaimed King; that they were purposed to bring him into England, his hereditary Kingdom, if they would be ready with their assistance, to secure his Entry; and that his Aunt of Burgundy would assist him with Money, Souldiers, and Commanders. Margaret, by reason of her vertue (for she had nothing in her blameable but her inveterate hate to the House of Lancaster) was in great esteem amongst the Flemings: she was the third wife to Charles Duke of Burgundy, who being slain before Nanci, left no Heir behinde him save Mary (born to him by Elizabeth of Burbon, his second wife) who was married to Maximilian of Austria son to the Emperour Frederick the third, to whom she bare Philip and Margaret, which (their mother being dead) were brought up with much charity and affection by this window, she doing for Them, as she could have done had they been her Own children: which caused the Subjects, moved thereunto by her so great Charity, to honour and obey her, as if she had been their Naturally-reigning Prin­cesse. Her husband had left her a very great Dowry; so as she having had no other occasion of Expence, saving her frugal Do­mestick affairs, she might by the Moneys she had gathered in so many yeers, of her Self, unassisted by any Other, undertake this [Page 165] business. She therefore willingly listened to the Embassie: not that she was Ignorant of the Falshood of it (for she knew her Nephew so strictly kept, as he could not escape) but that she might have an occasion to trouble Henry. His marriage with her Neece, which should have reconciled her to him, did the more Incense her against him, since it was the way to Establish him in the Kingdom, and to take it from Her House, without any Hope of ever Recovering it again: whereupon she readily Promised Assistance; and, in it's due time, Sent it more Readily.

The King, when he heard of this Rebellion in Ireland, was very much troubled; being too-late aware he had done ill to leave that Nation under the Command of such as depended upon his Predecessor. And though he could not have imagined such an accident as This, yet was he not to be excused; for Wisedom ought to foresee not onely Evident; but Contingent dangers: neither was it Contigency, to trust Ireland in the hands of such as were Well-wishers to the Adverse party; it was not to be be­lieved, that together with their Prince they would change their Inclinations; for Hatred in inveterate Factions, is seldome changed. But having no ready remedie, nor being able to exer­cise his own Valour upon this occasion, as he had done upon Others, by reason of the Sea's interposal, he called his Council together, to know their Opinions, and to resolve upon what was to be done. They propounded and concluded upon Three expedi­ents: First, a General Pardon for All faults (Treason against the Kings Person not excepted) to all such as within a Prefixt time should Confesse themselves guilty: a thing most Usual upon Other occasions, but necessary at This time; since Ordinary Trea­son, which is usually pardonable, was not Now treated of; but treason grown to such a Height as makes the partakers therein Desperate, even to the Uttermost Hazard; their welfare being in­compatible with the welfare of the Prince. This Article was re­solved on in consideration of Sir Thomas Broughton, who had saved the Lord Lovel: for, being a powerful man in his Countrey, he might have assembled many men, who, joyned to the rest, might have done much harm: and though there was no doubt of his Correspondency with the Irish, yet it was Now no fitting time to proceed against him with Severity; it was thought fittest for the Present Danger, not to put him to Desperation, not to Pro­voke him to Mischief, and to shew him a way to save himself. Secondly, that Edward Plantagenet should be taken out of the Tower, and shewn to the People, to the end they might know he was not dead; and that the supposed Plantagenet in Ireland was a meer Chimaera, framed onely to trouble the State. Thirdly, that the Queen-mother should be confined to the Nunnery of Bermondsey, and that her goods should be confiscated; for that having promised the Princesse Elizabeth to the now-King, whilst he was in Britanny, she had, contrary to the Articles of Agree­ment, delivered Her, and the rest of her sisters, up to Richard. [Page 166] The issue of these three Resolutions, were; Broughton bit not at this bait of Pardon: Edward Plantagenet was led in Procession to Pauls, being by the way discoursed withal by divers of the chief of the Nobility that knew him, especially by such of whom the King had any Suspition; to the end they might be convinc't in their reason. The which though it availed in England, yet did it no good in Ireland: where the King was accused, That, out of an intent to rob Edward the Sixth of his Inheritance, which he had Tyrannously enjoy'd, he had shewed to the view of the People, a young boy who was somewhat like him, to the end they might believe a Falshood, thereby cheating the World, and by an unparallel'd Imposture profaning the Church, and sacred Ceremonies. The resolution concerning the Queen was that Alone which took Effect, though not without Scandal: for there being no other cause then what was alleadged, the punishment savoured too much of Avarice and Cruelty: of Avarice, be­cause the King got thereby her Confiscation, which was very Great; of Cruelty, because the Weaknesse and Vanity of a Woman (the Weaknesse caused by the Threats, the Vanity by the Promises of a Tyrant) and the Irksomnesse of a Sanctuary (an End whereof she was Never to expect) did not deserve so Severe a punishment. Not but that her fault was very Great, since she did what in Her lay to render the Kings return vain, and to make those Lords for ever lose their Countrey, and their Possessions, who upon her promises were gone into Britanny: but the Difficulty of so dangerous an enterprise under the conduct of a Young man, without Forces; against a powerful King, a skil­ful Warriour; together with the Example of the Duke of Buckingham, who first began it with so Unfortunate Successe were able to have made a Stronger minde then Hers to have Waver'd: the sufferings of her Body and Minde, made her co­vet a Quiet; which she could not hope for from a few Exil'd People: and if This were her Onely fault, wherefore was she not at first proceeded against, before her daughter's Marriage, and the Prince's birth; in all which time the King shewed no distaste against her, neither held her as a Delinquent? But in my Opi­nion it is to be thought that the Kings nature, though Covetous, yet not Wicked, did not move him to deal so injuriously with her: rather that he was induced to these proceedings out of some Hidden cause; and that those Forces above mention'd, which made her guilty in the highest degree, made him so ex­ceeding Severe: else he would have punisht her Before, as in Justice he might have done. But Princes Imaginations are not as manifest as their Actions. This Queen was one of Fortune's greatest works; whose Inconstancy in the enterchanges of her Felicity and Misery, proved Constant: from being a widow to a bare Knight, she was made wife to a great King; who being fled away, deposed, and banished, she was enforced for the Safety of her Self and the Prince her son, which she bare there, to take [Page 167] Sanctuary; her husband not many months after returning home Victorious, and Triumphing, she likewise returned with him, and during his life, lived in her former Greatnesse and Felicity: when he died, she fell upon the like necessity, as formerly, of taking Sanctuary; her Brother-in-law having usurped the King­dom from her Sons, declared them to be Bastards, and cruelly put them to Death; for her yet greater grief, her Brother, and one of her sons, had by her Former husband, died under the Hangmans hands: in lesse then Three months space, she was wounded with the death of Three Sons and a Brother: her el­dest Daughter being married to the new King, moved by her womanish anger to practise uneffectible Chimaera's, she lost her Honour, Goods and Liberty; and shortly after died unhappie; not visited by any whilst she lived, abandoned by her friends. She was endued with Rare Qualities; but her ruine proceeded from her abuse in the Choice of them: Wisedom and Wylinesse be­ing of the like Habit and Aspect, are easily mistaken One for Another; she took the Later for the Former; which she would not have done had she well considered them, for they are of Dif­fering Liveries; the one's is border'd about with Vertue, the other's with Deceipt. Queens Colledge in Cambridge is her foun­dation, and so call'd from her at this hour.

The Earl of Lincoln fled at this same time into Flanders: he was son to Iohn de la Poole Duke of Suffolk, and Elizabeth, Eldest sister to the Two Brothers Edward and Richard. Richard had declared him to be his Successor, in case he should die without Children; for having published King Edward and the Duke of Clarence to be born in Adultery, he could not (if he would maintain the pre­tended justice of his Own cause to the Crown) but reject their issue; especially having injured them so heinously. The Earl, upon these hopes, flew High in his conceipts: he was a man so well conditioned, as had his Title been just, he deserved to have attain'd at what he aim'd. His designes, which were born to the ground by Henry, who by his Uncles death had gotten the Crown, began to renew again at this Irish news: for knowing the preten­ded Plantagenet's falshood, he thought the troubles that were thereupon like to arise, would bring him to what he desired; for Henry being once overcome, it would be easie for Him to bear down the Impostor. The King had oft-times had him in his thoughts; for being a Bird fit for the Cage, to let him fly loose Abroad, might prove pernicious to Himself and to the State: but the Earl of Warwick's imprisonment, at which the People were offended, was the cause why he imprisoned not Him; which should he do, they would take yet greater offence: and he hoped, though He were at Liberty, he could not hurt him so long as the Other was in Prison: Warwick's pretension was Just, and accord­ing to the Laws; Lincoln's was Illegal, obtained from one who had no Power to give it: and the more it was Questionable, the lesse was it to be Feared; for it was not likely that by the [Page 168] difference of Two disagreeing Pretendants, any One of the par­ties might by Concord be established. In which if he was decei­ved, it was not to his Prejudice. For Lincoln being fled (not without the knowledge and appointment of Sir Thomas Broughton) he went to his Aunt the Dutchesse, who after divers consultati­ons, sent him into Ireland, accompanied by the Lord Lovel and other Fugitives, with a Regiment of Two thousand choice Dutchmen commanded by Martin Swart, a Valiant Captain. She thought this ready succour would produce many good effects; as the Confirming of the Rebels in their Obstinacy; the Securing the Counterfeit King in Possession, and the Encouraging of his Party in England, by making them Ready at their arrival to set upon Henry, to fight with him, and to put him to flight: for the Feigned Edward the Sixth was to be Held up, as long as need re­quired, and not Yet to be cashiered, and the True Edward, which was in the Tower, put in his place. She had no thought at all of Lincoln in this businesse, knowing he had no Right of Pretence, unlesse she would have Seconded her brother Richard in his Decla­rations, to the Shame of her House, which she was very far from.

The King, when he understood of his flight, was much per­plext; he saw, that, the Dutchesse having declared her self in the behalf of the Rebels, he must defend his Crown with the Sword. The first provisions he made, was to make the Sea-coasts on that side be well guarded, to the end that Others might not follow Lincoln's example. He raised a Great Army, and divided it under Two Generals, the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Oxford; believing to be set upon at one and the same time, both from Ireland, and Flanders. And though he expected not this be­fore the Spring, yet forbore he not to make a journey almost in the midst of Winter into Suffolk and Norfolk, to take order for necessary provisions. And understanding by the way, that Mar­quesse Dorset was coming to him, to clear himself of some impu­tation which was falsly laid upon him, he dispatched away the Earl of Oxford to meet him by the way, with order to carry him to the Tower, and to tell him, That this was not done for that he had Deserved it, or that the King had any Ill opinion of him, but to Free him from the Danger of being Perswaded to undertake any thing which might redound to his Prejudice; so as though he could not chuse but think such a provision very Hard, he wish­ed him to take it Patiently, promising him he should have Ho­nourable and Satisfactory reparation. The King kept his Christ­masse at Norwich; and went from thence by way of Devotion to our Lady of Walsingham, and from thence returned by Cambridge to London.

The Earl of Lincoln's arrival in Ireland, with so many good men with him, added to the Rebels hopes: they were very proud 1487 to see themselves favoured by the Dutchesse, by her sending of such ready Helps, and Two so great Lords, as were Lincoln and Lovel. At their coming, King Lambert was Crowned, being [Page 169] formerly but Proclaimed King. Being in Council, they differ'd in Opinions, whether the war were to be made in Ireland or Eng­land: Those who would have it made in Ireland, alleadged for their reasons, That Henry being necessitated to passe over thither in Person, lest he might lose that Kingdom, he would meet with many disadvantages; amongst which the most Considerable would be, his giving way for the Faction of York to Spread it Self, the which being already Great, would Encrease and grow Greater in the Absence of the King, and such Forces as he must carry along with him; so as the Faction of Lancaster consequently growing Weaker, it would run danger of being Destroy'd, and divers would be encouraged to Abandon it, who Already were prettily well Enclined so to do: which if it should fall out, he would be able to do but Little good in Ireland, since he would want Supplies, being likely to have None from England, which, peradventure, he might Lose. They were but Few that were of this opinion: for they wanted there all the chief Ground-works of War, strong Holds, Arms, Money and Souldiers; an Enemy could not be Stopped without strong Holds, nor Themselves Secured; without Money Souldiers were not to be had; nor could they encamp themselves in Open field without Arms. Reason perswaded to passe the Seas and make the war in England: Henry had done the same with Grea­ter & Lesser company, and yet had had Good successe; it was to be believed, that not having any One that sided with him in Ireland, he would have but Few in England; where, if the Greatest part were affectionate to the House of York, whilst they had No Head to follow, what would they when they should have a lawful King, at­tended on by a whole Kingdom? an agreement which would invite and encourage England to do the like. But all these arguments, though Sufficient, were not efficacious enough to make this reso­lution be taken: the onely reason: which bare sway to have the war in England, was the Want of Money wherewithal to pay the Dutchmen, and their no hopes of Enriching themselves by fight­ing in Ireland. The needier sort of people flockt to the beating of the Drum; those who had nothing but their Lives to lose, were contented to venture them upon hopes to better their fortunes in so Rich a Countrey. They embarqued themselves better furnished with Hopes then with Weapons; and landed with Lambert, clad in kingly apparel, at the Pile of Fowdray in Lancashire; they were con­ducted by the Earls of Lincoln and Kildare, and Viscount Lovel, fol­lowed by the Dutchmen under Colonel Swart. Broughton met them at their landing, with but a few men: they marched towards York, and passed peaceably where they went, to shew that Lawful Kings come to Ease, not to Oppresse their Subjects: but shortly after, their hopes began to grow cool, when they saw not any one come in to them in their Solitary March; especially since they could not with more reason expect any to side with them in any Other Countrey then in that which was so much enclined to the House of York, and to Richard. But Viscount Lovel not having found any safety there [Page 170] the yeer before, they might believe, They were not now likely to fare better. Some were of opinion, that the Alienation of those people proceeded from a Distaste they took that Two Forreign Nations, the Dutch and Irish, should pretend to present them with a King made by them: and though Henry the 4, and Edward the 4, and the Now-King had in the like manner been presented by Stran­gers, yet the case differ'd: They (the first and last) were call'd in by a Part of the Kingdom, to free them from the two Richards, the 2 and the 3, the One for divers reasons more hated then the Other; and Edward came of himself, building upon the People's Love: nei­ther had Henry the 7 given any occasion of Hatred whereby to be driven out; rather the opinion of his Worth, and his having Matcht with the House of York, had established him: moreover, the Pro­cession made to Paul's, wherein the True Plantagenet was seen, made them not minde the False one.

Lincoln being brought to that passe as he could not retire with­out ruine, resolved to perish generously by hazarding a Battel. He marched towards Newark, minding to make himself master thereof: but Henry, who at the first news of their landing, was advanced to Coventry, sent some Troops of Light-horse abroad to take Priso­ners, that he might learn News: a superfluous diligence; for he had Spyes amongst them, who advertis'd him of all their proceed­ings. Being come to Nottingham, a Counsel of War was held, wherein it was discust where 'twere better to protract time, or to Fight: the King was for giving Battel, being encouraged by the ac­cesse of 6000 fighting men, most of them Voluntaries, under 70 Colours: the Earl of Shrewsbury and the Lord Strange were the chief Commanders; and that the enemy might not take the ad­vantage of Newark, the King encamped himself between them and the Town. Lincoln, seeing himself so closely pursued, went to Stoke; planting himself upon the side of a little hill, from whence he descended assoon as the King presented him Battel: the which was valiantly fought on Both sides; but of the Man­ner how, there is but Small or very Obscure knowledge. 'Tis held, that of the King's Three Battallions, the Vantguard onely fought, & the other Two moved not at all; which seems the Stran­ger, for that having fought even to the Last man (the one Half of the said Vantguard being Slain) the King would purchase the Vi­ctory at so Dear a rate; which, if he would have suffer'd All his men to have fought, he might have had it better Cheap. All the Chief of the Enemy were slain; Lincoln, Kildare, Lovel, Broughton, and Colonel Swart: great slaughter was made of the unarmed Irish, who budged not one foot from the posture they put themselves in at the Beginning of the fight: the Dutch, who were well armed, and understood their work, died not unrevenged. The Conflict endured Three hours; not likely to have endured so Long, had the Main-battel and the Rere-ward fought. 'Tis said the L. Lo­vel sought to save himself; but finding the Banks of Trent too high for his horse, they were both drowned, as not able to clammer up. [Page 171] Others will have it that he got over the River, and that he lived a long time in a Cave. The King was displeas'd at the Earl of Lincoln's death, not that he Loved him, or out of desire of further Revenge; but that thereby he was bereaved of the means of working out of him, what Correspondency the Dutchesse Mar­garet had in England. There died, Four thousand of the Enemy, the One Half of the Kings Vant-guard; and the Other half were work for the Chirurgions: So roundly were they dealt withal. Not any one of Quality was slain on the King's side. They took many Prisoners: amongst which king Lambert Symnel, otherwise called Edward the Sixth, and Simond his Tutor and Seducer: 'twas thought he should have been rigorously proceeded against; but his yeers (he not being full Sixteen yeers Old) freed him from the Highest of faults. He confest who he was and the Meannesse of his Birth; that the fault proceeded from his Governour, whom he was not wont to disobey. His punishment was the Kitchin; where he was put to the vilest employments; his Scepter and Crown were turned to Spits and Fire-forks: he continued in the office of a Scullion, till by what means I know not, he was prefer­red to be one of the King's Falconers, in which condition he died; not giving any further occasion of Story. The King shewed herein his Wisedom: for had he put him to Death being so Young, and for a fault not of his Own Chusing; Severity might have had the face of Cruelty, and Justice of Injustice; and toge­ther with his Life, his Memory would have been Lost: whereas, by Pardoning him, he gave life to a testimony of his Own Cle­mency, and Others Wickednesse; and instructed the People up­on other occasions. The being a Priest, saved Simond, though worthy of whatsoever punishment: the King was pleased to af­ford him Penitence and Pennance; by giving him leave, during his Life, to bewail his sin in Prison. There is a great difference between Polydor Virgil's calculation of this Battel and that of Other Writers: he affirms it to have happened in the yeer 1489; the rest, in the yeer 1487, on the Sixteenth of Iune, on a Saturday, the day which was observed to be happie and propitious to the King. I follow the Later. The King went not from the Camp till he had given humble thanks to God for the Victory; the which he did likewise three days together at Lincoln; with Processions, and other religious duties; and he sent his Standard to our Ladies Church in Walsingham, whither he had vowed it. He caused some of those that were taken to be put to death; doing the like in York-shire, where diligent search was made after the Rebels: and since it would have been a kinde of Cruelty, to have punished so Many for One fault; he was contented to commute the Blood of their Veins for the Blood of their Purses, imposing great Pecuniary pu­nishments upon them, wherewith both He and They were satisfi'd.

He went to Newcastle; from whence he sent Ambassadours to the King of Scotland, to invite him either to a Treaty of Peace, or to a longer Truce. His being but newly setled in his kingdom, [Page 172] and the Inveteratenesse of the Faction, counselled him to be at quiet with his Neighbours, especially with Scotland: for these two kingdoms being almost Naturally given to be Enemies, they did much harm one to another by fomenting Rebels, and nou­rishing of Seditions. Yet was this peace more requisite for King Iames then for Him. For being a friend to men of Mean condi­tion, and an enemy to the Nobility, he never wanted cause of Fear; so as it behoved him to have Peace with England, that he might punish the Contumacious, and revenge himself upon his enemies. He therefore courteously received the Ambassadours, letting them know there was nothing which he in his heart more desired, then that which they came for; but that there would be great difficulty to make the Parliament condescend thereunto: for that there was an ancient Law which did inhibite Peace, lest the people, growing carelesse, through Idlenesse, and losing their natural vigour, which was conservable by the Use of Arms, might become Lazie; to the prejudice of the State: that therefore they must content themselves with a Truce for Six or Seven yeers; which being obtained, they might Renew from time to time, without much difficulty: for what concern'd Himself, King Henry might assure himself he would Always be his friend: he intreated them howsoever, to keep secret his free Communicati­on with them; otherwise they would ruine the businesse; for nothing would be granted which should be known they had desired of him. Henry was contented with a Truce of Seven yeers; which being obtained, he returned to London; where, being taught by the last events, that his hatred to the House of York had been the cause of all the disorders that had ensued, he prepared for the Coronation of his Wife; which was effected the Five and twentieth of November; which was in the Third yeer of his Reign, and almost Two yeers after he had married her. 'Twas generally believed this resolution proceeded from Any thing else rather then from Good-will, the affections where­with we are born being as hard to be concealed, as to be laid aside. Neither is it to be marvelled at if Henry born during the time of Hatred and Civil wars, wherein he had lost his estate, and been kept Prisoner till he was Ten yeers old; carried Exile into Bri­tanny; demanded from thence by Edward and Richard; granted and sold to the former; to the Second sold, but not granted; and saved, as it were by miracle, from the hands of Both of them: it is no marvel, I say, if the Remembrance of these things did confirm him in the above-said hatred, and that that Hatred was converted to his very Nature and Blood, against the Blood of those who had laid traps to Ensnare and to Destroy him. But neither did his memory fail him in what concern'd Good Turns; for the cloud of Dangers and Suspitions being blown over, he set the Marquesse Dorset at liberty: and that he might know his impri­sonment had proceeded from the Jealousies of the Times, and not from any Evil he had Done him, he suffered not those Ce­remonies [Page 173] to be used to Him, which usually are to such as are im­prison'd for any fault.

His affairs being thus quieted, he dispatched away an Ambas­sadour to Pope Innocent the Eighth to give him advertisement thereof, and to thank him for having honoured his Maariage with the assistance of his Nuntio, offering Himself and his Kingdom to be upon all occasions at his Service: for which the Pope, by way of correspondency, gratified him, by Moderating the Priviledges of Sanctuaries, and other Priviledg'd places; and by sending him a Bull; which was welcome and advantageous to him; for thereby Traytors became lesse bold. We have hitherto, spoken of the affairs Within the kingdom; we must now passe on to External businesses, to the which the King could not Before at­tend, being busied about Home-affairs which more concerned him.

The designes of Lewis the Eleventh King of France, father to Charles the Eighth who at this time reigned, were to establish himself within the limits of his own Kingdom, and such bounds as confin'd upon his kingdom, by readjoyning unto it whatsoe­ver at sundry times had been dismembred from it, either by Ap­pennages, or Otherwise; and to beat down the Authority of Princes and great Lords that hindered him in his designe, which was to become Absolute: to bring this to effect, it was necessary for him to collogue with England (which was the onely place able to disturb him) and prodigally to present it; whereby ha­ving laid it asleep as he desired, he reunited to the Crown the Dukedoms of Burgundy and Anjou, the Counties of Bar, and of Provence, together with all the best places of Piccardy. He in­tended to do the like to the Dukedom of Britanny, but not effect­ing it, he left the care thereof to his son Charles, who though very Young, did fully bring it to passe. For Peter de Landois, a proud and insolent Officer of the Duke of Britanny, having in­cens'd the Nobility of the Dutchy, and called in Lewis, Duke of Orleans, to his aid, by making Anne (the Eldest daughter and Heir to that State) be promised to him in Marriage by her Father; the Barons had recourse unto Charles, who being entred with Four several Armies, into Four several parts of their Countrey, made them too late perceive, that they had not call'd him in to Assist them, but to Destroy them. The Duke of Britanny, who knew his Forces too weak to withstand the King's, had recourse to Henry, to whom Charles had already sent Ambassadours to shew him, That the chief Princes of the Blood and greatest Lords of his Kingdom being retired into Britanny (under pretence of Re­fuge, but in effect that being joyned to that Duke, they might mischief Him the more) he was forced to take up Arms, and necessitated to war for his Own Defence, and to Prevent him that sought His ruine: that the war was Defensive on His side; that he pursued Rebels in a Prince's Countrey, who owing Ho­mage to Him, ought not to have received them, and much lesse [Page 174] to have Conspired against him with them: wishing him to re­member, that if the Duke of Britanny had done him any favour, he had marr'd the merit of it; since it failed on his part, that he might have been utterly ruined, by being deliver'd up to Richard: that he did not pretend to remember him of the Assistance and Favours he had received from Him, which were done out of meer Affection, and contrary to what Reason should have perswaded him to for his Own good; since it had been better for him, that a Tyrant, like Richard, should have reigned in England, then so vertuous a King as was he: That if he would rightly weigh both their good turns, he should finde His proceeded from true Friend­ship; the Duke's, from Self-interest: That he did not desire a Requital of Assistance, knowing that he was but Newly possest of the Kingdom, which he had purchas'd with great Expence and Trouble; but onely that he would stand Neuter: That he would not, by aiding the Duke, hinder the just progresse of hi [...] Arms, justly to punish Rebels; and to give due correction to him that had, contrary to all Law, received them. He herewitha [...] acquainted him with his having taken some certain Towns from the Archduke Philip in Flanders; affirming he had not done it out of any Ill-will, but for that it behoved him a little to Quell him: the difference between them, for any thing else, being Little or Nothing, they being Neighbours, and he to marry his sister. He said this to disswade Henry from believing that he made war in Britanny to Possesse himself thereof; and to honest the Usurpa­tion by Marrying the Heir, as he intended, and as he did: and to make him believe this the rather, he discover'd unto him (as a businesse of great Trust) his designes upon the Kingdom of Naples; as if the attempt upon Naples, which was but an imaginati­on in Future, were not compatible with his Present Real attempt upon Britanny.

Henry was displeased at this Embassie, Two Princes being therein concern'd, of which he knew not whether to prefer, be­ing obliged to them Both, and equally favoured by them Both. He knew Charles did but Dissemble; that the injury he did the Duke was unjust, and hurtful for England: that France might peradventure have reason enough to be Offended with Britanny, but none to Subdue it: The danger was great: The Duke was Old, Sickly, and for the most part out of his Wits: He had no issue Male; Females, the weaker they are and Marriageable, the fitter are they to serve for an occasion of Oppressing the Coun­trey: The Nobility was Mistrustful; the People, wavering: He objected to himself, that the Duke having preserved Him so many yeers, against the Treacheries of so many Enemies, he was, in Honour, obliged to do the like for him; wherewithal it like­wise became him to preserve the freedom of Commerce unto his Kingdom; which would be Lost, or much Lessen'd, should it fall into the hands of such a King, who if by reason of what he al­ready possessed, he were of so great might as he became formid [Page 175] able to his neighbours, and those that lived further from him, what would his greatnesse become when it should be Augmented by the Addition of a Dukedom equal to a Kingdom, rich in No­bility, People, Seas, and Ports? But having been likewise Obli­ged to Charles, he could not (without the Badge of Ingratitude) treat him like an Enemy. To do then what he ought to do (which was not to Declare himself Against the One, nor Suffer the Other to be Undone) it behoved him to have Evident Reasons (should he do Otherwise) whereby it might Appear that he was Per­force induced thereunto. His Obligation being Equal, his duty of gratitude could not be Dispensed withal to Either of them: so as, desirous to carry himself Indifferent where Circumstances were Equal, as in his Obligations; it behoved him to do Other­wise, where Circumstances Differ'd, as in Interest of State, and Justice; Two ponderous weights, Both of which were put into the Duke's Scale. Having then answer'd the Ambassadours in matters of Lesser importance, as in the businesse of Flanders, he told them, He found himself bound in a Like bond of obligati­on to the King and to the Duke: That the cause of his flight from Britanny into France, was not from the Duke, but through the wickednesse and malice of his Officer, Landois: He must con­fesse he Oft hath owed his Life unto him, having had divers trea­cherous plots contrived against him by the corruption of his Ser­vants; that He never failed him, neither in Will, nor Deed: So as finding himself in this condition with them Both, he hoped that his Interposing himself as a Friend between them, might produce that Peace which was to be desired; and to which end he would forthwith dispatch away an Ambassadour to him. They being dismiss'd with this answer, he bent all his endeavours to work a Reconciliation between them, that he might not be En­forced to take up Arms; the which if against his will he Must do, he was resolved to employ them to Preserve Britanny: nei­ther did he believe fortune would prove so favourable to Charles, but that He might have time to Negotiate this businesse, ground­ing his Confidence upon the great Oppositions he had; on the one side, Maximilian; on the other, the Forces of Britanny; and the Orleanists in the Bowels of his Kingdom ready to raise a Civil war, which he was not likely Quickly to quit his hands of: toge­ther with the Inconstancy of his Young yeers, able to make him Change his minde; especially he being environ'd with men of Mean condition, who rather make their fortunes in Court-chan­ges, then in Chances of War. Upon these supposals (which proved all false) he sent his Chaplain Christopher Ursewick into France: he gave him order that if he found Charles disposed to Peace, he should instantly go to Britanny, and conclude it in the best manner he could. Ursewick came to France, where Charles made him believe he did passionately desire Peace, whilst he was far from it; he therefore past on into Britanny, thinking he had done Half of his work; but he found he was deceived; for [Page 176] the young King handled the businesse with so much Subtlety, as he that had been longest Experienced and Verst in businesse, could not have done it better. He seemed to be very desirous of Peace, knowing that Ursewick's pains would be to no purpose; for the Duke of Britanny was not in case to rely upon his Own Judge­ment (having indeed None at all) and the Duke of Orleans would not hear of it; for being injured by him, it was not likely he should trust him. He on the other side, should by this means justifie himself to Henry; since the making of peace stuck not at Him; so as he should not have any occasion to enterprise ought against Him, the fault (in all appearance) not being His. Urse­wick being come to Britanny, found the Duke so very ill, as it was impossible for him to treat with him, who had lost almost all the faculties of judgement: it behoved him to treat with the Duke of Orleans, whom he acquainted with the King his Master's de­sire, and with the good inclination he found in the King of France thereunto; so as there remained nothing to establish a good A­greement, but to conclude upon the means, to every one's satis­faction. The Duke being far from any such thought, knowing that Charles his intention was other then he made shew for, and he himself thirsting to make war with Another man's purse, and with the hopes of getting the Dutchy of Britanny, an­swer'd, He wonder'd that so Wise a King as Henry would suffer himself to be over-reached by so very Young a King as Charles: and that those reasons, to which he was bound by Honour and Gratitude, bore no sway with him: that he should do well to re­member the Duke of Britanny had been in lieu of a Father t [...] him, from his Childhood, till his promotion to the Crown; to the which (though Nature, Birth, and the Kingdom had play'd their parts) he had Never attained, had he not used that charity towards him, which obliged Henry to do the like for Him: that the present Mediation did not correspond with the businesse: that it was Destructive; but Useful for Charles; who thereby would gain time to do that which otherwise he could not: that Aid was expected from Henry worthy of the Greatnesse of his Minde, of his Tye of Friendship, and of the imminent Danger: the fair Appearances of France were nothing but Fraud and Cozenage; 'twould be too Late, Dangerous, and Dishonourable, to know it by the Event: that if Henry would believe Charles to be of as Candid a minde as was He himself, he might do well to believe it with his Sword in Hand; so that if it should prove Otherwise, he might be ready to Chastise him that had abused him: by do­ing this, he should acquit himself on All hands, nor could any one have just cause to complain of him: And if the reasons of Gratitude (which were the same with those of Honour) were not of force enough to perswade him, he ought to do it out of reason of State; and take upon him that defence in Time, with­out Offending Any One, which, should he undertake Unseason­ably, would be offensive to All Three; to France, by opposing [Page 177] it in Open War; to Britanny, by giving it too Late succour; and to England, by permitting a Great King to Increase in Power, State, and Situation, hurtful to that Kingdom; who was set up­on on all sides, subject to the discretion of England, upon whose pleasure he depended, having Seas, Ports, Commerce, and all that could accommodate, or incommodate; secure, or endanger England. Ursewick was ready to answer, That Princes could not chuse but in some sort believe one another, especially where an Obliged friendship plays the part of a Surety; not that Wisedom may not have her Exceptions, but that she should too largely dis­pose of her self, if where there is Parity of Friendship, and Ob­ligation, she should believe a friend to be what he ought not to be: that Henry's obligations to France arose from Britanny's failing him; which if it were not through any fault of the Duke, 'twas through the fault of Landois, Fortune, and Chance: 'Twas Chance, that when fleeing from England, he would have gone to France, brought him into Britanny: Fortune, when he would have stay'd in Britanny, brought him into France; whither he would not have gone, nor have had any obligation to the King thereof, had it not been for danger of being sold to Richard by Landois: He did not accuse the Duke of this; but neither ought the Duke to accuse him, if Fortune bore him to Divide between Two, that obligation which was formerly due to Him alone: He could not but confesse this without the mark of Ingratitude; neither could he take One of them into his consideration, and leave the Other neglected: More time was requir'd to arm by Sea and Land, then to send an Embassie; the One did not hinder the O­ther: That an Ambassadour served for a Soul to such businesses as were to be brought to Life; no resolutions of importance be­ing taken between Prince and Prince, but by Mediation. But Ursewick not being suffer'd to say This, nor what more he would have said (for the Duke arose from him and would not hear him) he returned to Charles; who told him, He had rightly foretold that the Duke of Orleans would not, un-enforced, yeeld to any Pacification: that he would endeavour to force him to it, as his obstinacy required; in the mean time he desired Henry not to de­sist from doing good offices: for by continuation thereof that Peace would be effected which He desired; to which he, for his part, would Never be Averse: and that, under such conditions as Henry should prescribe him. Lewis, the father of this Prince, would never suffer this his son to be taught more Latine then Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare; wherein he so well profited, as not having his brains troubled with any Other lesson, and be­ing thought by reason of his rough nature, to have but a blunt judgement, he deceived all men, especially Ursewick; whereby the King, his Master, was likewise deceived. Some think that Henry's credulity was but feigned, that he might have an Excuse not to intricate himself in a War he Hated, and which would be of great Trouble to him. But if he were not Deceived, he [Page 178] deceived Himself: for hoping it would be hard for Charles to make any Progresse in this businesse (being unable at the same time to beat the Forces of Britanny, and Orleans his party) it proved clean Otherwise.

The French Army being entred Britanny, and brought in by the confederate Barons, made them soon repent it. The Articles greed upon between them were instantly broken; Cities besieged, taken and Sacked; no difference being put between the grounds and territories of the Confederate, and Not confederate: whilst the Duke, abandon'd by his Subjects, and not assisted by his friends, escaped narrowly being taken at Vannes, from whence with much ado he got to Nantes; where being besieged and destitute of hope, he sent the Count of Dunois and Viscount Coteman, to get aid from England: who having ridden by night thorow Forests and desert places in great danger, the Countrey being wholly possest by the Enemy, got to S. Malo; where they unluckily put four times to Sea, and were as often driven back; so as they gave over their employment, believing the succour they went for would come too Late, and that therefore they must look for some from Else­where; but it was more then needed: For the Frenchmen, de­spairing to win the Town, gave over the Siege.

Charles whilst he besieged Nantes, had sent Bernard of Aubeny in­to 1488 England to re-assure the King of his desire of Peace: and he either believing it, or seeming so to do, named the Abbot of Abing­ton, Sir Richard Tunsdal, and the former Ursewick, his Commissioners, to treat thereof; giving them full Authority, though the circum­stances afforded little hope. Which Edward Woodvile, Uncle to the Queen, a gallant Gentleman, perceiving, he desired leave to go to assist the Duke with a Troop of Voluntiers, with which he would Privately steal over, so as the King of France should have occasion to complain of none but of Him. It is not known whether the King did Privately give way thereunto or no, but in Publike he denied his request, charging him not to depart from Court: not­withstanding he went to the Isle of Wight, where of he was Gover­nour, and raised there Four hundred fighting men, with which he sailed into Britanny; causing thereby such an alteration among those of the Court of France, as the Commissioners would have been evilly intreated, had not Charles (whose conscience accused him) seemed to believe that Woodvile was come of his Own head, since the Reputation of England, and the Need of Britanny required Other manner of aid then Four hundred men. The Commissioners having discover'd his minde, return'd to England, and acquainted the King, that Charles his desire of Peace was but counterfeit, the better to gain time, and to make him lose the opportunity of hindering him from the Usurpation of Britanny. Whereupon Henry resolved to Call a Parliament; wherein succour being re­solved upon, he raised Moneys and muster'd Souldiers, sending word to Charles, that his Kingdom liked not this war with Bri­tanny made by him; there having always been an un-inter­rupted [Page 179] Friendship between that Dutchy and England; wherefore they could not now abandon it, since their Own commodity was concerned in the Losse thereof: that He therefore could not op­pose his People, as Charles himself might judge: that he thought good to give him Notice hereof, as well to the end that his Mo­ving or Marching might not be News unto him, as likewise to en­treat him that he would take away the Cause of his so doing; which if he would not, he assured him that his succour should onely tend to the Defence of Britanny; from whence if the French would withdraw themselves, they should not be Pursued by his men, nor fought withal, Out of Britanny: so as their Friendship was not to go Lesse in the said War. The Ambassa­dours arrived when Charles had brought the businesse to such a passe, as he needed not greatly weigh the Late resolutions of England; having received news of the surrender of Ancenis, Fou­geres, Saint Aibine di Cormier, and not long after, that the Armies had met, and that the Britons were discomfited. The French-men thought that the Duke's Army would bend themselves for the Recovery of Saint Albine; as they did: whereupon follow­ing them, and coming up to them not far from thence, they fought with them, and had the Victory: they slew the Four hundred English, with Woodvile their Commander; took the Duke of Or­leans, and the Prince of Orange, prisoners; who would not have purchased their Liberties at so Cheap a rate as they did, had it not been for their Wives; (Orleans his wife being the King's sister, and Orange's wife sister to the Duke of Burbon) for after divers Removals from one prison to another, they, by the Inter­cession of their Wives, obtained Liberty and Pardon. Henry, understanding of this defeat, sent Eight thousand fighting men into Britanny under the Conduct of the Lord Brook, which joyn­ing themselves with the Duke's Forces, marched towards the Enemy, who knowing they loved not to Encamp themselves, but to come to Blowes, thought to cool their heat by Intrenching their Army, and sallying out with their Light-horse; which they did; but with more Losse then Gain.

This mean while Francis the Second, Duke of Britanny, died, leaving Two Daughters behinde him; the younger whereof di­ed not many months after, and left the Inheritance wholly to Anne: but the subversion of her State was caused by her father's death. A month before this, the Duke was constrain'd to Com­pound with Charles, and subscribe to the Articles of Agree­ment, remitting the Difference to Arbitratours. Charles preten­ded to this Dukedom out of Two reasons: by the pretences of Iohn de Brosse and Nicholas of Britanny, which were yeelded up to his father Lewis the Eleventh; and by the rights of the Vis­count of Rohan, descended from Mary of Britanny, sister to Mar­garet, the first wife of Francis the Second, the which right or claim the said Viscount had surrendred up to this Charles: and these Two sisters, being Daughters to Francis the First, would in [Page 180] succession have preceded Peter the Second, Arthur, and Francis the Second, had not Women been excluded from men of Name and Coat of Britanny, as were the Three above-named. The which being then brought into question, made the dispute more intri­cate; though it should not so have done: for the Former Two's grant was annull'd in the Abbey de Victoire, by a Treaty made with Lewis himself: and the Viscount Rohan's relinquishment (made by him, not that he believed he had any Right thereunto, but to please Charles) was of no Validity, since he descended from Wo­men, and the Nullification of such pretences appeared in his Contract of Marriage, in the Wills of the Dukes, and in the De­crees of the State of Britanny. Reasons which though they were all of force enough, yet were they not able to weigh against the force of the Weaker; for the weakest pretences are sufficient, so they have power enough to prove their right by force. The King was Young, and every one about him pretended to get an Armful of Wood by the fall of this Tree; the Sister, for her part had already, in her conceipt, devoured the City of Nantes: the Britons, who were Partakers, pretended to participate there­in; whilst the rest that saw their fortunes and welfare depend upon the Weaknesse of an abandoned Orphan Maiden, and un­der the Sword of a Powerful King, resolved to Declare them­selves for him, before they were by force Constrained so to do. Whereupon the English, not able to Save what ran to so Head­long a Ruine, returned into England, after they had spent Eight months in Britanny, and done nothing.

The Parliament had given certain Subsidies for the payment of these men; which were readily paid by all the Shires save York-shire and the Bishoprick of Durham; which Two Counties flatly denied to pay any. They alleadged that they had suffered great grievances the Last yeers past; and for the Present they had not backs to bear any More. This contempt proceeded from the Love they bore to the House of York, and their Hatred to the present King. The Commissioners for the Assessing and Gathering of the Subsidies wanting means whereby to enforce them, knew not what to do; for all and every one of these Two Counties agreed in a joyn'd Negative to the Parliament's De­cree. They went to advise about it with the Earl of Northum­berland, who wrote thereof unto the King; and received answer, That the Subsidies were given by Parliament, and pay'd by all the rest of the Kingdom; and that he would have them of Them, without the Abatement of one Peny. The Earl, calling together the prime Gentlemen of the Countrey, acquainted them with the King's answer; who believing he had framed it of his Own head, broke into his house, and slew him, together with many of his Servants. This being done, they chose Sir Iohn Egremond for their Head; and appointed Iohn à Chamber to him for Counsellour; both which were Seditious men. Their con­ceit was to meet the King, and give him Battel in defence of their [Page 181] Liberties; the which the King understanding, he commanded Thomas, Earl of Surrey (lately before taken out of the Tower) to compel them; which he did by Discomfiting them, and taking à Chamber prisoner. Egremont fled into Flanders to the Dutchesse Margaret; à Chamber was hanged upon a high Gallows at York; and some others of the Chiefest of them, were hanged round about him, but somewhat Lower. This was the end of this Rebel­lion.

Iames the Third, King of Scotland, and friend to Henry, died this yeer; who was brought to a miserable Period, rather by evil Counsel, then evil Nature. He had naturally good inclinations, but they were poison'd by the practice of a kinde of people which hath always been Ominous and Pestilential to Princes: an inconvenience which always hath been and will be whilst the World lasts. His thirst after Absolute Sovereignty, was as great as is the thirst of one sick of a Burning Fever, not to be quench­ed by all the water of Nilus. He valued not Legal authority, but sought for that which was not permitted by the Constitutions nor Laws of the Kingdom: His ruine arose from hating Liberty in such as gave him Good Counsel: and in loving Flattery in those who advised him Ill; the which they did, not to incur the danger of his Disfavour: and so made him fall upon his Own Ruine. Amongst the chiefest of his injuries to his Nobility, was his breach of Faith; so as they not believing any more in him, nor trusting him, there ensued a Rebellion; and wanting a Head for a businesse of so great Consequence, they thought to make use of the Prince, a Youth of about Fifteen yeers of Age; and under the shadow of the Son, to send the Father to eternal Darknesse: but the Prince being endued with much Worth, would not accept so detestable a Charge: whereupon they made him believe they would give themselves up to England, deprive him of his Birth-right, and possibly of his Life: so as, thus threatned, he gave way to their Will. Iames, this mean while, having made means to Pope Innocent the Eighth, and to his Two Neighbour-Kings of England and France, might have been suc­coured all in good time, had he had patience to expect them in the Castle of Edenborough, a safe place: but he judging Strivelin to be a more convenient place to receive those in, whom he en­pected from the Northern parts of his Kingdom, was in going thither, fought withal, and beaten; whereupon retyring to a Water Mill, with intention to save himself in certain Ships, which were not far off, he was miserably slain: and Iames the Fourth, his Son, by way of Pennance girt himself with a Chain of Iron, to which he added one Link every yeer as long as he lived. Pope Innocent had dispatcht away Adrian de Corneto, upon this occasion for Scotland, a man of noble conditions, who came to London Two days before the news of this unfortunate accident: he thought presently to have returned; but was detained by the King enamoured of his good parts, which were by Morton, [Page 182] Archbishop of Canterbury, commended unto him. Neither were they any whit deceived; for being a man greatly Experienced in the affairs of the world, to boot with his Learning (Polydore gives him the attribute of the Restorer of the Latine tongue, and the most Eloquent next Cicero) he came to the highest de­grees of Preferment. The King gave him the Bishoprick of Hereford; which he refusing, he gave him that of Bath and Wells, and made use of him in all his businesses depending at Rome: which made him (being promoted to be a Cardinal) acknow­ledge his favours, and give him continual Advertisements of the affairs of Italy. This man afterwards through ambition of being Pope, ruined his Honour, his Fortune and Himself: it being verified in Him, that Learning is unprofitable if the End thereof be not how to lead a good life. The reason of his ruine was, that Cardinal Alphonso Petrucchio, having together with certain other Cardinals, his Confederates, plotted the death of Pope Leo the Tenth, there were Three that were not Of this Confe­deracy, but Knew of it; Riario, Soderini, and this Adrian: who not medling in the businesse, did notwithstanding Wish it might take Effect; for each of them aspired to be Pope. Paulus Iovius relating the causes which made Riario and Soderini hate the Pope, when he comes to speak of Adrian, says: ‘But Adrian, not mo­ved by Hatred, but by a vain Desire of Rule, wisht Leo's death because he had conceived a hope to be Pope by reason of the words of a Woman-Soothsayer; who having long before this (being asked by him) told him many things touching his Own fortune, and the Publike affairs of the World; told him for a truth, that if Pope Leo should die an unnatural death, an old man call'd Adrian, should succeed him, famous for his Learning, who building onely upon Vertue, had without any Help from his Ancestors, gotten the highest Ecclesiastical prefer­ments: and it seemed all this was found in Him. For being born at Corneto a poor Village in Toscany, of mean mechanical parentage, he by his Learning had arrived at all the preferment of Holy Orders. Neither did the Old woman foretel a False­hood: for one Adrian an old Dutch-man, son to a poor Artifi­cer, famous for his Learning, was by much good fortune, made Pope after Leo. And a while after he says; Soderini by vo­luntary Exile withdrew himself to the Territories of Fondi; but Adrian being fearful and suspitious, not trusting to Leo's clemency, went from Rome in a Countrey-fellow's habit; and not being pursued by any, changed from place to place, still seeking to hide himself, till he died.’ And Guicchiardine speak­ing more clearly of him, says; ‘ Adrian and Volterra were not any ways troubled, save onely that they under-hand pay'd certain sums of money: but neither of them daring to trust their Safeties in Rome, as neither did it become their Dignities; Vol­terra with leave from the Pope went to Fondi, where he staid till the Pope's death, under the protection of Prospero Colonna: [Page 183] As for Adrian, he privately stole away, it never being known what became of him.’ I was desirous to relate the intire History of this great man, for our instruction: for Two distinct species of ambition are therein comprehended; the one Praise-worthy, the other Not: which may be compared to Two Horses; the Praise-worthy is like a stately well-managed horse, which in due time doth all things by obeying the hand: the other like a hair­brain'd ill-ridden horse. Adrian rid both these: the first brought him Safely and without Danger to his old age; the second over­threw him, and lost him to the world. A rare example, and un­parallel'd in a man of so much Worth: for to perish and die in Persecution, is that which at all times befals Many; but I have not heard of Any man that perished and for Fear of death Died, whilst Alive, save this alone.

The affairs of Britanny after Duke Francisco's death were so encumber'd, as no good was to be expected. The Dutchesse was Young, her governours Unfaithful, the greatest part and best of the Barons Alienated, the Others upon designes respecting their Particular interests; and the State as it was by many pretended unto by Marriage, so was it by many Practis'd upon. The father had, at sundry times, promised the now-Dutchesse his daughter to Three several men: first, to Maximilian, who lost her through Negligence: after, to the Duke of Orleans (though he were married) who lost her, by being taken Prisoner: lastly, to Al­bert, who had her not because She would not have Him. But Charles, a tacite pretender, got her; who seemed not, till long after her father's death, to have any intention toward her. Her first inclinations were to Maximilian, to whom she was solemnly promised; her second, to Orleans, she being made believe that his First marriage was Invalid. She abhorred Charles as an Ene­my and Perturber of her quiet, and the Destroyer of her State: a natural Antipathy, or rather Ambition to be Queen of the Ro­manes, made her not regard Albert. Honour and Title are able to do much; and Albert, though he was very Noble and not a Subject, yet was he Vassal to the Crown of France. He was de­scended by the Mother's side from the House of Britanny. Mar­garet daughter to Iohn the Fifth, wife to Alaine the Ninth Vis­count of Rohan, had Three daughters, the Second whereof was Mother to this man, surnamed the Great Alaine: the Eldest was married into the House of Rieulx; and the Youngest to Iohn of Orleans, Count d' Angoulesme, who was father to Francis the first, King of France. Duke Francis had offer'd him his daughter upon hopes of great succour; which proved but Small and Tardy: for he judging it necessary to interest Ferdinand and Isabella in this war, to the end they might not annoy his son the King of Navar, (they being offended that in the marriage of the Queen, he was prefer'd before the Prince of Castile, for whom they would have had her) he went to them to Valencia; and complaining that Charles had seized on his State for having brought the interest [Page 184] of his son to the Crown of Navar, against the Viscount of Nar­bonne, whom Charles favoured; he desired them to take him into their protection, and together with Him the aforesaid King; as likewise the Dukes of Orleans and Britanny, to defend them from the violence of such as abused the Authority of the King of France: offering in their names to cause the Territories of Ros­sillion and of Cerdagna, which Iohn the King of Arragon had pawn'd to Lewis the Eleventh, to be restored to Catalonia. Having obtain­ed what he demanded, and moreover certain Troops under the Command of Gralla, the Steward of their House, he returned to Guascoigne; and joyning these Forces to his (which all together made about Four thousand men) he would not passe the River Garonne till the promise of Marriage was confirm'd unto him: which if it had been done, the Reward had much exceeded the Service; the promise being made, with intent to have Forces able to Repulse the enemy, which he had not. whereupon Hen­ry, considering that the King of France was likely by this Marri­age to make himself master of Britanny, unlesse he should meet with some great obstacle, he counselled Maximilian to pursue it again; since, Orleans being excluded, Albert refus'd, and Charles (who seemed not to pretend thereunto, being already married) not likely to get her, His hopes might be good. There was none that more molested the Orphan Princesse, then did her Gover­nour the Marshal of Rieulx; for quitting his Obedience, to Force her to marry Albert, he had put the remainder of her estate, not yet possest by the French, in confusion. But she (resolved rather to take a Cloister then to marry Him) sent into Flanders to Ma­ximilian, and to Ferdinand of Spain for succour: she sent at the same time to Henry of England, who sent her the Eight thousand men; whilst Maximilian not able to pursue the Match, was lesse able to Succour her. For the Dutch had so shut him up, as he was not able to help Himself, much lesse to assist Her. His wife had left him Two children, Philip and Margaret: the inhabitants of Gaunt and Bruges had taken them from him; and had given Four Tutours of Their ordaining to Philip, and married Margaret, an Infant of Three yeers old, to Charles, during the life of his fa­ther Lewis the Eleventh: and contrary to all reason of good Go­vernment, they cut off Artois and the French County from the States of the Low-countreys, and gave them in Portion with her: they likewise kept him Prisoner a long time; and granted him not his Liberty till he had Sworn to Pardon all Offences, and Never to take Revenge for them. And though his father the Emperour (not liking so Unworthy agreements) came to his Succour; yet did he not at all help him: for he returned to Ger­many, not having done any thing but irritated the more those peo­ple (of whom Monsieur de Ravestein had made himself Head, backt by the Governour of Piccardy, who went immediately to besiege Desmunde) and left him in case hardly able to Defend Himself, much lesse to Assist Others. But Henry not willing to [Page 185] Break with France, nor yet to let Flanders be lost; sent the Lord Morley to Monsieur Dawbeny, Governour of Callis with One thousand men, under pretence of a Supply for the Garison on that side the Sea; but with secret order to succour Desmunde; the which he so well obeyed, that to those Thousand another Thousand being added, which he drew from the Garison of Hammes in Guisnes, he passed over the water of Graveling by night, and got into New­port; where augmenting his Forces with Six hundred Germanes which he found there, and led by a trusty guide into Desmunde, the Enemy (which lay on the other side) not perceiving it: he set upon them unawares, and was victorious; slew Eight thousand, and got all their Artillery and Baggage. The cause of so great slaughter, was this; Morley being the onely man who amongst so many fought on Horse-back, was unhors'd and slain; whereat his men were so enraged, that they slew their Prisoners, and together with them, all those that could not flee away: not above Two hundred of Them being slain. Monsieur Daubeny returned to Callis, having left his wounded men and the booty at Newport; affording thereby a thought of Recovering it to Monsieur Cordes who was at Ypre: he brought Twenty thousand men with him thi­ther; play'd upon the Town, and gave an Assault. The De­fendants did their parts Manfully, and were helped by such as were left Wounded there: after a long fight, they lost one Tower upon which Cordes planted the French Colours; and was likely to have won all the Rest, had not Fortune disfavour'd him at that very Instant, by a Small Succour which entred the Town from Callis: for Dawbeny knowing the slendernesse of the Garison, had embarked Fourscore chosen Souldiers to Abet them, till such time as he might send Greater Forces to Free them Altogether. These men arriving in the Heat of the fight, whilst the Defeud­ants fought out of Meer Courage (for New wounds being added to what they had Formerly received, they could scarcely stand upon their legs) they ran to the Walls, drave back the Besiegers, regained the Tower, and this with such Forward Valour, as Cor­des believing them to be a much Greater number, raised the Siege: whereupon this Personal Disgrace added to his former National Hatred, he swore, He would be content to be Seven yeers in Hell, so he might have the fortune to take Callis from the English.

Henry, not contented to have assisted Maximilian with Arms, en­deavoured to do the like with Counsel: he perswaded him to re-assume the businesse of the Marriage, and to Conclude it with the Dutchesse, as hath been said. Which counsel he presently embraced, and sent Four Ambassadours to her, to whom he gave the Count de Nassau for their Chrief, with Commission, that when all things were agreed upon, the Count should marry her in His name, as he did; and used therein a Ceremony not accustomed in those times for ought I know: The Dutchesse being lay'd in her Bed, the Count (in the presence of many Lords and Ladies) [Page 186] put one of his Leggs between the Sheets in signe of Consum­mation of the Marriage, holding, all the while, Maximilian's Proxie in his hand. Belforest denies this Marriage by Proxie; and to boot with the reasons he alleadges for his opinion, one chief one is, That if it had been so, the Annales of Britanny would have made some Mention of it: I confesse I have not read Them, nor do I know the Author's name: I have read Argentres, the last who hath written thereof, and he alleadges for his Testimony the Records of that Countrey: he says, That the Dutchesse after this Marriage assumed the title of Queen, and that the publike Acts and Proclamations were made in the Names of Maximilian and Anne by the Grace of God, King and Queen of the Romanes, Duke and Dutchesse of Britanny. But Maximilian did not pursue this his ad­vantage with requisite effects; for believing he had so Consum­mated this Marriage as it could not be Broken, he neglected the sending of Aid into Britanny: so as leaving it to Fortune, which favours the Provident, it did frown upon Him, who Negligent in his affairs, did not almost ever do any thing, which, though it might Begin well, had a good End. He was endued with very Excellent qualities; but abounding with Bad ones likewise, by which his good parts being born down, all his undertakings pro­ved, for the most part, unfortunate. His Valour, Knowledge in Military affairs, and his good Understanding in matters of Counsel, became un-useful to him through his ill Government. He never raised Moneys for making of a War, but that he had Spent them before the War was Begun: he was one of those that can tell how to Propound, but not how to put in Execution: wise in Discourse, foolish in Action: so as if it had been possible to have furnished him with one to have Executed his Projections, nothing had remained to have been desired in him. I have sometimes thought it impossible, that the understanding Conceiving aright, should work Evil Effects; and that it being our Directour, it should not be of force enough to make our Actions conformable to those Idea's upon which they depend: but daily practice shews me I was in an Errour.

He then not having done what he ought to have done, Charles 1490 believed it behov'd him to do what became him: wherefore Charles betook himself to a double remedy: To the Dutchesse, in Countermining her Marriage with Maximilian, by endeavouring to marry her Himself; for so he was advised to do by those who bore the greatest sway with him: and to Henry, by sending Am­bassadours to him, who were Francis Lord of Luxenburgh, Charles de Marignan, and Roger Gaguine the Writer of the French Story. Their Instructions were to treat a League or Peace with him; which was desired by him, not that he (Charles) might the more securely turn his Forces upon Italy, but out of an Affection that he bore unto him (Henry) from the first day he saw him, either out of Natural Sympathie, or Heavenly Constellation: He knew there was no Enmity between them, but that the casual encounters [Page 187] of their Subjects in Flanders, and in Britanny, did require a Con­firmation thereof: that he did not accuse his actions in this be­half, it being a thing certain, that Frontire-wars draw Princes to them, as Wounds do Humours; so as such effects being Natural, they ought not to be esteemed the motives of Ill-will: that for such he esteemed them, and so interpreted them; wherefore he likewise desired to be excused; for if he had made war upon Bri­tanny, 'twas for that his Honour, and the Preservation of his due Prerogative, would not suffer him to do otherwise: and if up­on Flanders, still out of the same considerations; because those of Flanders, being under the Soveraign Protection of France, op­pressed by their Prince, and fleeing to Him for Succour, he could not chuse but assist them: and though the casual encounters of the French and English Nations, had not thereupon raised a For­mal War, yet a Consolidation of Friendship between those Two Nations was requisite, to the end that when he should have turn­ed his Arms elsewhere, the World might not rest in doubt of it: that he would acquaint him with his more Secret designes, as an Earnest of the Confidence he would always use with him; that his intention was not to conquer the Kingdom of Naples, a King­dom which of right belonged to him; and that from thence (by God's assistance) he would passe into Turkey and wage war with those Infidels; a thought worthy to be favour'd by all Christian Princes, much more by a Christian King, and a Friend, as was Henry: and for that the war with Britanny might move some jea­lousies in him, the true Reasons whereof not being known, he gave him to understand, that, that Countrey being Feudatary to him, it became him in his reputation to preserve his rights there­in; amongst which one was, that the Heir could not marry with­out his Consent: that the Dutchesse having done otherwise, in freely disposing of her self without the Consent of Him her So­veraign, it behoved him (with his good leave) to match her so as might not be prejudicial to his Crown; to the which he hoped He would give way, as to a thing becoming the reason of State and Justice. Henry, perceiving that the King of France would have him swallow up a bitter Pill wrapt up in Leaf-gold, caused an­swer to be made to the Ambassadours, That Peace ought not to be treated of thereby to make War upon one's Friends; that to Demand it was Unjust, Most unjust to Grant it: He had too much of interest with Britanny, to abandon it: That the pro­ceedings held by Charles, were not like those of a Lord, who intends to keep his right of Fee-farm; but like those of an Ene­my, which intends Usurpation: That his Correction (say it were just and necessary) needed not to be imposed by so Unjust means, and such Unnecessary Arms against a Maiden: That he did not dispute whether it were Charles his Right to marry her as he pleased or no; though he thought few Presidents could be given thereof: That Britanny's tenure in Fee was not subject to the Justice, Laws and Will of the Lord thereof, as were Other [Page 188] Common tenures: That Gascoigne and Normandy, in Former times, and Flanders, at the Present, were not under so Servile a Subje­ction: but say they were; Marriages ought to be Free, not made by Force, the parties not Constrain'd; otherwise they would be against the Laws, both Humane and Divine: and suppose his disposal of her did not contradict the Laws, it might yet be averse to the interest of Other Princes; who, peradventure, might be content he should marry her to some Other, and not unto Him­self. As for Flanders; he wonder'd so Wise a King as Charles, should use such slight Arguments in so weighty a matter; that he should term the Oppression of the Prince, the People's Oppres­sion; the Rebellion of the One, the Injustice of the Other: that after having so many months detained him prisoner, slain his ser vants, bereft him of his Son, and injuriously put him under their own Government, they should pretend by Injuring to be injured; being protected and confirmed in their Rebellion by Charles him­self: A thing which had not formerly happened, and which now fell out opposite to the Interest and Dignity of All Princes; for in time that might happen to Each of them, which now be­fel This; so as all Princes were bound upon such like occasions reciprocally to Help one another; the which if it became O­thers, much more did it become Charles, who being Soveraign, ought to chastise Rebellion in the people; not to Authorize and Nourish it: He thanked him for his acquainting him with his Se­cret designes; which were So secret, as not onely Italy, but the whole World knew of them: For his ends of Passing into Ma­cedonia to make war upon the Turks, they were not onely Chri­stian, but Generous; so as if in stead of his demanding Peace, he would grant his request in accepting of Him for a Companion in so holy an Enterprise, he should think himself happie: but that his arguments were of too Repugnant a Construction; God did not command Evil to be done that Good might come there­of, nor that what is offer'd on His Altars should be taken from Another's flock: Yet if he thought he might with Justice, set upon the Kingdom of Naples, and that his pretended right there­unto was good, meerly by the Renunciation of the House of Anjou; what might He think of himself, that was bereft of Nor­mandy, Anjou, Gascoigne, and All France (which falling upon his person by natural Inheritance; not by Anothers Renounsal, was his Legal Patrimony) if, being instructed by him, He should not do the like? He would therefore follow his example, and run the same carreer he had traced out to him: Therefore if he would have Peace, he might have it upon condition, either that he would Renounce that which by an unjust title he Possessed, or else pay such a Tribute as might be proportionable to what he should hold. The Ambassadours, not expecting such an Answer, said, They had no Commission to any such purpose; but that they were sure their King's Sword was able to defend his Crown from losing any the least of his Flower-de-Luces: that for what con­cern'd [Page 189] his marriage with the Dutchesse, he never had any such Thought, being already married to Maximilian's daughter. To which the King reply'd, He lookt for such an Answer; and that he would send Ambassadours to him, the better to be satisfied therein: whereupon he dismissed them; and Gaguine stayed in England till he had dispatcht Thomas Earl of Ormond, and Thomas Goldenstone Prior of Christs-Church in Canterbury, Ambassadours into France for that purpose.

Charles this mean while, labour'd to remove from the Dutchesse Ann: all scruples and detestations which withheld her from taking him for her husband. He employed people of all conditions; Divines, Ladies, Lords, Counsellours, and all such as had accesse unto her. The Duke of Orleans, and the Prince of Orange, new­ly freed from their imprisonment, pleaded for him; so did the Count Dunois, who after Orleans was tane prisoner, turn'd again to the King's party. The Marshal de Rieux, Chancellour Mount­alban, the Ladies and Gentlewomen that were familiar with her, and almost the whole Counsel were his instruments herein: Madame de Laval her Governesse and Lady of Honour took more pains herein then All the rest. Much ado there was to perswade the Dutchesse to forget how unworthily she had been dealt withal for Three yeers together; how the Agreements made with the Duke her father, and after with her Self, had ne­ver been observed; that Charles had destroy'd and sackt her Countrey; that he was married to the Daughter of the King of the Romanes, and the King of the Romanes married to Her: So that if the Divines were troubled to remove from her her Scru­ples of Conscience, Madame de Laval was no lesse troubled to rid her of the Hatred she had conceived against his Person. She at the last yeelded thereunto upon the remonstrance of Peace, the Necessity of embracing it, and that there was no other way to compose it then by this Marriage; Maximilian being Far off, and reduced to such Poverty, as in a time of so great need, he could assist her with but Two thousand men: Charles on the con­trary was Neer at hand, Powerful, and not likely to give over, till he had bereft her of her Countrey, and brought her to Po­verty and Misery; the which if it should so fall out, Maximilian would no longer care for her; whose end was to possesse himself of Britanny, and not barely of her Person: that Promises of Mar­riage, yea, Marriage it Self, were to be dispens'd withal in cases of Necessity: that the Pope would not be found difficult herein, since Blood, War, and Desolation would otherwise ensue, which by Peace might be prevented; and Peace was to be had onely by this Marriage: that Maximilian's daughter was no impediment, since she was not of Yeers either to Consent or Dissent: For her Marriage with Maximilian's Self, though Promised, yet was it not Consummated; the Solemnities used therein were meer Cere­monies invented to dazzle the World; they not being valid by whatsoever Law either Canon or Civil: And if nothing else [Page 190] would prevail with her, the Preservation of her State, her's and Charles his Proportionable Youth and Yeers, and her being to be the Chief Queen of the World, ought perswade her. Weary at last with so many Onsets, she gave way, though not yet freed of the Scruple of her Promise-breach to Maximilian; but he being accused of having failed in his Duty, and of not having kept any one whosoever neer her (which he would not have done to the meanest Princesse alive) she was likewise quitted of That.

The Ambassadours which were sent to Charles being come to Callis, met with the Bishop of Concordia, sent from the Pope to reconcile the Two Kings; for through the molestation of their Wars, Christendom was in great danger of the Turks, who made daily further progresse thereinto. The Bishop having dispatcht his affairs with Charles (who feigned a willingnesse to Peace) came to England, where he did nothing; for the Marriage with Bri­tanny being published, the Treaty was broken off, and each King sent for his Ambassadours home. Henry not in honour able to suffer any longer dissimulation, and being by Maximilian pro­mised strong succours from the King of Spain, called a Parlia­ment, and there propounded war with France; not to be made any more by Deputies, as was the war of Britanny, but by Himself in Person, to recover those Provinces lost under Henry the Sixth, against a Prince who for his Pride, and for his pretending over every one, was unworthy of All men's Friendship; since having possest himself of Britanny by Force and Fraud, and maintained the Rebels in Flanders against their Prince, he pretended now to bring Italy to his Subjection; that he might aftewards trouble all the Princes of Christendom: honesting his thirst after Rule, and his conceived Usurpation of the Kingdom of Naples, by saying he did it with an intent to carry his Arms against the Infi­dels on the other side of the Adriatick Sea: he told them it would be dangerous to let him advance so much; for that England be­ing already girt about with Piccardy, Normandy, and this new pur­chase of Britanny, it would be easie for him to molest her; if suf­fering her self to be Flatter'd as hitherto she had done, she should be abused, as she had been: that the French forces were not un­known to the English; as had been witnessed by their Battels, Victories, and the Imprisonment of one of the French Kings: and if the English had at last had unhappie successe, 'twas not be attributed to Their Valour, but to Civil Dissention, which like tempestous Hail, had beaten down the Fruit, upon the very point of Ripening: that his claim to that Kingdom was manifest: that Fortune did second Justice, and Valour accompany her: that Their generous resolution would serve for an Invitation, and an Example unto Others; to Flanders, and Spain, for their Own Interests; and to Britanny, for that being won more by Cor­ruption then by Arms, there wanted not such as were evilly af­fected; the People were discontented, and the greatest part of [Page 191] the Nobility not willing to subject themselves to a Prince whom they abhorr'd: the Pope would joyn with them; for detesting to have Italy molested, Diversion was that which would free him from Danger: All which were thus presented not as the Ground­work, but as the Adherences of an Enterprise which was not to be resolv'd on, upon hopes of Assistance from Others: that England was of it Self sufficient; neither did it stand in need of any other Forces then her Own; it being to be supposed that by the Death of those Ancient warriers, the natural courage of those which Descended from them was not extinct, but that they would make it appear to the world they did not degenerate from their Predecessours: and though Honour have no reward wor­thy of her self but Her Self, yet it was to be consider'd that this was a War to be made in a Countrey full of whatsoever Nature did afford; sufficient to maintain the Publike expence; to adorn the Nobility with Lordships, Vertue with Employments, and to satisfie the Souldier with Booty and Riches: Riches which were to be shared out by sundry ways (as is the Blood from Vein to Vein) to England in general: and that those who for the present should contribute towards it, were to enjoy in the future, aboun­dant Increase for what they should Now part withal: that the war was to be made, not as at the First, at the expence of the Kingdom, but at the cost of such Cities and Provinces as they should Conquer; it had been done so Formerly, and should be so Now: so as they that would contribute towards it, he wisht they might do it Readily; for he was resolved not to have any thing from the Poorer sort, but from such as without any incommodity might expect the Re-imbursing of their Moneys.

The War with France was with much cheerfulnesse approved of in Parliament: They thought the Honour of the King and Kingdom had suffer'd somewhat in the Losse of Britanny. But the King's intentions were not such as he made shew of: he knew Maximilian's Forces were not to be built upon, nor yet those of Ferdinand; for the Wars of Granada had exhausted his Cof­fers; and the recouery of Rossillion without Cost (which he a­spired unto) was not to be effected by fighting with Charles, but with Seconding him. He knew moreover the constitution of France was not Now as it had been Formerly; when divided into Two Factions, it made way for the advancing of the English For­ces: it was now United; the Burgundian Faction was faln to the ground, and the Orleanists depended upon the Regal authority; that she hath now brought her self to a custom of encamping Leasurely, and to fight no more with Violence, but upon Advice; so as he should Weary his people, Weaken his Forces, and Impo­verish his Kingdom. Feigning notwithstanding the contrary, he seemed to Desire, what he Detested: he so wisely fitted himself for what might happen, as satisfying his Honour with the Ap­pearances and Beginning of War, he was sure to make Peace when he listed: for Charles would be Desirous of it, that he [Page 192] might bring to passe his intended Designes; and he Himself would Accept of it, as not being deceived in his opinion of Ma­ximilian's Impotency, and the vain hopes from Spain. Yet he was sure to make Charles buy peace Dear, who had his minde so fixt upon the Conquest of Italy, as he did not care to part with a Certainty for an Uncertainty: so as getting Moneys from Him, and Benevolences from his Own Kingdom, he was likely to be a good Gainer by the bargain. Besides, his affairs were not so secure at Home, as to let him think on Forreign businesse; for he had discover'd how the Dutchesse of Burgundy was hatching another Plot to trouble him: so as though Profit (where­unto he was Naturally enclined) had not been concern'd, yet was he to have an eye to the Dangers wherewith he was threa­tened.

Great store of Moneys coming in by the means of Benevolen­ces (for he took a great care none should be exempted that were 1491 able to lend) he in a small time raised a mighty Army: and knowing that Charles had renewed his ancient Confederacy with Iames the Fourth, King of Scotland, with a reciprocal obligation to be assistant one to another, he proclamed War against them Both; but not without fear that Maximilian would fail him at his greatest need: for though his Weaknesse and Wants were capable of remedy, if he should be succour'd against his Subjects which molested him, yet his Nature was incapable thereof. It was impossible for him to maintain Ten thousand fighting men, for Two yeers together, upon his Own Purse, according to his promise: though being Madded (as then he was) at the Double affront; of his Daughter's Repudiation, and the Usurp­ation of his Own Wife, he hoped to do Somewhat out of No­thing. That which did yet more weaken this Prince, was the Rebellion of Philip de Cleves Lord of Ravestein, who being upheld by Charles, had raised such Combustions in Flanders, as having possest himself of Gaunt and Bruges, the chief Cities of that Coun­trey, he had forced such as favour'd Maximilian to quit those Towns: and reaching further, he had made himself master of Sluce, and of the Two Castles which were it's Security, seizing upon all Ships that went upon the Sea, hindering the Commerce of Antwerp, Brabant, Zealand and Freezland, and taking such as came from England and the Northern Countreys; to the general prejudice of All Nations. Albertus, Duke of Saxony, Lantsgrave of Misnia, governed Flanders at that time, under Maximilian; it being left unto him by the Emperour his father, when he went from thence. This man foreseeing he could not force Ravestein unlesse he should get Sluce, nor that he could win Sluce, without having the Dam, by which succour came to it from Bruges, he feigned to make for Bruges, for matters concerning that Province; and not being to take such a journey, unlesse well followed, and in good Equipage (he being the man he was) he sent some Troops before, which entring peaceably in, went to the gate [Page 193] which looks towards Dam, as if they would quarter in the Neighbouring Villages, and not incommodate the Citie. Dam was not above a Flanders-mile from thence; the inhabi­tants whereof thinking these Troops had been sent from Bru­ges, let them in: and they making themselves Masters there­of, Bruges was in a manner besieged, and Sluce deprived of Succour. The Duke, for all this advantage, had no hopes to get Sluce without Forces by Sea: he sent news hereof to England; whereupon the King, who had had many com­plaints made him by the Merchants of the Insolencies of Ravestein, and desired to uphold Maximilian, sent unto him Twelve Ships well furnished with Men and Ammunition un­der the Command of Sir Edward Poynings; who having shut up the Haven of Sluce, besieged the Town by Sea, whilst the Duke did the like by Land; and play'd with his Cannon upon the Two Castles wherein the Losse or Preservation of the Town consisted. They were valiantly defended for the space of Twenty days: the Earl of Oxford's brother was slain in a Sal­ly which they made: and longer would they have held out, had not the Besiegers (in the dark of night) burnt the Bridge which Ravestein had built between the Two Castles, which not being able to succour one another, he was enforced to surren­der them, and together with them, Sluce. Bruges being reduced to it's obedience, was the occasion of many Other Towns doing the like.

Henry, this mean while, past the Summer in Ordering his 1492 men that were to go for France; and finding himself in a condition to passe over; he sent Sir Iohn Risloy and U-sewick to Maximilian, to agree upon the place where they were to meet: but they found him so Unprovided, as having no hope, they were ready to return; yet they did not so, judging it fitter to advertise the King, and expect his Commands. The King, who feared the same, praised their discretion, and commanded them not to return till they had received new Directions, and that they should conceal that Prince's weaknesse, for fear of Disheartening his men. His Army was compos'd of Twenty thousand Foot, and Sixteen hundred Horse: the best men flocked thither; some to purchase merit, and some as thinking it not fitting to stay Behinde when the King went in Person. He landed at Callis on the Sixth of October, the wiser sort marvelling that he would undertake so difficult a Warre in so unfitting a time; for the Fore-runners of Winter began already to be felt: but these difficulties served him to make men believe he desired that which indeed he did not: to wit, That being to begin a tedi­ous Warre, the Season was of no importance, since he had Callis, from whence he might draw out his Army in the Spring without any manner of difficulty; and to trans­port [Page 194] it then from England, would be a long businesse, and, in respect of the Windes, uncertain. Assoon as he was Landed, he sent for his Ambassadours back, and Maximilian's weaknesse was publikely made known, and that no Other help was to be expected from him then his Good-will; wherein he did as much abound, as he was defective in any other manner of assistance. At the hearing hereof, the Souldiers courage was somewhat Cooled, though not altogether taken Away; it served to dispose them beforehand, for Henry's designes: to work the same effect, there came Letters from Seignieur de Cordes, wherein was made an overture for Peace on Charles his behalf; which containing in it Reasonable conditions, it had been Unreasonable not to listen to it: From other parts it was confirm'd that Ferdi­nand and Isabel were Agreed with him, having received from him the County of Rossillion, without repaying the Three hundred thousand Crowns for which it was pawn'd to him: this made all men see a Necessity of Peace. Henry notwithstanding, playing his game handsomly, deputed the Bishop of Exceter, and the Lord d'Aubeny to give Cordes a hearing; whilst he, without delay, on the 19 of October, planted his Camp before Boloigne; a Town well fortified, wherein was a great Garison, and good store of Ar­tillery; so as it was not to be taken but in a Long processe of time, with the losse of many men, and much blood. He had hardly sate down a Month before it, when a Breach being thought fitting to be made, and the Souldiers ready to give the Assault, News came that Peace was concluded, to the great Dislike of the Army, and the Madding of such who having sold their possessions upon the hopes of this Warre, found themselves deceived. One cause which made Henry willing to accept of Peace (to boot with what have been already alleadged) was for fear lest Charles might foment a New Duke of York; who began then to shew himself. The substance of the Agreement was; That Charles should pay Seven hundred fourty five thou­sand Crowns for divers considerations; for satisfaction of the Fifty thousand Crowns Yeerly, which ought to have been pay'd, but were not after the Death of Edward the Fourth; as also, for the Succours he had sent into Bri­tanny, which the Dutchesse Anne acknowledged her self to stand indebted for; and for the Expences he had been at in this Present war. The French Historians agree upon the same sum, but they do not specifie the Causes why. Polydore affirm­ing that the Peace was concluded by the payment of a great sum of money, adds Five and twenty thousand Crowns a yeer for Succouring of Britanny; which after Charles his death and Henry's, were pay'd to Henry the Eighth by Lewis the Twelfth and Francis the First, who durst not deny the payment of it, for fear of being set upon by him, whilst they made war in Italy. Charles did moreover, in imitation of his father, give Pensions and Presents [Page 195] to the chief of Henry's Court, that they might either favour him the more, or hinder him the lesse: whereat Henry connived; for it behoved him to interesse the Greatest of the Kingdom in the Peace, which was but badly construed by the Rest. He endea­vour'd likewise to satisfie those who for their own particular re­spects were discontented; by shewing them what Blood, and Losse of Lives, would have ensued in the assaulting of Bullein, together with the Small hopes they had to come off with Ho­nour: and that if he had been Successeful therein, yet had he deserved Blame; since what was to be gotten did not answer to the Losse of the Valiantest of his Army. He made use of the same arguments to make others perswade Him to make Peace, that it might be thought to have ensued from the Motion of O­thers, not from Himself.

This Peace was good for Both the Kings: for Charles, by secu­ring to him Britanny (which by occasion of this War was like to have Stagger'd) and opening a way unto him to agree with Maxi­milian, as he did: so as his Confines being secured on that side (they being formerly secured on all Other) he might with a quiet minde totally intend the getting of Naples: a resolution which proceeded not from Lodowick Sforza, who first incited him there­unto, but from his natural Genius, which compell'd him to un­dertake it, (notwithstanding the many Difficulties he was to meet withal, especially the Want of Moneys) without any real foundation. Fortune, when she pleases, is able to make impos­sibilities possible. 'Twas good for Henry; for he thereby filled his Coffers, and was freed from the danger which the new Fan­tasm, representing the Duke of York, might have brought unto him, had it been so strongly backt by the King of France, as it was witnessed by the Dutchesse of Burgundy, and seconded by the King of Scotland. He feared some Insurrection from those which favour'd the White Rose: for the love which the people had born him in regard of their Hatred to Richard, was grown lesse, so as he was now to subsist onely by his Own worth: and his Wives faction failed him, he having failed Her in those respects which his desire of being King in his Own Right, would not per­mit him to use unto her. His Camp being raised from before Bullein, he returned by Callis for England: having written to the Lord Maior and Aldermen of London, before he took Shipping, his reasons for Ending the War; not touching upon those we have spoken of, but such as he thought would Please; especially that the enemy had purchas'd Peace at so High a rate: this notwith­standing pleased not those who had been liberal to him in their Benevolences; 'tis true, their distaste was lessened by his return­ing with his Purse full; which made them believe he would not of a long time expect any thing from Them.

Alphonso Duke of Calabria, eldest son to Ferdinand King of Na­ples, had intreated Henry to admit him into the Order of the Gar­ter, 1493 believing the War between the Two Kings to be Endlesse. [Page 196] He thought that to have the Honour to be of the most famous Or­der of Christendom, would make him be respected amongst Princes, and reverenced by his Subjects; especially at such a time: he hoped that if France should stir against his Father, the King of England with opportune assistance would discharge the duty of the Fraternity: but he was deceived; it doth not dilate it self to so prejudicial an Obligation. Honours are the Alchimy of Princes, which like Gamesters Tantoes, are worth as much, as they are made to be worth; they are not burdensom to the giver, en­rich not the receiver: Mines are not digg'd up for them, treasure is not exhausted; neither have they any other Being then what Opinion gives them: he that hath not merit enough in himself to deserve them, is like a Sumpter-horse marked with the mark of a stately Courser. The King being come to London, sent him the Garter, and Robes belonging to the Order, by Ursewick. The Order was received by Alphonso, with the greatest Pomp that could be invented by any one who believes that Ostentations dazzle mens eyes, and bring things to their designed Ends: which happening but Sometimes, did not befal Him: for neither did This, nor any Other industry preserve him from ruine. But for that his successe belongs not to Our Story, we refer the Reader to Guicchiardine's Relation.

The King at his arrival in England heard that the Duke of York was not slain in the Tower, as he was believed to be; but that he was with his Aunt Margaret in Flanders: the which though Hen­ry understood when he was in France, and, in his agreements, had made Charles, with whom he then was, send him away; yet he did not think the noise of this fiction was to be despised, since it might breed great troubles. We will relate the Beginning there­of, and the resolution which he thereupon took. The Dutchesse Margaret had, together with her Milk suckt in hatred against the Red-Rose-faction, enemy to the White, from whence She de­scended, insomuch as she spared not either for Injustice or Fraud, so she might oppresse it; neither did Religion, or any other Scru­ple, withhold her from doing what in her lay to destroy it. She might have been contented that her Neece Elizabeth was Queen of England in default of her Two Nephews who should have inherited the Crown; since they failed therein, not through the cruelty of the Lancastrians, but of her brother Richard: yet was she not satisfied; but favoured Lambert Symnel, one unknown and Meanly born, by whose means she endeavoured to bereave her Neece of the Kingdom, so to deprive Henry and her Nephews begotten by him, (by her rather reputed Enemies then Ne­phews) her innate Hatred was of more power with her, then her Love to her Neece, and those that came of her: but failing in that designe plotted by a Priest, she would contrive one Her Self; and make thereof so hard and intricate a knot as that nei­ther Henry's Wisedom, nor Sword, should be able to untie it or cut it in sunder. There are some that term her his Iuno: for [Page 197] as the ancient Fictions, one never ceased to persecute Eneas, till fatal destiny made her aware that she vexed him but in vain; so this New and True one never ceased to persecute Henry, not per­ceiving that she contended with divine providence, which intend­ing him for the Peace and Quiet of the Kingdom, did in despite of her, defend him from her malice. This new Duke of York was a poor lad, by whom she thought to effect that mischief, which she could not bring to passe. His father (who dwelt in Torney) was a Jew turn'd Christian, named Iohn Osbeck, who ne­cessitated by some occasions, went together with his Wife, to Lon­don, where she bare him this son; who being Christened by King Edward in his Own person, 'twas thought he would not have done so great a favour to so mean a childe, had he not had some Secret interest in him; and (his mother being very fair) some were of opi­nion he had begotten him. He was named Peter, which according to the Custom and Diminutive of the Dutch Tongue, was con­verted to Perkin. Those who knew him not from his beginning, called him Warbeck, his true name of Osbeck not being known, till after enquiry had been made into it: so as the name of Warbeck, which was first given him out of Ignorance, by Custom continued to him. He was but very young when his father returned to Flanders; when he was somewhat Bigger, his father sent him to Antwerp, and from thence to Other parts: His travels and con­versation with Divers Nations, had not onely made him skilful in many Languages (English being his Natural tongue) but apt to fit himself to other mens Humours and Customs. This lad being met withal by some of Margaret's Officers, and by them judged very fit for what was to be done, they presented him to her: it cannot be said how much she was therewithal satisfied; for all conditions requisite for her purpose, were met together in him; Yeers, beauty, wit, comlinesse of feature; I should say Majesty, but that was a quality of her Addition: She took an affection to him for his being God-son to her Brother; and the rather for that (being very fair) she thought him a by-scape of his: an opinion which made her form and transform him with the greater care and diligence. She bethought her self of all that she was either to instil into his minde, or affix in his actions: she omitted not any thing whereby to make him personate to the life the deceased Duke of York; she decipher'd out unto him, as in so many well-drawn Pictures, the Delineaments, Semblances, and Behaviours of those of the Blood-royal: of the King, Queen, Prince, and Princesses; of the first he was to speak, as of his Father and Mother; of the rest, as of his Brother and Sisters: she bethought her self what Questions might be asked him; fitting him with Answers thereunto, such as might become his Youth: she did the like for what concern'd such past busi­nesses as might have fallen within his knowledge: she forgat not the particulars of the Sanctuary; how the Queen fled thither with the Duke of York; how he was taken from thence; how [Page 198] much Richard made of him when he had gotten him; his resort­ing to his brother in the Tower; the Manner of their living there; what Servants waited on them; their Fears; and the manner of his pretended Eseape; the names of the Lords, with each parti­cularity, which to such a purpose had happened: she chiefly taught him how to counterfeit innate Nobility; in which he was so tractable, as he thought himself the very Duke of York whom he personated. She fitted the places of his peregrination with the times, to the end that when he should discourse of what had there happened to him, they might be believed. And finding him generally of a miraculous capacity, and in judgement much beyond his yeers, she took delight to instruct him, and was plea­sed in her Own work, happily invented, as she thought. She kept him continually in her most private lodgings, not trusting him to the air; for the chiefest article of this mystery was, to make the world believe she had never seen him. When she had brought her work to Perfection, she laid before him as his object the purchasing of the Crown of England; wherein if he should not prosper, then the chief place in her Court; for that he was to be reputed, not what in truth he was, but what for her honour he was to be believed to be: she being obliged to uphold him, to the end her favours might not be accounted the effects of Ma­lice, but of Blood. When she afterwards perceiv'd that Henry proceeded on in the affairs of Britanny (so as he must of necessi­ty break with France) she would not keep him any longer with her. She sent him into Portugal, under the conduct of an English Lady, where he tarried for almost the space of a Yeer: and this she did, to the end that when he was to appear, it might be from a Third place: he had then directions sent him to passe into Ire­land; for Henry having now declared War against France, 'twas a fit time to molest him: and the White-Rose saction being great in Ireland, he might get Assistants, and give a beginning to his Metamorphosis.

He obey'd; he pass'd into Ireland: he made his abode in Cork; where at first sight, he was esteemed a man of great consequence: for his comely demeanure, and his plenty in all things (the Dutchesse having furnisht him in great abundance for his better appearing) were sufficient to make the people take one thing for another. Having a while held them in suspence, he acknow­ledged himself (but as if he were enforced thereunto) to be the Duke of York, who having escaped out of the Tower, and run divers fortunes, was come to that Kingdom, hoping that the affection it had always born to his House, would now continue firm to him. Henry was not at this time pass'd into France, being retarded by the difficulties of so important an Expedition; so as Charles hearing of this apparition in Ireland, he thought it might make for his advantage to have him with him; that so he might trouble England if Henry should continue in Hostility; and if he should not continue therein, he might make his Peace upon [Page 199] better terms. One Steven Frion was Secretary to Henry for the French tongue, who being discontented, and holding Correspon­dence with the Dutchesse Margaret, fled into France, assoon as the War was proclamed: this man gave Charles the first advertise­ment of Perkin: Charles sent Him together with another, as Am­bassadours, to Perkin, inviting him to come into France, and offer­ing to assist him in the regaining of England. An Invitation which augmented the hair-brain'd vanity of this Impostor: for being chosen by the Dutchesse of Burgundy, a wise Princesse, to a businesse of this weight, received by the Irish (undoubted enemies to the House of Lancaster) and sent for by a King whose interests were concern'd in His, he believed, That Fortune never undertook any great businesse without finishing it; not minding that Beginnings and Endings conform but Seldom; and that Princes preserving themselves by their Own strengths, 'tis usual with Fortune to ruine such with the more certain praecipice, whom she hath by unusual steps raised to the Highest point of her Wheel. When he had acquainted those whom he most trust­ed in Ireland with this Invitation, and thereby won more credit with them, he went to France, where he was by the King received with all honour due to the Duke of York: he called him by that Title; and according to that degree, fitted him with House, Ser­vants, and Expences; and with a Guard of Souldiers under the Command of the Lord Congreshal, to make him the more respect­ed: Sir George Nevil and Sir Iohn Taylor, with above a Hundred other English-men, waited continually upon him; and the Court it self, which follows the Prince's example, shew'd him the like respect, not but that the greatest part of the Courtiers, and especially the King, knew who he was; but because it was ex­pedient for them not to know him. The Imposture was appa­rent, not by his ill governing himself, or through any default of his Person (for he abounded in Decency and Majestie) but by the true story of the true Duke of York; by the Unlikelyhood and Impossibility that he should escape the hands of a Crafty, Malicious, Dreaded Uncle: Yet did he not Long enjoy this glory; for the differences being ended between the Two Kings, it behoved him to be gone. Henry would have had him delivered into His hands; but Charles esteeming it an unworthy action, would not do it. He commanded him to depart his Kingdom; which he forthwith did: for he very much apprehended the be­ing made the Offering in the Sacrifice of this Peace. He with­drew himself into Flanders, where the Dutchesse and he counter­feited their parts Strangely well: he seemed as if he had never been in those parts before; and she, as if she had never before seen him: He feigned to be fled thither as to a Sanctuary under the protection of an Aunt, who for the Neernesse of Blood that was between them, ought to professe her self his Mother; She coun­terfeited Fears of being Deceived, being made cautelous by the example of Lambert Symnel; and this might be a counterfeit as [Page 200] well as He: She sent oftentimes for him, feigning to make an Exact scrutiny: at first, she seemed to be Doubtful; afterwards not Clearly satisfied; then more Inclining to Believe well: at Last, she broke forth into an Admiration, and Thanksgiving, praising the Divine Providence which had had commiseration on that innocent Blood, and had vouchsafed to preserve him so mi­raculously, shewing the wonderfulnesse of his blessings to him: She then, with much seeming Passion, called him Nephew; the Bud of the White-rose; the Hope of the House of York; and the Restorer of the Honour and Justice of England: She as­signed unto him a Guard of Thirty Halberdiers for his safety. Now every one began to think him Really to be what he perso­nated, not imagining that a Woman could be capable of so much Cunning: insomuch as if he were respected in France as a for­reign Prince, he was little lesse then Worshipped in Flanders, as Nephew to the Dutchesse, and almost as much as if he had been her Son. This news being brought into England, it was there greedily listened after; for men do naturally love to believe things unlooked for and incredible: Passions augmented this be­lief in such as were of that Faction, in those who desired Novel­ties, in the Discontented: as also in those who loved Equity: for the Crown had neither belonged to Henry, nor yet to his Wife, if her Brother had been alive. Hereupon arose Whisperings, li­berty of Discourse and Complaints: the present ill Government was in every man's mouth; the endlesse Impositions, the King's insatiable Avarice, which was the cause of a Shameful Peace, af­ter Britanny had More shamefully been suffered to be lost: The Nobility were no lesse distasted; they were grieved at the small account the King made of them; so that All mens conceipts fell upon the same point, That God being a just Judge, had preserved the True Heir to seat him again in his Throne, which had been Twice usurped from him: for Henry had no right thereunto of Himself, and had Waved his Wives right that he might reign Alone; that therefore it was not to be wondred at, if after so much injustice, God had raised up his Brother-in-law to punish him. Nor did this businesse end onely in Discourse: for there were some personages of Great quality, who would sound the Bottom of it; amongst which were the Lord Chamberlain, Willi­am Stanley, brother to Henry's father-in-law (he who had assisted him in the battel against Richards, and may be said to have made him King) the Lord Fitz-water, Sir Simon Montefort, and Sir Tho­mas Thwaites: these made choice of some people of quality to send into Flanders, that upon their relation, they might ground their resolutions: but of many there were onely Two that would hazard themselves to undertake the businesse which was shunn'd by all the rest; for if the businesse should prove fictitious, they were likely to lose their Goods and Countrey. Robert Clifford and William Barley, were the Two; both of them of good Families, especially the first. When they came to Flanders, the Dutchesse [Page 201] Margaret received them with much honour, and having dis­coursed long with Clifford, that she might the better inform her self of their intentions that sent them, she brought him to the sight of Perkin: with whom after he had discoursed many days, he wrote back into England, that he was the Duke of York; and that he knew him as well as he knew Him­self.

The King was troubled at these mens going, since it could not 1494 but produce dangerous consequences: but the greatnesse of his spirit being averse to fear, he forbare to make any extraordinaty provision against it, so not to augment the credit thereof, which his seeming neglect might lessen. Yet he forbare not to shut up the Ports, and to place such guards there, as he might know who came in and out; endeavouring to discover what correspondency the fugitives had. He feared not the Imposture, being certainly informed how the Duke of York was, together with his brother, put to death; but it behoved him that Others should likewise be certain thereof: wherefore he put, as prisoners, into the Tower, Sir Iames Tirrel, and his servant Iohn Dighton, who were the one­ly Two that remained alive of the Four which were conscious of this cruelty; for Miles Forrest (the Second rogue that slew them) and the Priest that buried them, were dead: they depo­sed, That Tirrel saw them Dead after they were Smother'd; that he made them be buried underneath a stair, and cover'd them with a Stone; from whence, by order from Richard, they were afterwards tane, and reburied by the Minister of the Tower; but in what place they knew not, the Minister being Dead. But the King, not satisfied with these testimonies, that he might divert the danger, and satisfie the World, he bethought himself of some other means whereby he might discover the Impostors con­dition and descent. He made choice of some, and scatter'd them thorowout all Flanders, directing them what they were to do: Those who were not to stay in any setled place, were ordered di­ligently to enquire after his Birth, and to give Him daily adver­tisement of what they should learn: which makes men believe he had some glimpse of it before: the other, who were to make their abode where He was, were (by his direction) to seem as if they were fled away, so to shun the danger they should incur, if they were discover'd to be well-wishers to his party; and to pro­fesse they were come to run the like fortune with Him: they were, as the Other, to make Discovery, but more particularly to finde out the Designes and Correspondencies; they were to grow familiar with those whom Perkin most confided in, and to shew them the Vanity of the Undertaking, they having to do with a wise King; not easily to be beaten without extraordina­ry Forces; that the Dutchesse's favours were not answerable to their need; that they wanted assistance, and were not cer­tain of what they presumed to be Secure; which was the assistance of the party, and the peoples inclination, both which were un­useful: [Page 202] for that such accurate and diligent provision was made, that all men would forbear to declare themselves, unlesse they might be encouraged by the sight of a Great army, which the Duke of York was not likely to shew them; no not if all Flan­ders were to declare it Self for him. But their chief care was to sound Clifford by tasting him with fair promises; for if they could win Him over, the deed was done, he being the Ca­binet of secret Correspondencies between Flanders and Eng­land: neither were they much troubled to effect it; for, be­ing come to the knowledge of this imposture, he was wrought upon by them; with promise of Forgivenesse, and of Re­wards, proper baits for such a fish. Henry, this mean while, had made all those whom he had sent, to be excommunicated in Pauls, and their Names to be registred in the Book of the King's enemies (according to the custom of those times) to the end that no man might suspect them: neither did he for­bear to sollicite the Confessors of the greatest men, that he might learn how they were enclined; not weighing the Profa­nation of Religion and holy things, since his particular interest was concern'd, though in all Other things he was reputed a Pious Prince. At last they came to the perfect knowledge of Perkin's Birth, Name, Surname, Countrey, Employments, and Voyages, till coming to the Dutchesse, he was metamorphis'd into the Duke of York: they likewise won over Clifford, who gave them such proofs of his repentance, as the King was there­withal satisfied. Perkin's Genealogie was published in the Court, and thorowout the Kingdom: and Henry not esteeming it fit­ting that a Mechanick should with such ostentation be protect­ed in Flanders, under a false name, and which redounded to His injury, he sent Ambassadours to the Archduke Philip (Ma­ximilian being gone into Germany) who were Sir Edward Poynings, and Sir William Warham Doctor of the Civil Law. The Coun­cil gave them audience, the Archduke being yet a Childe: their Embassie was, That Flanders being confederate, and in friendship with England, the King could not but resent that she should nourish an Impostour who durst call himself Duke of York, and pretended unto his Kingdom: that such a Belief must needs admit of some Malignity, since the Duke of York's death was too manifest to the world; which were it not so, very Conjecture were sufficient to put it out of doubt: the Nature and Craft of Richard the Third was not such as would encourage the Executors of his cruelty to save One brother, and murder the Other: Mercy was not to be suppos'd in such Rascals; and if it were, not without Reward, and free­dom from Punishment: Reward was not to be expected from a Childe destitute of Hopes, and who getting out of pri­son, had not wherewithal to feed himself: but say that meer Compassion had moved them to save him; such com­passion must be either in One or in All of them: it was impossible [Page 203] it should be in One of them, and the Rest not know of it; and it was incredible it should be in All of them, for that three such wicked ones could not so far trust one another, as not to live in perpetual Jealousie: And give this likewise granted, how could a childe, ignorant of the ways, wanting direction and counsel, passe undiscover'd, that the Night-guards which are usual in all the streets of London, should not stop him, should not take him? or that some other difficulty should not hinder him? 'twas im­possible a tender childe of Nine yeers old, alone, in Lord-like looks, and apparel, could passe on, unknown by any: Certainly this could not have befallen the True Duke of York, much lesse could it have happened unto the Counterfeit, whose true name was Perkin: that the King knew him well; knew his Countrey and his Extraction, that the Nurse or rather Mother of this, the Dutchesse of Burgundy, knew it well enough, who emulating the ancient Fables, had brought him forth (as Iove did Mercury) out of her Brain, feigned him to be her Nephew, given him instructi­ons and taught him how to lye: that she could not tolerate that her Neece should reign, being joyned to the House of Lancaster; her hatred being thereunto such, as rather then to suffer her to be a Queen with such a Husband, she would bereave Her and her Children of a Kingdom, and give it to Perkin, begotten by a Jew turned Christian: They desired, that after the example of the King of France, they would chase him out of their Countrey; and that if the useful friendship which was between the two Na­tions, should perswade them (as well it might) to do More, they should do like true friends indeed, if they would deliver him up into Their Hands. The Answer was, That they desired to pre­serve friendship with the King; that they would not assist the pre­tended Duke of York: but that they could not hinder the Dutch­esse (who was absolute in her Countrey) from doing what she listed. Henry was not pleased with this answer; knowing that Princesses Dowagers have not the like Prerogative over the Countreys where they govern as had their Husbands: for if they were endowed with Absolute Soveraignty and Dominion, they might wage War, put the State into Combustion, and utterly lose it: but having learn'd that she had great power in the Council, and that the Archduke could do no otherwise; whilst the world would believe that Perkin was protected in Despite of Him; he recalled the English Merchants from Flanders, and banisht the Flanders Merchants out of England, and transported the Staple of Cloth and Wooll from Antwerp to Callis: the which though it were to the great losse of the People, and that Philip knew they would exclaim against it; yet did not he forbear doing the like, by driving the English out of his Dominions. The King moreover upon advertisements from Clifford, imprisoned the Lord Fitz-water, Sir Simon Montfort, and Sir Thomas Thwaites, Willi­am d'Aubeny, Robert Ratcliff, Thomas Cressenor, Thomas Astwood, Willi­am Worseley Dean of Pauls, and certain Friers, amongst which [Page 204] two Dominicans: he would have shut up More, but the scandal would have been too great. Montfort, Ratcliff, and d'Aubeny, were convinc'd of High Treason, and beheaded; the Lord Fitz-water being sent prisoner to Callis, not in despair of Life, by his endea­vouring to escape, lost both his hopes and life: the rest were pardoned.

The King had created his second son, Henry, Duke of York, in Westminster, where, as is usual at such Solemnities, divers Knights 1495 of the Bath were made: but when he heard that Clifford was land­ed in England, he withdrew himself to the Tower, that he might hear him There; to the end that if he should accuse any of ex­traordinary quality, they might be imprisoned without any great noise. Clifford being admitted to his presence, threw himself at his feet, and begg'd his pardon; the which being formerly grant­ed, he again confirmed unto him: and being commanded to speak, if he had any more to say concerning the Conspiracy, he named the Lord Chamberlain Sir William Stanley: at whose name all the standers by were startled; it not being likely that a man of his quality, rich, the Favorite, neerest to the King, and the chief in­strument of his Assumption to the Crown, should be a Traitour: whereupon being advised to think Better what he said; he with­out Haesitation or Altering his Colour, accused him as Before. Stanley was shut up in his Chamber, and was the next day exami­ned by the Council: he denied some few Circumstances, but confess'd the Fault; affying his Former actions, for which he pre­sumed the King would pardon him: but he was deceived. De­serts and Mis-deserts weigh not alike, when they are of a like Excesse: though he had Put the Crown upon his head; by ne­gotiating how to take it Away again, he nullified his Former de­serts: his Repenting for the Service done, cancell'd the Obliga­tion; the which though it were very great, was in some sort re­warded: Recompence cannot be given for a Kingdom, by con­ferring Another Kingdom to the Donour; or by resigning over to him the Same: the Inequality of the Persons, equals the Dis­parity of the good turn: the Riches, and Honour he received from Henry, were equivalent to the Crown which Henry received from Him: (if it may be Formally said that he did receive it from him) the one was Born for It, the other for Meaner things. Yet was Henry in great doubt with himself, whether he should put him to death, or no: the love and reverence which he bare to his Fa­ther-in-law, pleaded for Clemency; Example, and the Conditi­on of the Times, put in for Severity; but if it be true which some Authors write, his Riches bore down the balance: he be­ing esteemed one of the greatest money'd men in England. Nei­ther were men deceived in this their opinion; for in his Castle of Holt were found Fourty thousand Marks in ready money (his Jewels and Moveables not therein comprehended) and in Re­venues and Pensions he had Three thousand pounds a yeer; a considerable sum in those days. Whereupon after having deferr'd [Page 205] this businesse some Six weeks, to the end that his Brother and the People might have time to Examine it, he was condemn'd to die, and lost his head. His execution afforded matter of diver­sity of discourse: those that were not of the Court, who were ignorant of the Secrets of Government, and made their conje­ctures upon Circumstances, and doubtful Relations, esteemed the case, if not wholly void of Fault, at least not worthy of the High­est punishment: a belief which was occasioned by reason of a Rumour that was spread abroad, That in his discourse with Clif­ford concerning Perkin, he should say unto him, That if he should for certain know he were the Duke of York, son to Edward the Fourth, he would not take up Arms against him: A manner of Speech which though it did not Openly declare any ill-will to the King's Person, yet such was it as did not sound well in His mouth; his Example being sufficient to alter the whole Kingdom; and the words not admitting of any other interpretation, then his Opi­nion of Henry's unjust title to the Crown; which derogated from the Pretences of the House of Lancaster, and from the Authority of Parliament. The reason which alienated him from the King, is said to be, That he desiring the King to make him Earl of Chester (a Title, and County which the Kings of England do for the most part give to the Princes of Wales, their first-born Sons) the King did not onely Deny his request, but was Offended with him for it; thinking him now arrived to those pretences which did exceed the condition of a Subject, after he had rewarded his services with equivalent rewards: having made him Privy Counsellour, Lord Chamberlain, given him daily whatsoever he demanded, assigned Pensions to him, and in the day of Battel wherein Richard was slain, seemed not to take notice that he ap­propriated unto Himself the Prey and Booty of the whole Camp, of which He himself stood in Need, being but a New King: per­mitting all things to him, to the end that when he was grown Rich, he might satisfie his own thirst of having. This man's death put all the Court in a Quandary, one man durst not trust another; each one feared lest all his friends might prove Cliffords: Yet such was the spirit of Back-biting, that they made use of pen and paper, to utter what for fear of danger they durst not do with their tongues; Libels were written against some of the Council, and against the King himself, the authors whereof could not so well conceal themselves, but that Five of them miscarried, paying for their Errour with the losse of life. Perkin's party this mean while decreased; no man durst so much as think any more of him, and they were but very few that tarried with him in Flan­ders: amongst which, Barley, Clifford's companion, was the chiefest, who notwithstanding, afterwards, alter'd his opinion, and together with his Pardon, got leave to return home.

But the death of the Conspirators, and the dissipation of the Complices, were not sufficient to make Henry rest in quiet, un­lesse he should destroy the Nest which was in Ireland; seeing that [Page 206] Lambert first, and then Perkin, had been so affectionately received there. It behoved him to settle his authority there in such man­ner as it should be undoubted: he made choice of Two to serve him in Two several Offices; the Prior of Langton with title of Commissioner, that he might look to the Civil Government of the Kingdom, making him Chancellor; and Edward Poynings, who was to have charge of the Militia, giving him a great many Soul­diers, with Commission to be Marshal, and Lieutenant, to which the Deputy, which was the Earl of Kildare, was subordinate. The Prior met with no difficulty; the Laws being his Arms, and the peaceful people the matter of his jurisdiction: but Poynings, who was to deal with Stubborn men and Rebels, had not the like fortune: for Ireland being full of Woods, Boggs, and Desert places (the happinesse of the poor people consisting in Idlenesse, in somuch as the ground is there for the most part unbroken up) he was to make War, just as men do Hunt; for those whose con­sciences and courages mis-gave them, retiring themselves into places inaccessible for strangers, and unknown unto them, he spent much time there to small purpose; killing some few, and taking some few prisoners, which made not much for the main en­terprise; so as being angry with those, who having no intention to withstand him, had no cause to fear him, he lay'd the fault upon the Earl of Kildare, as if he had succour'd them underhand. He sent him prisoner into England, without any other Proof against him, save his Own Suspition: and the Earl did so fully justifie himself, as that he was declared Innocent, and re-established in his former Government. But if Poynings had no successe with those which stood out against him, yet was his fortune such with the rest, as he perswaded them to accept of all Ordinances made in England till that day, which in former times were not of power in that Kingdom. This Declaration was and is called Poynings his Law. Ireland therefore is governed by the same Laws as is England; for so many as were made till the Tenth yeer of Henry: but such as have been made since are not admitted of, there.

The Conspiracy thus unsuccessefully ended, did not so quell Perkin's spirit, but that he thought the affections of those of his Party, were rather Oppressed, then quite Dead; and that a new spirit would so revive them, as Henry should not be so fortunate in suppressing them, as he had been. Thus flattering himself, he assembled together certain Troops of men of desperate fortunes, who either for Debts, or other misdemeanours, durst not shew their heads; and embarking them, he came to Anchor before Sandwitch, landing some of his men to learn news, and to disco­ver how the people in those parts were affected, giving out that he had great Forces which were coming in a Fleet after him. The King at this time was gone his Progresse, and was now with his Mother in her house at Latham, whom he went to visit; and that by his coming thither, the world might know, that the death [Page 207] of Sir William Stanley had not made his father-in-law think the worse of him: here he heard of Perkin's arrival; whereby he received this advantage, that he having so behaved himself as his People esteemed him to be a politick Prince, they thought nothing befel him which he did not foresee: and that his reti­ring himself into the Northern parts, was one of his cunning fetches; for knowing he had left the South-parts free from dan­ger, he intended to allure Perkin to land, that so he might be sure not to escape. But whatever the matter was, at the first news he resolved to return; and was not well pleased at the Second, which informed him that he was gone again; for he perceived this trouble would continue longer then he imagined. The cause of Perkin's departure was this; the Kentish-men had well obser­ved the condition of those whom he had landed; and that there were but few English amongst them, and those few of no worth nor consideration; wherefore they took counsel with the Chief of the Shire, concerning their taking Arms; the which being agreed upon, they shewed a part of their men upon the Sea shore, to invite him to land; and scatter'd the rest abroad, some here, some there, as if they were ready to run away: but Perkin per­ceiving their drift, budged not a foot; wherefore the Kentish­men gave upon them that were on the shore: slew some of them, took other some, very few of them getting back to their Ships.

At this time died Cecilie Nevil, Dutchesse of York; who, born to be unfortunate, outdid the miseries of her daughter-in-law Queen Elizabeth, who was very unhappie: she bare to her hus­band Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, Eight sons, and Four daughters: all her Sons died during her life; Four of them died natural deaths, while they were Young; of whom we make no mention in our Genealogie, because our History speaks not of them: of the Other Four, the Three Last came to a violent end, and the First died not well; for King Edward died in the strength of youth consumed by disorder; Edmund; Earl of Richmond, was, toge­ther with his Father, slain at the Battel at Wakefield; George, Duke of Clarence, was put to death in the Tower by his brother; and Ri­chard the Third was slain at Bosworth-field: She had been the lesse to be pitied, had the Funerals of her family ended in her Husband and Sons; but they extended themselves to her Grand-children male; all which she out-lived, save Edward Earl of Warwick, son to the Duke of Clarence, who being shut up in the Tower, was not to expect any other death then Violent, but to share therein with the rest, as he did: so as being made unhappie by so many miseries (any One of which had been able to have made her so) fortune would yet render her fuller of calamity, by making her lose her Honour, her own Son declaring her to be an Adultresse, thereby to make himself King: and though there were no true co­lour for it, yet was the stain true, wherewithal she was asperst, by a Basilisk that issued out of her own bowels; which was a misery above all other miseries, and of all wounds the most sensible.

[Page 208] Perkin, being retired to Flanders, if he should tarry there, he must needs be discover'd for an Impostour; and the Dutchesse of 1496 Burgundy, should she detain him there, must be known to be fo­mentresse of the Forgery: so as it behoved him to be gone from thence, and her to send him away, to go on with the work which they had both so unluckily begun. This resolution was befrien­ded by the distaste which Maximilian, and his son Philip took at Henry, for taking the Commerce of England from their States; and by the like distaste taken by Charles, King of France, for his having entred into league against him, concerning his affairs in Italy. But Perkin's missing of entertainment in Ireland, which he expect­ed (for Poynings had an eye to the actions of the Rebels there) he met with it in Scotland; whither he went, grounding his hopes upon the natural enmity of those Two Kingdoms, and upon the recommendation of the Three above-written Princes: he had solemn audience given him by the King, in the presence of all the Lords that were then at Court. His Lordlike looks, which (together with his being thought the true Duke of York) were augmented by Art, and by the gifts of Nature, captivated the good-will of the standers by. Having in a grave manner done his Obeisance to the King, he told him, That he was the unhap­pie Richard Plantagenet, son to Edward the Fourth, who drawn by fraudulent promises from his mother's bosom (she having taken Sanctuary at Westminster) was brought to the Tower of London, there to be smother'd with his brother Edward; but that charity arising in the brest of those who executed that cruel office, they were contented with the death of his Elder brother, and saved Him, giving him life, liberty, and means how to scape away: he desired to be pardoned if he did not tell the Manner how, for that the interests of those that had saved him, who were yet alive, would not suffer him so to do: that Fortune had posted him into divers places, and God had given him the grace to conceal his condition, lest being known, the evil might have befaln him which the vigilancy of a wicked Uncle threatned, who having usurped his Kingdom from him, knew he could not enjoy it but by his death, which he thought had already happened: but that his Uncle being by divine justice rewarded according to his deserts, and he grown in yeers after many circumvolutions he had withdrawn himself from France, to his Aunt, the Dutchesse of Burgundy, who being a widow, and on the Other side of the Sea, could not give him such assistance as was requisite for the reco­very of his Kingdom; which being faln from One Tyrant to Another; from an unnatural Uncle, to a Kinsman who was na­turally his Enemy, he stood in need of some to assist him; Arms being the onely Tribunal whereat pretences to Kingdoms are dis­puted: that England knew very well his claim, and his being; which some of the chiefest there had witnessed with their bloods, betrayed by their false, corrupt friends: that Corruption was easily effected, where Jealousie and Suspition made men, who [Page 209] were naturally covetous and sparing, (as was Henry) liberall and profuse: that Ireland was not ignorant of this, but that being grievously opprest, her weaknesse was such, as she could not shew her fidelity, and obedience to the House of Yorke, and to Him the true heir thereof, as shee formerly had done, and would again doe; neither was it to be doubted, but that if he could find a place to take footing in, and any one that would protect him, he should, both from the one Kingdom, and the other, receive such assi­stance; as might make the regainment of his owne an easie busi­nes: that the Dutchesse, Emperour, Arch-duke, King of France, and Himselfe, finding there was no other wheron for him to take footing, then Scotland, nor other Protector for him, then the mag­nanimous King thereof; they had advised him to present him­selfe before his Majestie, they being afterwards ready to joyne with him in so just a cause, in defence of an Orphan, and to the assistance of a Prince betraid, usurp'd upon, and driven out of this Countrey as was Hee. Here enlarging himselfe upon Henrye's il­legall pretences, upon his base, ignoble descent, vilifying his Grand-father Tewder as descended from the Scum of the poorest sort in Wales; he said that his title was in no sort good unto the Crowne, nor yet his Wifes title as long as He the Duke of Yorke (and of right King) lived: that Henry had endeavour'd to have him given up into his hands by Charles, when he was in France; but that being by Charles denied, hee had not spared for Treachery, Arms nor poyson to bereave him of his life, by the means of di­vers of his Ministers, more particularly by Robert Clifford the wic­kedst of them all; so as when all his diabolicall designes failed him, his last refuge was to slanders, and to new inventions drawn from hell, thereby to obscure the splendour of his Birth; to the end that, being believed to be what he would have him to be, his tyrannie and usurpation might not be withstood: that if he were such a one, King Charles, nor his aunt the Dutchesse would not have counsell'd him to have had recourse to the powerfull tuition of the King of Scotland, with hopes that he would succour him, as his generous Predecessours had formerly done the afflicted Kings of England; whose name, worth, and Kingdome since he inherited, he hope hee should inherit the like benefits as they had done; that hee might shew himselfe (having recovered his Kingdome) to be the most usefull and truest friend, that ever did or shall deserve to be celebrated for gratitude.

Perkins expressions, the compassion of his case, the recom­mendation of so many Princes, and their promises; or rather the Occasion to wage war with Henry (whereunto he had a great de­sire) moved the King to promise him his assistance: the which hee readily effected, though many, who knew the Imposture, disswa­ded him from him; & moreover he did not only appoint unto him an Attendance and Entertainment every way befitting a Duke of Yorke, but that it might be beleeved he tooke him to be so, he gave unto him for wife his neerest kinswoman, Katherin Gordon, daughter [Page 210] to the Earl of Huntley, a Lady of excellent beauty. Such pro­visions being made as the enterprise required, he with a good 1496 Army entred Northumberland, where Perkin, under the name of Richard Duke of Yorke, the true and lawfull heir to the Crown of England, published a Declaration, the Contents whereof were;

That being by the Grace of God, and Favour of Iames the fourth King of Scotland, entred into his Kingdom of England, he declared his coming was not to make war upon his subjects, but to free them from the tyrannie wherewith they were oppressed: that it was known the Crown belonged to the Regall house of Yorke, of which since after the death of Edward the fourth, there remained no other pretender then Himself, his Son; He and no other was the lawfull heir thereof: that Henry Teudor had usur­ped the Crown from him, and by in humane ways sought to be­tray him, and bereave him of his life: that he had vaunted him­self to have eased the subject of a Tyrant, but by excluding the Duke of Yorke, their rightfull King, he had made himself their Ty­rant: that Richords tyranny was so much the more excusable, in that his Nephews being supposed to be dead, he had some Preten­ces to colour it with: the difference between them two was, that Richard, a true Plantagenet, had for his aim the Honour of the Na­tion, and the Subjects Tranquillity; Henry, meanly born, (not re­garding the Honour of the Nation, nor the Peoples Tranquillity) had sold the Kingdoms best friends for ready money, made disho­nourable peace, and not only oppressed the subject, but unjustly put to death the Lord Chamberlain Stanley, and divers others, who were likely to have withstood his oppressions. Ambition had moved Richard to tyrannie, Henry, Avarice; Ambition had made use of cruell means; Avarice not only of Cruell, but Base, ex­tortive means: his Cruelty was witnessed by the death of so ma­ny, and by the imprisonment of the Earl of Warwick, Son to the Duke of Clarence; his Basenesse and Extortion, by such extraor­dinary grievances, Tenths, Subsidies, Taxes, and Impositions, un­der the name of Benevolences; and by the wars and peace hee made, only that he might heap up treasure: and because his un­just possession of the Crowne made him live in perpetuall fear and suspicion, not only of Men, but even of Women, hee had married Ladies of the blood Royall to people of mean condition, amongst which a sister of Him the Duke of Yorke, and a sister of his Cosin the above-mentioned Earl of Warwick, that hee might have the lesse reason to fear: so that, as hee now came to free them from violence by such forces as God should assist him withall, so by his plenary Regall authority, hee did at that present free them from all Grievances, by Re­voking and abolishing in perpetuity, All that had hetherto been imposed upon them, contrary to all Law and Custom; and to the end that the good will of his subjects might not be prejudiced by the Law, for having illegally obeyed the Tyrant [Page 211] he granted to them a Generall Pardon for all their transgressions, upon condition they would submit themselves to Him, and ac­knowledge him for their King; the which they that should be the Forwardest to do, should be the First that should enjoy the Mai­denhead of his Regall favours: that he would maintain all that his Ancestors, more particularly his Father Edward of glorious memory, had sworn unto; which was the Preservation of their Priviledges, and Liberty, the Franchise of the Clergy, Nobili­ty and People: He promised a Thousand pound in ready mo­ney, and Five Marks a yeare of Inheritance for ever, whosoever should take or kill Henry: he declared that the King of Scotlands assisting of him was not done out of any Bargain or Promise made Prejudiciall to the Kingdom of England, but out of the near love to Justice, a vertue wherein he excelled; and that when he should have put him in a condition or posture that he might be a­ble to defend himself by the forces of his own English subjects, he would return to Scotland, pretending to nothing else but the Honour of having Raised Him up.

This Declaration proved like seed sown on the sands: where­upon King Iames, after he had long in vain expected some Com­motion, be took himself to plunder, and destroy with as little mer­cy as the Scots had wont to doe in former times; and Perkin, who till now had plaid his part extreamly well, failed in This, shew­ing too much Affection therein. For having desired the King not to suffer his men, contrary to the Laws of Arms to commit such out-rages, for that no purchase whatsoever could be acceptable to him, which was got with the Blood and Ruin of his own sub­jects: the King, who either had before informed himself of his being; or else began to suspect it by this his so Affected and Im­pertinent request, answered him, smiling; That he took too much care of what did not at all belong unto him; and that to endeavour the preservation of an Enemies countrey, was the most that could be done by a Perfect Christian. Having enriched his souldiers, he returned back, knowing that great forces were coming down upon him, and that it would be dangerous for him to stay till they came, finding himself encumbred by that great booty he took along with him.

Merchants were much troubled at the breach of Commerce between England and Flanders; insomuch as, meeting with a fit occasion, they began to treate thereof with their seve­rall Princes; since that the reducing it to the former condi­tion, would make for the advantage of Both sides, and there­fore was to be desired by Both: by the Arch-duke; for being informed that Perkin (the cause of the disorder) was a Chea­ter, he should have wronged his Reputation in favouring him any longer; and have much injured his Subjects and Himself, by the evill that might there hence have resulted, by Henry; for not valuing now Perkin any more, the breach of correspondence with Burgundy was not only prejudiciall to Private men, but even [Page 212] to Himselfe; since that thereby his Customes (a principall arrow in the quiver of Princes) were diminished: notwithstanding though he did desire it, he would not seem to doe so, but appeare to be drawn by the instance of others. Commissioners were sent from both sides, who renewed their friendship, and reestablished the commerce in a better way then formerly: and to the articles touching this busines, and the Freedom of Fishing, was added an Inhibition of either side to entertain the Rebels of one another; in which article the Lands belonging to the Dutchesse Margaret were by Name inserted, to the end that such as did adhere to Per­kin might not be shelter'd there.

The affront offered by the King of Scotland, stuck yet in Hen­rie's stomack, which was not to be revenged but by war, war was not to be made without money, nor was money to be had without a Parliament: wherefore he called a Parliament, and therein ac­quainted them with the Losses he had suffer'd by the King of Scots in Northumberland; who having no cause of enmity with Him, had taken upon him for a Pretence, to protect Perkin, though he knew him to be an Impostour; how the injury was aggravated by the Affront; for finding that countrey unarmed and void of defence, after having ruin'd and burnt up the countrey, he had safely re­tired himselfe, laden with booty, into Scotland. This busines was judged worthy of the Kings consideration; (such injuries not be­ing without shame to be put up) wherefore the Parliament de­creed unto him good store of money, to be raised according to the usuall wont; which being paid in all parts else, was only de­ny'd to be paid in Cornewall; the Inhabitants thereof thought this an unjust exaction; and that the Scotish Commotion was so farre from Them, as they were not thereby to be obliged as were the countries thereby detrimented; asif when the Head akes, the Legs and Feet be not concern'd, but may put over the execution of their duties to the Arms and Neck, as neerer thereunto. To make good this mutiny two mutinous heads appeared; the one a Farrier by his trade, the other an Atturney, each of which had their ends; Michael Ioseph the Black-smith was moved by Am­bition, beleeving such a seditious action would adde luster unto him, and that his clownish loquacity would procure him the first place amongst the Countrey people: Thomas Flammock, the At­turney, having gotten credit by his profession, had so far won up­on their opinions, as they beleeved the denying of this Subsidy, and their mutiny thereupon to be Legall, and meritorious: his opinion was of authority sufficient to interpret the Power of King or Parliament: he had instructed them that they were not bound to the payment of any Subsidies for war with Scotland; that the Law had provided for it by other means, so as this Subsidy was invented to fleece the People: he therefore advised them to present a Petition to the King, who for the example of other men could not chuse but punish the Inventors of it: they both offer'd themselves to lead them on, till they should find some man [Page 213] of Quality, under whom, they, with the hazard of their lives, would continue to serve them; but that for matter of Life, there was no Hazard at all, their demand being so Just, as it would be approved of by all the other shires; since the publick good was treated of, from which the Kings particular interest could not be separated. Hereby encouraged, they took up arms; and because they were not all provided of Bows and Arrows, they arm'd themselvs with such Tools as belonged to their severall Trades. They entered by Somerset-shire, and passed through Devonshire, not offering any manner of Out-rage: when they came to Taun­ton, they slew one of the Commissioners for the Subsidy, who had shew'd himselfe more busie therein then the rest: at Wels they met with the Lord Audley, who having had former intelligence with their two Leaders, was chosen their Generall. They would go into Kent, out of an opinion that that countrey (which never having been conquer'd, was according to Flammock, the Freest part of England) was likely to joyne with them: but finding the contrary, some wondred at it, and other some were mad there­at: the former handsomly drawing their neck out of the Yoke, returned home; the others, passing forwards, thought, that since they had met with no opposition in so long a march, the King and the Citie would suffer them to make their Own Conditions: and with this foolish imagination they encamped themselves within sight of London, between Greenwich and Eltham.

The King was troubled at the first news of this mutiny, fearing lest he should have Three Irons in the fire at once: the people of Cornewall, Perkins secret Intelligence, and the war with Scotland. He took up arms as soon as the Parliament was ended, thinking to go towards Scotland; but crost by the other occasion, he sus­pended that resolution: and because he had sent the Lord d' Awbe­ny (whom he had made Lord Chamberlain in lieu of Stanley) with some forces to the confines of Scotland; he sent for him back, to take such counsell as necessity required, and sent in his stead the Earle of Surrey with order to defend the countrey, in case the Scots should fall in upon it: he moved not at the very First (as was his wont) against the Rebels; for the Countrey, not being by them endammaged, did not require it; and he was confident that wanting Money and Ammunition, they would, of themselvs, Disband as they had already begun to doe, when they failed in their hopes of the Kentish men: but when he saw them encampt, he resolved to fight with them; moved thereunto, by his appa­rant Advantages, by which fore-seeing what might be effected, he freed himselfe from all the hazards of Fortune: He divided his forces, which far exceeded Theirs, into three great Battali­ons: he assigned the First over to the Earles of Oxford, Essex and Suffolke; the Second, to the Chamberlain; and he commanded the Third, Himselfe: he appointed the First to place themselves behind the Hill where They were encamped, and to secure all the Passages save that towards London, that being inclosed like wild [Page 214] beasts in a toyl, they might not know how to escape: he ordered the Chamberlain to give them battell in the Front, having given unto him the Best and most Experienc'd Souldiers in all the Ar­my, being it was on Them that the greatest burthen lay; he Himself stayed with the Third between London and Them, to supply them, if it should be needfull, and to fight with them that should dare march towards the Citie, as the citizens apprehend­ed: The fear hereof had caused much confusion in London; ci­tizens were seen to run armed through the streets, some to the Wals, some to the River, minding what they had to doe: for they could not think they were come from Cornewall, the utter­most bounds of England, with other intention then to enrich themselves by the sacking of that opulent Citie; and they did not hold that their having past quietly through all other parts, ought to be taken for an argument to make them beleeve the like upon This occasion: but understanding the good or­der which the King had taken, how that he had interessed his own Person in the danger; that the enemy was to win Three battels, before they could come to the Citty; and that the Com­manders were not only Faithfull and valiant, but such as they confided in, they laid aside their fears. The King had caused it to be noysed abroad (to the end that he might take them the more unprovided) that he would not fight with them till the Munday following; but towards the Saturday Evening, the Lord d' Awbeny set upon some troops, which (not looking to be fought withall till Munday) were upon the side of the Hill, who though they resisted valiantly, yet being but Few in number, they could not make good their Station; so as quitting it, it was easie for the Kings Forces to clime the Hill, make themselves Ma­sters of the Plain, and give on upon them: they (though taken thus at unawares with their troops out of order) received the assault so handsomly, as the Lord d' Awbeny, fighting in the Head of his men, and playing the part rather of a Common Souldier, then a Commander, was taken Prisoner; but was presently rescued: for the Rebels being ill armed without Commanders, Artillery, or Horse, they could not so far resist, but that in a short time, two Thousand of them were slain, and a great many taken Pri­soners. The Generall Audley, and the two Seducers, (the Attur­ney, and the Black-smith) suffered themselves basely to be ta­ken alive. Three hundred of the Kings side were slain, all of them almost by Arrows; for the Cornish had strong Bows, and very long Arrows. The King came thither to make many Knights Ban­nerets; and others he made in St. Georges fields where he was en­camped: he gave the goods of such as were taken, to those that took them, to be disposed of as they listed. Audley was behead­ed upon Tower-hill, having on him a Coat of paper torn, with his Arms painted thereon, the wrong side upwards. The Atturney and the Black-smith were brought to Tibourn, where they were Hang'd, Drawn, and Quarter'd; the Black-smith not [Page 215] ceasing to shew his vanity and vain-glory at the very last; belee­ving in future times his name would be big in story.

The King would not have their quarters be sent into Cornewall, as he had appointed; for, hearing that they were not totally ap­peased, he thought it was not good to incite them any further. To all the rest he gave a Generall Pardon; so as in so scandalous a rebellion, there were but Three that suffer'd: those not being cast into the number which were slain in the Battell, who perished rather by Fortune, then by way of Punishment.

The King of Scotland, hearing of this rebellion, made use of it: he went to besiege Norham Castle, plundering the countrey. This Castle belonged to Fox, the Bishop of Durham; who fore-seeing it would be besieged, had doubly furnished it with all sorts of Munition, causing the herds of Cattle, & what else might be help­ful to the Enemy, to be withdrawn into the greatest strengths. The Earl of Surrey, who was ready, upon all occasions, in Yorke-shire, not far from thence, hasted thither, accompanied with good store of Souldiers: the which when King Iames understood, he with-drew himself, and was pursued by the Earl; who not able to over-take him, sate down before Hayton Castle, one of the strongest Castles between Barwick and Edenborough; the which he quickly took: and not meeting with any opposition, he re­turned to Yorke-shire, not doing any more; these two actions ha­ving produced no matter of Note, but the Preservation of One Castle, and the winning of Another.

At this time came Pedro d' Aiala, a man of praise-worthy con­ditions, to Henry; being sent Embassadour from Ferdinand, and Isabel, King, and Queen of Castile. The pretence of his Embassie was, to compound the differences between Henry, and the King of Scotland: but the true cause was to negotiate a marriage be­tween Katharine, their second daughter, and Prince Arthur. My opinion is; that these two wise Princes were cautious of entring into a busines of this nature, till by this peace they might see Henries state setled: for considering him to be a New King, they did not a little weigh the machinations of an Impostour, which being grounded upon the appearances, though but of a False name, were upheld by the King of Scotland; who if he should forsake him, they would soon vanish. Henry willingly embraced the Offer, being no way inclined to the unprofitable wars with Scotland; by the cessation whereof, two great advantages were to redound to him: the one; he would unkennell Perkin from out the Kingdom, with hopes to get him into his power; or else, that, wanting that leaning stock, he might easily end the busines Himself: the other; his desire to reign in Peace, being weary of so many molestations, which rising one in the neck of another, had always troubled him. So as agreeing to whatsoever d' Aiala should treate of (his Honour, and all wherein it might be con­cern'd, always preserved) he suffer'd him to go into Scotland: where having rough-cast the busines, and perswaded the King [Page 216] to listen to Peace, (for his endeavours were seconded by the Counsel, who favoured England) he writ to Henry to send some discreat man, who, together with Him, might end the busines with the Commissioners of Scotland. The King gave his Commission to Fox, Bishop of Durham, who was then at Norham, and sent him. When they met together in Iedworth they could not agree, by reason of many difficulties that arose: Henry demanded to have Perkin delivered up unto him; and Iames could not doe it, without a great aspersition to his Honour: for, though he knew he was but a Iuggler, yet having called him the Duke of Yorke, made war in his name, and married him to a neer kinswoman of his own, the doing of it would injure his own Faith and Repu­tation. On Henries behalfe, was likewise demanded satisfaction for the Losse he had suffer'd, and the Restitution of such Booty as had been taken from England; which was impossible to be had: the booty was disperst amongst the Souldiers; and the King had not of his Own wherwith to give satisfaction for the Losses suf­fer'd: it was more possible for the one to suffer the Losse, then for the other to Repay it. But all of them being met together with a Desire of Peace, 'twas easie to find a way to accommodati­on; wherefore leaving off the Treaty til another time, they agreed on a Truce, upon condition that Perkin should be dismist Scotland. The Kings were here withall contented: Truce work­ing the same effect. King Iames, calling Perkin to him, shewed him; that, according to his promise, he had done what lay in His power for him; which He had not correspondently done, in any thing he promised: for having made him beleeve, hee had a Party in England, not so much as one man had appeared to side with him after Two attempts made: that he (the King) had together with his person hazarded his Kingdom to a perpetual war: The Scots would none of it; neither would his Occasions permit it: that he had reason to complain of none but of Himself, who in a bu­sines of so great importance, had not cast up his accounts aright: that the Emperour, Arch-duke, Dutchesse of Burgundy, and the King of France, had been faulty both to Himself, and Him, that he could not doe all of Himself, whilest they, far from Danger, looked on from safe places, without either dammage or expence: though this were a sufficient cause, yet should it not have been of force enough to have made him change his former reso­lution, had there been any one that would have acknowledged him for the Duke of Yorke, as there was none that would acknowledge him for so much as an English man: Hee would no farther examine his Genealogy, nor make himselfe Judge of anothers pretences whilest there is not any one that dreams, much lesse beleeves him to be Sonne to Edward the fourth: that hee had given him for wife a Noble Lady, his neer kinswoman, to the end the Scocs might be moved to favour him, and the English might take courage to own him; and if the second designe which depended on Him, (Perkin) did not suc­ceed [Page 217] well; the first which depended on Him (the King) failed not: that his Kingdom would have Peace; which they could not have so long as He stayed in it: that therefore it behooved him to be gone; for having denied to Deliver him up to the King of England, as was by the said King Demanded, he could not de­ny to send him out of Scotland; which should he not doe, it would be contrary to the interests of One of them, and repugnant to the affairs of the Other: Hee told him; Times did alter; so as if hee were the man hee gave himself out to be, it was impossi­ble but the Time would bring the Truth to light: that though Fortune were Powerfull, yet was she not able to prevaile against a certain Truth; if therefore his Pretence were such, he could not want Friends, and Furtherers; if otherwise, it behooved him to look to himself, and to put on apparell fitting his condi­tion. Perkin, though convinced, seemed not to be so; casting all his bad successe upon the Aversenesse of Fortune. And assu­ring the King, hee would never be unmindfull of the favour he had received from him, he embarked himself together with his Wife, and such whose desperate condition necessitated them to follow him, in three ships which the King gave him, and made for Ireland, for he had no hopes in Flanders, by reason of the new friendship between the Arch-duke and Henry.

The Cornish men understanding that he was come into Ireland, intreated him to come over to them; professing their obedi­ence, their Lives, and Lively-hoods, for the advancing of his pretences to the Crown. They who were taken Prisoners in the last Battaile, were returned home; having ransomed themselves at small rates from such as had taken them: and the Kings cle­mency had wrought contrary effects in them, making them more enraged; for they did not interpret it as proceeding from Kind­nesse, but Feare: so as falling upon new conceits, beleeving that all the other shires would follow them, they received Perkin with great applause; who Landed there with four little Barks; in Sep­tember, having with him not above a Hundred and Forty men. Three Thousand of the Cornish presented themselves before Him in Bodmin all armed: from whence he sent forth a Declara­tion under the name of Richard the fourth, King of England, pro­mising great matters for the ease of the present Tyrannical go­vernment. Hee had with him Three chiefe Counsellours come with him; a broken Mercer, a Taylor, and a Scrivener: Se­cretary Frion had left him, when he saw none appeare for him in England: these three, seconded by the rest, were of opinion, the first thing which was to be done, was to winne some good Town, which might make for his Safety and Reputation, and might encourage the rest. They pitched before Exeter, which be­ing a great and rich Citie, the hope of Booty invited other to come unto Perkin. They made faire promises to the Citizens; amongst which, That King Richard would make their Citie a new London, in recompence of their Fidelity, and for their being the [Page 218] First that did acknowledge him for their King: but wanting Artillery to force them, bare words were not sufficient to per­swade them. The Citie sent newes of the siege to the Court, and demanded succour; the which Perkin feared, and therefore did all he might to make himselfe Master of it before the succour could come: He assaulted it by Scaling Ladders, and set fire on one of the Gates, endeavouring to enter by one way or other; but the wals being well defended, the fire quenched, and many of the Assaillants slain, the danger past over. The King, when he heard of Perkins arrivall, and that he had be­sieged Exeter, was exceeding glad, hoping to free himselfe from rather a Troublesome then Dangerous molestation. He sud­denly dispatcht away forces to releeve it under the Conduct of the Lord Chamberlain, accompanied by the Lord Brooke, and Sir Rice ap Thomas; with directions that they should make it be given out that he was following himself in Person. But the Lords that lived in those parts, knowing they should doe an ac­ceptable service, if they should come into the field unrequested, assembled many troops. The Earl of Devonshire, with his Son, and the chief Gentlemen of the Countie on the one side; and the Earl of Buckingham on the other; so as being joyned together before the Chamberlaine began to march, they adverti­sed the King of what they had done, desiring to receive his com­mands. Perkin, understanding these preparations, raised his siege and went to Taunton, though the Cornish did much encou­rage him, promising not to leave him whilest they had a drop of blood in their bodies. But, were it either through feare, or that Warinesse had taught him not to trust to such promises, he would be gone; having about seven Thousand men with him, and seeming howsoever to be couragious: But forsaking all these the next night he fled, with Three-score and Ten horse, to Beaulieu; where with some of them he tooke Sanctuary. The King, hearing of his flight, sent five hundred Horse after him, fearing lest he might escape away by Sea; but finding he had taken Sanctuary, they used no other violence, but to keepe a good Guard over him till they should receive new Commands. The troops which remained in Taunton, yeelded themselves to the Kings mercy; who pardoned them all, save some Few, which being the most seditious amongst them, were put to death. And because the Lady Gordon, wife to Perkin, was left by him in Cornewall, at Saint Michaels Mount, as in a safe place, the King sent to take her from thence; not so much out of Civility to so Noble a Lady, as fearing lest shee might be with Child; which should shee have prov'd, it might have beene a new occasion of farther trouble: but it was Gods goodnesse to them both that shee was not. Shee was with all possible Honour receiv'd in Exeter; the King did much compassionate her excellent Beauty, which, deserving a true Prince, was falne into the hands of a cheating Impostour, [Page 219] whom shee notwithstanding loved, as not beleeving him to be so. Hee sent her to the Queene, and assigned her a good Pen­sion, the which shee enjoyed during his life, and many yeares after.

He made a solemn entry into Exeter, where having thanked the Citizens for their Loyaltie, he took off his sword he wore, and gave it to the Major, with power to have it carried before him. He sent expresse Messengers to the Sanctuary, to Perkin, with pro­mise of Pardon, who seeing himself destitute of all hopes of safety, yeelded himself; and coming forth of Sanctuary, put himself into their hands; and was brought to the Court, but not to the Kings Presence, though oft-times, for Curiosities sake, he would see him out of the Gallery window. Divers Commissio­ners were nam'd to proceed against such as had sided with Perkin; who were Punished with Pecuniary mulctes: the world not be­ing deceived in their opinion, that he was better satisfied to let the Purses blood, then the Veins. The Scorn and Mockery which Perkin received from the Courtiers, and from such as ran to see him, as if he had been a Monster, would have been a greater pu­nishment to a man of Honour then a Thousand Deaths. When he came to London, he was led on Horse-back through all the Ci­tie, to the Tower, and from thence brought back again to West­minster; suffering by the way a world of opprobrious and injuri­ous Language. For his greater ignominy, they led another bound neer unto him, who was Farrier to the Kings stables, and who, next to the three above-named, having been one of his chief Counsellours, had in his running away put on the habit of an Hermit, hoping to escape better thereby, then by Sanctuary: but being known, taken, and brought to London, he was hanged, after he had accompanied his New Master in this Procession. Per­kin, upon examination, declared at full his whole Genealogy; his Father, Mother, Grandfathers, Vncles, Cozins, their Occu­pations, & Countrey; his voyages, together with many other super­fluous things: concealing, or not setting down in writing, what was most Essentiall; as, that his Father was a Jew; that he him­self was born in London, held at the Font by King Edward; and the Dutchesse of Burgundy her practises. He confessed his going to Portugall; but not, that he was sent by Her: In like manner he confest his journey to Ireland. Whereupon the Confession, being first written with his own hand, and afterwards Printed, did not satisfie the Peoples curiosity; since they saw the name of the afore-said Dutchesse (the chief Actor in this Comedy) pur­posely concealed. But the King would not irritate her any farther, thinking it sufficient punishment for her to be so diversly spo­ken of as shee was; together with her own vexation, that her inventions not succeeding should be made evident to the world.

The Civill wars whereof I write, ought to end with the death of Richard the 3. without any further progress: but the fire therof [Page 220] though quenched, having left hot ashes; and caused the altera­tions of those two Impostours, Symnell and Warbeck; it was requi­site for me to write This life likewise, though with intention to end it (according to the Object, and Title propounded to my self) with the Imprisonment of the Later of the two; the last exhalation of all these Heats: But it would have mis-become me to have left it abruptly off (there remaining so Little of it) with­out discovering the fountains head from whence the Kings of Scotland derive their lawfull succession to the Crown of England; and without setting down the punishment of Warbeck, and of the Earl of Warwick, the last Male of Plantagenets race, whose death freed the Kingdom from Pretenders. I wil then proceed, with the greatest Brevitie that may be.

The truce between England and Scotland was no sooner made, but that an unexpected accident hapned, which had wel nigh broke it, and turn'd all things to their former troublesom condi­tion. The Castle of Norham is parted from the confines of Scot­land by the river Tweed: so as neighbour-hood having caused con­versation and friendship between some young men of Scotland, and of England, the young men of Scotland had wont to passe over the River, and come to drinke and sport with those of Norham: the Souldiers of the Garrison growing mistrustful of this custom, (their grudges not being totally extinguished by the Truce) did not thinke their coming proceeded from Friendship, but out of a desire to pry into the Fortifications; whereupon falling first to Words, and then to Blows, the Scotch-men by the disadvantage of place, and ods in number, were hardly treated; and some of them were slain. King Iames, taking this as done purposely to in­jure Him, dispatcht away an expresse Herauld to complain there­of; and, in case the King should not give good satisfaction, to denounce War. Henry, who minded nothing but his quiet, an­swer'd; That he was sorry for the Accident, which hee neither knew of, nor did allow of: that hee would inquire into the Ac­tors of it, and give them such punishment as there should be no occasion to breake the Truce. But, time passing on, and nothing done, Iames, thinking this was but his Dissembling, with inten­tion that Delay working Forgetfulnesse, might exempt the faulty from Punishment; was more offended then formerly: and certainly, somewhat of mischiefe would have hapned, had not the Bishop of Durham, who was Lord of Norham, wisely taken order in it. For, knowing that the injury was done by His men, he wrote in so civill a manner to Iames about it, as that he rested satisfied, and desired the Bishop to come unto him, that they might treate upon the present occasion, and upon certaine other things that concern'd both the Kingdoms. The Bishop acquain­ted Henry with this, who gave him leave to goe: hee therefore went to the Abbey of Melrosse where the King then was; who at their first meeting complained of the injury done. The Bishop answer'd; that could not be call'd an injury, where there was no [Page 221] intention of Offending: He confest the too much Rashnesse of his men occasioned by misfortune; not out of any intention to offend Him: the offence, (if any there were) must needs pro­ceed, either from the King, or the Garrison; not from the King; for he was not of such a nature; which if he were, it was not likely he would make a Truce, to Breake it immediatly, without any Advantage or Occasion: nor did it proceed from the Soul­diers, who were sure to be Punished for it: a chance, unthought of, caused by suspition, could not be termed an Injury; not, that hee did not confesse the Authors Guilty of it; but with the Di­stinction allow'd of by the Lawes, between Accidentall, and Pre­meditated faults: that, as the Later were worthy of severe Pu­nishment, so were the Other of Clemency and Pardon; obtain­able upon request from so generous a Prince as was His Majestie. The King being pacified, said; He pardon'd the offence, in re­spect of the Friendship contracted, the Continuance whereof he desired. And then, drawing him aside, pursued to say; His desire was to have a Long and Good peace: the which if Henry like­wise desired, the true way to effect it would be, by Henrie's gi­ving him for wife his Eldest daughter Margaret; for that thereby, the friendship between the two nations would be perpetuall: that this was the reason why he had desired him, to come into Scotland, hoping that by his wisdom he might bring the busines to a good end. The Bishop, after having modestly answer'd for what concern'd Himselfe, promised him all the Furtherance his service could doe him, in effecting his desire. Being returned to England, he acquainted Henry with the King of Scotlands desire, wherewith King Henry was much pleased. The busines being long debated in Counsell, the match was agreed upon, so as Peace might precede it; which was done; Peace being concluded du­ring the lives of the two Kings, and for one Year after: and the Marriage was to be celebrated, but not Yet; the Bride, who was born the 29. of November, 1689. being too young.

Charles the eighth King of France, died this yeare, on the 7. of Aprill; whose Funerals were with great pomp celebrated in London; the King being very sorrowfull for his death, as calling to mind the Favours he had received from him.

Perkin was this mean while in Prison, but so carelesly looked unto, as, cosening his Keepers, he made an Escape. Not know­ing 1498. whether to fly for safety, being followed, and diligently sought for, he returned to London, & presented himself before the Prior of the Monastery of Bedlam, a man of great esteem, desiring hee might be received into that Sanctuary; the Prior acquain­ted the King with it, desiring him to pardon his life: the Coun­sell were, for the most part of a contrary opinion; desirous that he should be taken from the Sanctuary and executed, so to end their fears; but the King, at the Priors intercession, pardoned him his life; being contented that he should stand in the Pillory, from whence hee was brought with Irons upon his feet to West­minster [Page 222] yard, where hee again read his former Confession, the which he likewise did at Cheapside. Hee was againe put into the Tower to be better looked unto, but hee could not forbeare re­lapsing into his former errour. For, growing great with foure of his Keepers, who were servants to Sir Iohn Digby, Lieutenant of the Tower, and making them beleeve he was the true Duke of Yorke, he so far prevailed with them, as that they perswaded the Earl of Warwick to escape away with Perkin; which by their means hee easily might doe, when they should have kill'd the Lieutenant, and taken from him his Keyes, Monies, and best Moveables. But the plot was discover'd, and he againe put over to Commissioners.

At this time an other Earl of Warwick appeared in Kent, in imi­tation 1499 of Lambert Symnell. Lambert tooke upon him the person of the Earl of Warwick, by the direction of a Priest; and Ralph Wil­ford (for so was this second supposititious Earl called) by the di­rection of an Augustine Frier named Patrick: but this was soon ended; for the Frier puft up with a foolish confidence, and be­leeving that businesses of this nature ought to be fomented in the Pulpit, he by inciting the People destroyed the building before the Ground-worke was lay'd; so as they were both taken; Wil­ford was executed, and the Frier, in respect of his Habit, was condemn'd to perpetuall imprisonment. This accident gave the King occasion, to rid the true Earl of Warwick out of the world: whereupon it was thought that Perkins first flight, and this his se­cond endeavour to doe the like, were wrought by His cunning; he giving way to the First, that hee might put Perkin to death; and stirring up means to plot the Second, so to rid his hands of the Earl, and Perkin, both at once. But, howsoever it was, Perkin being convinc'd of this second busines, and judged to die, was hanged at Tybourn; where, by word of mouth, hee confest his Imposture. The rest, who were involved in the same fault, suffer­ed likewise with him. And Warwick, being accused before the Earl of Oxford (who, for this occasion was made High Constable of England) to have conspired together with Perkin, against the State and Person of the King, being proved guilty by his owne Confession, was beheaded upon Tower-hill. And thus in him ended the Male Line of the Plantagenets. This caused the King to be blamed, and hardly thought of, as having no reason to con­demne him: for, having been Prisoner from the Ninth yeare of his age till the Twenty-fourth, and always in fear of Death, he was kept in so great Ignorance, that hee did not know a Duck from a Capon; and therefore so little capable of the fault, that he was altogether incapable to Dream of it: and his Confessing it, was out of a beleefe he was perswaded to, that by so doing he should be pardoned. Henry endevoured to lay the cause of this death upon the King of Spaine, shewing his Letters, wherein he said; He could not resolve to marry his Daughter to Prince Ar­thur: since as long as the Earl of Warwick lived, he was not cer­taine [Page 223] of the Kingdoms succession: which might be a reason of State, but not of Justice; in so much as God would not give a Bles­sing to that match; the which that vertuous Princesse, Katharine, Knew very well; for Prince Arthur dying shortly after, and shee being repudiated by King Henry the Eight after Twenty yeares marriage, she said. It was no wonder if God had made her Vn­fortunate in her Marriages, since, they were sealed with Blood: meaning thereby, the Death of this Earle.

The King, though hee were no longer subject to the Appariti­ons which the Dutchesse of Burgundy had raised up by her In­chantments in the Transformation of People, yet was he not free from Influences common to other men; the Plague raged so ter­ribly in London, that it forced him to quit the Town; and after­wards by reason of its Vniversall dispersing of it selfe over the whole Land, to goe over to Callice; together with the Queene. The Arch-duke Philip, hearing of his being there, sent Embassa­dours to him, to congratulate his Arrivall, and to know if hee would be pleased that he Himself should come to visit him: up­on condition notwithstanding that he might be received in some Open place; not for that hee durst not Trust himself in Callice, or in what ever other Towne; but for that having refused to speake with the King of France, within any Walled place, hee would not by this Difference give him any occasion of Offence; nor that the example might prove prejudiciall to him in the fu­ture for any thing that might happen either with the same King, or with any other. The Ambassadours were graciously received, and the Condition fairly interpreted, and St. Peters Church, not far from Callice, was appointed for the place. Hee likewise sent Embassadours to the Arch-duke, who appeared at Masse in the midst between them, all of them kneeling upon the same cu­shion. As he was comming towards Callis, the King went out to meet him; and he alighted suddenly from Horse-back, as if hee would have held his stirrop: the King likewise alighted, and, ha­ving imbraced him, led him to the Church which was appointed for their parley. The causes which brought this Prince thither, were two; his own Good nature, for that he had offended him by Protecting an Impostour; which fault though it was not His (he being then a Child) yet was it the fault of his Counsell, de­pending upon the Dutchesse Margarets passion: so as he omitted nothing whereby to give the King satisfaction: the other; the Advise of his Father, and father in Law, who counselled him to make firm friendship with Henry, for the advantage of the Low­countries, and for his own Safety against the Violences of France; but most for that they both hating that King (which was Lewis the Twelfth, who succeeded Charles the Eighth) they hoped for ma­ny Advantages by his Friendship. The Arch-duke failed not to use all the art he could, though by nature he was not given to Dissembling: terming him his Father, his Protector, his Leaning­stock. The things agreed on between them were; the Confir­mation [Page 224] of the former Treaties, and two reciprocall Marriages; the one, of the Duke of Yorke, the Kings Second Son, with the Arch-dukes Daughter; the other, of Charles, the Arch-dukes Eldest Son, with Mary, the Kings Second Daughter: but all of them being either Children, or Infants, these marriages ensued not, but did evaporate through Time and Interest. The Arch­duke was hardly gone, when the King of France sent the Gover­nour of Picardy, and the Baylife of Amiens to visit Henry, acquain ting him with his Victories, together with his getting of the Dut­chy of Milaine, and his imprisonment of Lodwick Sforza, the Duke thereof. The Plague being, by this time ceased, Henry re­turn'd to London, wel satisfied with the Testimony he had received, of how good esteem he was held by the confining Princes.

At the same time Iasper Pons, a Spaniard born, a learned, and well bred man, came into England, being sent by Pope Alexander the Sixth, upon the occasion of the year of Jubile; for since they only received the benefit thereof, who went to Rome, he thought it fit that it should be commuted for by Remote countries, the inhabitants whereof could not make so Long a journey: in so much as they staying at Home, might receive the same indul­gences which those did that went on Pilgrimage to Rome, if they would give a certain summe of money to be imployed in the wars against the Turks, whose advancing Hungary, Germany, and Italy, did much apprehend. This man did so wisely negotiate this af fair, as he thereby got a great summe of money, without any manner of grudging or murmuring, save against the Kings Per­son; who being naturally given to Extort from his People, it was thought hee would not have suffered these monies to have beene gathered, had not he Himselfe had a share therein. An opinion which was known to be false in the time of Iulius the Se­cond; who making it a difficult busines to grant Prince Henry a Dispensation to marry Katharine, who had been wife to his bro­ther Arthur, Cardinall Adrian de Corneto, who endeavoured the ob­tayning of it, alleadged amongst the rest of the merits of King Henry, his Father, that he had not pretented to share in the mo­nies raysed by Pons in that kingdom. Neither was there any dis­simulation used in this, by Alexander, at least there Appeared none: for he propounded this war in the Publick Consistory, in the presence of as many Emssadours as were then resident in that Court; with designe to set upon the Turkish territories in Three severall places: in Thracia; by the Hungarians, Bohemians, and Polanders: in Greece, by the French and Spaniards; and at Con­stantinople by him Himselfe, accompanied by the King of England, and the State of Venice: and he sent Nuntioes to All Princes, that they would joyne their Forces and Monies according to their Abilities, in so pious a worke. The Answer which the King gave to Pons, was; That he was ready to Accompany his Holinesse, but that it was impossible for him to doe it in that manner; the remote Distance of his countrey would put him to Double the [Page 225] charge of any of the rest: that the Kings of France, and Spaine, were first to be made Friends; which if it should not be effected, all other designes would prove but vain: that when they should be made friends, 'twas they that best might accompany him, as be­ing Neerest him, which if they should Refuse to doe, He would wait upon him, Himselfe, not considering either Expence, or other incommodity: upon Condition he might have some Ci­ties upon the Sea-side in Italy, delivered into his possession, to make use of what ever chance might happen. This answer, and, it may be, the Like of other Princes, made this undertaking va­nish away to Nothing; when the Proposition was such as might very well have beene effected.

Cardinall Morton, who was likewise Arch-bishop of Canterbury, and Chancellour of England, died this year. We have spoken of him formerly. He was a man of great Integrity, yet somewhat given to Gripplenesse, which made him be ill thought of, for it was beleev'd he had nourished in the King his humour of Imposi­tions. But, time proved the Contrary; and had he left no other laudable memory behind him, his being the First agent in the uni­ting of the two Roses, is a merit whereby to render him Glori­ous to all Posterity.

Iohn, Earl of Lincolne, (he who was slain at the battle of Stoke) left his brother Edmund, Earl of Suffolke, heir to his Humour, and his Misfortune: in so much as calling to mind that he was Son to Elizabeth, who was sister both to Edward and Richard, hee thought he might be as bold under This King, as he had been un­der the Other two his Vncles. He had slain a man; in such a man­ner notwithstanding, as the Circumstances did not Aggravate the fault. Henry gave him his Pardon: but so, as he was to passe all the course of Law, and Justice, and to appear before the Iudges, and receive Sentence of Condemnation. This manner of proceeding against him did so touch him to the quick, as re­puting the Favour that was shew'd him, Ignominy, he sodainly left the Land, and went into Flanders, to his Ant Margaret: at which though the King was offended, yet was he resolved to ap­ply Lenitive salves, giving order to his Agents in those parts to offer him his Pardon at the very First; so as he would return; knowing that Despair in banisht men begets thoughts in them of Little service to Themselves, and of much Trouble to Others. It succeeded according to his imagination; for accepting the Pardon, he returned to England; the Dutchesse not opposing him therein, either for that she thought his Genius inferior to the Kings; or else that she was satisfied that in Perkins publick Con­fession, her name was conceal'd. But arrogant and proud na­tures (such as was that of this Earl) leading men into Dangers, brought this man at Last to his Ruin, under Henry the Eighth.

The match between Prince Arthur, and the Infanta Katherine of 1501 Spaine, which had been treated on for the space of seven years; received this year its maturity; the King her Father sending her, [Page 226] nobly attended into England. The tediousnesse of this negotiati­on proceeded from Both parties: for the two Kings being endued with equall wisedome, before the establishing of the Affinity, would see each others fortune established, the Infanta had for her Portion 200000 Duckets, without any covenant of Restitution either to Her selfe, or her Family; and in lieu thereof she had set out for Ioynture, the third part of the Principality of Wales, of the Dutchy of Cornewall, and of the County of Chester: and if she should come to be Queene, she was to have as much as any other Queene before her had had. The marriage was solemnized in Pauls: the Bridegroome was Fifteene yeers of age; the Bride, Eighteene. The Festivals being ended, they returned to keepe their Court at Ludlow in Wales; but their abode there, was but for while: for the young Prince died there, on the second day of Aprill in the yeare 1502. five moneths after he was married; ha­ving lived 15. Years, 6. moneths, and 13. Dayes. Nothing more is to be said of him: Authors write nothing of him; since hee lived not long enough to be knowne. All that is related of him, is: That being naturally given to study, he was learned beyond his Age, and the Condition of a Prince. This his death did much molest the King: the Infanta Katharine was left upon his hands; and if Prince Henry were to marry Another wife; he was to find out a second Joynture; a thing repugnant to the merit of State, and to his Frugall honour: whereupon, resolving to marry him to the same Katharine, he wrote concerning it, to Spaine and Rome. Ferdinand was contented; but he met with Difficulties, in pro­curing a Dispensation from the Pope, and in getting his Sonnes Good-will; who, though he was then but Twelve years old, had courage enough to oppose his Father therein a Good while. It proved an unfortunate marriage: miserable Changes, and Troubles arose from the Divorce which thereupon en­sued.

The marriage of the King of Scots with Princesse Margaret, which was treated of some years past by the meanes of Bishop 1503 Fox, was celebrated this year; which together with the preceding yeare, was remarkeable for two Marriages, and two Deaths: for the marriage of Prince Arthur, and his Death, the Preceding year; and for the marriage of the King of Scotland, and the Death of Queene Elizabeth, this Present year: the Queene dying in Child­bed; and the Child dying likewise, not long after. This marriage was published in London, in Ianuary, for which Te Deum was sung in Pauls, and great Joy was had in the Citie. The cause of this long Dclay was by reason of the Princesse her tender age; who at the Consummation thereof, which was in August, was not above Fourteen yeares old, Besides; many of the Counsell had op­posed it; for if the Second Prince should dye as did the First, England was to fall under Scotland; which they much abhorr'd: but the King cleared this opinion; for if it should fall out as was proposed the cleane Contrary was like [Page 227] to happen: the King of Scotland would live in England; the Les­ser being to give way to the Greater: which would not have hapned, if this Princesse should have beene married to France, and the succession should have fallen to her Children. Every one being satisfied with this reason, there was not any that opposed it. And this is the match which hath given the lawfull succession of England to the Kings of Scotland, which hath hapned without any opposition, in these our dayes.

The King now finding himself at quiet on all sides, his Neigh­bours being his Friends, and having extinguisht all Intestine broyls, hee fell to be exceeding avaricious: so as those vertues, which placed before in a Benigne aspect, gave forth happy beams, were by the Interposition of this vice found to be in the shadow of a prodigious Ecclipse. Princes meet easilier with fitting Mini­sters for what is Bad, then for what is Good. Henry met with two pernicious instruments who Nourishing Covetousnesse in him, did Increase it in him by unjust means, and by drawing blood from the Purse-veins of Thousands of Innocent people. These were Edmund Dudley, and Richard Empson; the first being borne a Gentleman, did by his wickednesse obscure the splendour of his Blood: the other, being the Son of a Shoo-maker, made good, that from Filth and Mire, nothing but Pollution and Stinch can be expected. They were admitted to the Court, being both of the same profession, Lawyers; and they by alike means got alike Preferment, being Both made Privy Counsellours: so as their Ambition being satisfied, their Avarice remained to be so likewise; which is the drift of Ambition, in Basely-minded men: but because Ingenuity and Justice, though they may nourish the moderate, cannot satisfie the Insatiate, they would not make use of Them, but of their Contraries; that from the Rivers of Gold which sprung up in the Kings Coffers, they might derive some Channels of the same metall, which might run into Their Purses, at the charge of King and Subject. The Laws, at that time, either by reason of the Civill Warres, or through the Neg­ligence of the Iudges, were either Forgotten, or growne out of Use; and the Patrimony of the Crowne, enjoyed by many, by vertue of Long-Leases, being become almost as good as Fee­simple to the Enjoyers, moved the King to look into them; and these two, who were thought the most Learned, and best Practi­sed in the Law, were by him chosen to this purpose, and had full Authority given them. But ther was never any so Good or Whol­som Law, which hath not been profan'd by Malice and Corrupti­on. They raised up many Accusers; and the Accused being put in Prison, and there kept (the time appointed for their justifica­tion, being maliciously Prorogued) they were enforced to Purchase their Liberties, with Great summes of Money: Others, being cited by Them, or their Delegates, the usuall course of Law not being observed, were Condemned; they abounded in False Witnesses, and False Pretences, [Page 228] whereby they impoverished the wealthy: Wards was not suffer­ed to enter upon their Lands without vast disbursements: Such Iudges, as, swayed by Integrity, resisted Their wils, were either better Taught by Imprisonment, or Ruin'd by Amercements: Laws which had at sundry times been enacted by Parliament, more for Terrour then Punishment, (a great part whereof were Repealed too) were without any manner of remission, rigo­rously put in Execution: in so much that the King himselfe, be­ing a little before his Death told by conscionable men; what In­justice had been done; he left it in his Will, that such as had un­justly suffered should have Ample Satisfaction made them; Which he Himself ought to have done in his Life time; but did not: for when Covetousnesse hath once taken possession of a mans heart, the Offices of Conscience have no Power; the Law of the Flesh which opposeth the Law of the Mind, doth captivate us under the Law of Sin; where withall being ensnared we can­not get loose againe. I recount not All that is written to this ef­fect; I will only relate One passage, which may serve for all the Rest. The King as hee came to Henningham, a Castle belonging to the Earl of Oxford (one whom he was wont to make use of, both in War and Peace) he was there received and feasted with much Splendour, and Magnificence: all that, by whatsoever ti­tle, held any Land of the Earl, came at that time to give their Attendance on him; of the which many were Gentlemen, many Yeomen: these and the Gentlemen likewise, wore, all of them, the Earles Blew-coats, and Feathers in their hats, of the Earles colours: for the rest of their apparell, they were all richly clad, every man according to his Condition: when he King came forth, they placed themselves in two Rows, making a gallant shew in the Great Hall: He, looking wistly upon them, asked the Earl, if they were All his Servants? who smiling, answered; No; for then he should be thought an Ill husband; but that they were all his Tenants, who were come, upon this occasion, to wait upon His Majestie: the King having thanked him for his Good Entertainment, said unto him; that the Report of hospitality came short of the Truth; but that he could not suffer his Lawes to be broken in his Presence, without resenting it: and that his Atturney generall should talke with him about it. The Lords were then to give but a Certain number of Liveries, or Blew coats; which Law whether it stand still in Force, or no, I know not. This busines cost the Earle Ten Thousand Pounds (for for so much was he compounded with the Kings Officers) besides the Charge he had been at, in his Entertainment, which was very Great; and which might have Freed him from the Punishment he was run into, had the Kings Gratitude been answerable to his Covetousnesse, in emptying the purse of one of the Noblest and Best deserving subjects he had.

We related a little before, how the Earl of Suffolke returned to England, where he tarried all this time, the King treating him [Page 229] Well, and he not having any occasion of Discontent: but, were it his own Mis-fortune which would be his Overthrow, or the Expences he had been at, at Prince Arthurs marriage which had dipt him deep in Debt, or the Hatred he bare unto the King, which could not suffer him to see him reign in Peace; he fled away into Flanders with his brother Richard; to the Peoples great Discontent, who thought that certainly some great Disorder must ensue thereupon: many of the Nobility being ill affected, and which already began to propose New hopes unto themselves, and to plot Insurrections. The King being accustomed to such like passions, and seeming as if he minded it not, wrote to Sir Robert Curson, Captain of Hammes Castle, that, feigning to Rebell, he should passe over into Flanders, to the Earl of Suffolke. Hee, forsaking his Command, seemed to steale away; he went unto the Earl, who with much joy welcom'd him; discovering unto him all his Designs, and who they were that sided with him in England. Curson advertised the King hereof; who imprisoned them, putting the Chiefest of them in the Tower: amongst which, William Courtney, Eldest Sonne to the Earl of Devonshire, (who, having married Katharine, Daughter to Edward the fourth, was become his Brother in Law) William de la Poole, brother to the Earl of Suffolke; the Lord George Abergavenny, Sir Iames Tirrell, Sir Iohn Windham, and Sir Thomas Green. The issue was; William Courtney was detained Prisoner during the Kings Life: not for that he was Guilty, but, for that, having Relation to the house of Yorke, he might serve as an Instrument, if there should be any designe of Troubling the State. William de la Poole was likewise kept Prisoner though not so strictly: Abergavenny and Greene were set at Liberty: Tirrell and Windham were Beheaded: the rest of inferior quality were Hang'd. This was that Tirrell, who had his hand in the Death of the two Princes that were smo­ther'd in the Tower, by commission from Richard the Third. He came to too good an end; Fire and Torture was not sufficient for him: but he died not for That, 'twas for this Last fault that he suffer'd death. The Earl was grieved at the punishments his Complices under went; and at the Imprisonment of his Friends and Kindred, who were faln into this captivity, not for any Fault of His, or of Themselves: but meerly out of Suspition; for otherwise they should have walked the Same way as did the Rest. The King, that Cursen might be the better beleeved, and that he might the better pursue His Directions, made him, toge­ther with the Earl and Others to be proclamed Traytor at Pauls Crosse; but he having no more to doe in Flanders, returned al­most presently into England; where he was well liked of by the King, but not by the People. Such offices though of Trust, for what concerns the King, are in respect of Others, Detestable. His departure much abated the Earles courage, who now saw he was Betrayed: he therefore endeavour'd to procure helpe from Forraign Princes; he went into Germany; from thence into [Page 230] France: but his Labours proving Vain, he return'd to Flanders, under the protection of the Arch-duke Philip: which was the Last of his Misfortunes.

Many Laws were made in the Parliament, which was this yeer called; and an Entire Subsidy was given unto the King, who had 1504 no Need of it: he being Rich, Frugall, without War; having no cause to Demand it, nor to have it Granted him. Not herewith­all contented, he required a General Benevolence, which brought in Much money unto him; as did also the Alteration of the Mint; for certain coyns: the Citie payed him 5000. Marks for the Con firmation of their Liberties; and Ferdinand paid him Last pay­ment of the Portion: so as all other Casualties, too long to number up, being comprehended, his Extraordinaries did much surmount his Ordinary Revenue; wherewithall his Coffers be­ing fill'd, he might have been contented: whilest his subjects, who wisht him of Another humour, could not alter the Constitution of his Nature.

He was much troubled at the Death of Isabell, Queen of Castile, 1505 which hapned in the moneth of November, the year Before; by reason of the Resemblance that was in the Government of their kingdoms, between Ferdinand and Him; both of them reigning in the right of their Wives. And though he never admitted of his Wives Right (having obtain'd the kingdom under the title of the house of Lancaster, having won it by the Sword, and having it Confirm'd unto him by Act of Parliament) yet he could not but feare, that Ferdinands yeelding up the Crowne to his Daugh ter, might by way of Example prejudice Him, and make for his Sonne Prince Henry: the case was the same, and the formerly alleadged reasons were of no weight, in comparison of Naturall Extraction; which is to be preferred before all other claimes. Isabell left the Administration of the Kingdom to Ferdinand during his life; though Iane were the immediat Heire which distasted the Arch-duke Philip, for being become King of Castile in right of his Wife, he thought hee was injur'd, as being reputed unfit to go­verne without his Father in Laws Assistance, and Superinten­dencie: hee pretended the Mother could not dispose thereof to the Prejudice of the Daughter; that the Authority of Predeces sors ended with their Deaths; else seldome or very Late, would their Heirs come to Reigne: that the Reverence and Respect to Parents, did not amongst Private men, bereave their Children of enjoying their Private Inheritances; much lesse ought it to doe so with Kings, for what concernes Kingdomes: that the govern­ment of Wives, and all that belonged unto Them, belonged to their Husbands, when they were of Yeers, as Hee was; the in­terest of Children that are Heirs, belonging to their Fathers, who are neerer in degree unto them then are their Grand-fathers. He tooke offence at his being Forbidden to come into Spaine, without his Wife, as knowing the cause thereof: for he kept her from the sight of All men, the more to conceale her Infirmity, [Page 231] (which was a spice of Lunacy) so as it was beleeved he would not Bring her along with him, lest her weaknesse being made Knowne, might not give force to the Will: wherefore he re­solved to carry her thither the sooner, pretending to take Pos­session of what Nature, and the Lawes, had given him: for ha­ving married upon hopes of that Kingdome, it would be impu­ted to Rechlesnesse in him, if it now being Falne to him, he should not obtain it. But, Ferdinand, having call'd together the States of Castile, and caused the Will to be read, Ioane was sworn Queen, and Heire to her Mother; Philip was sworne King as her Hus­band; and Ferdinando as Administrator. The Queens disabilities sufficiently appearing, they intreated Ferdinand, that Hee would Govern them as he had done Before; in which respect All the Kingdom concurr'd, except some of the Nobility, who had grea­ter hopes under a New Young King then under an Old and Anci­ent one; who being sufficiently informed of their Humours, knew they were given rather to Tyrannize, then to be contented with Respect from their Inferiours. These Disputes caused great jea­lousies on all sides; specially in Ferdinand: for, Philip following the advise of his Father, the Emperour, hee feared lest if they should happen to corrupt Consalvo (as they had endeavour'd it) they might take from him the Kingdom of Naples: wherefore he recalled 2000 Spaniards from that Garrison, under pretence of sending them into Africa, and making the Germans be dismist, he weakned the forces thereof, that he might have the lesse cause of feare. Amongst divers rumours which were spread abroad to dis­credit him with the Castillians, one was; that he intended to mar­ry Ioane, who was thought to be Daughter to the last King Henry who had beene a Competitresse for the Crowne with his Wife Isabel; that so he would undertake the Defence of Her claime, which formerly he had oppugned, and thereby make himself King of Castile: which he never Dream't of, Tis true; he pretended the claime of a Father, to whom the Guardian-ship of children under Age belongs, of which number though Ioane were none, in respect of Years, yet in respect of her weaknesse, she was to bee accounted one: The very selfe same thing was granted in the Kingdom of Navarre, to Iohn, King of Arragon, this mans Father. The rumour of his intention of marriage was not vaine; for hee Himselfe had caused it to be spread abroad, from the first Begin­ning of the distastes, that he might thereby mortifie Philip; for in case she should have any Sons, he deprived him of all the King­domes wherein He had any Propriety, especially of Naples: Hee pretended likewise to the Kingdome of Granada, or at least to Halfe of it, having gotten it with his Wife. These conceits pro­ceeded from the Dislike hee had, that during the Life of Isabel, Maximilian and Philip should make Peace with the King of France, without His knowledge: & that of the Articles, These were some; The Marriage of Claudia, Daughter to Lewis, with Charles, Philips el­dest Son: the investing of Milaine upon Lewis and his heires male, if [Page 232] he had any; and in case hee should have none, upon Claudia and Charles; and if Charles should happen to Dye, upon Philips second Son, marrying with the same Claudia, so as willing to pay them with the same coyne, hee, not making Them acquainted there­withall, made his Peace with Lewis; who gave unto him for wife, Germana de Fois, his sisters Daughter, and by title of Dowry, re­nouncing unto him that part of the Kingdome of Naples, which belonged unto Him; with this obligation on the other side, that Ferdinand should pay unto Him 700000 Duckets within ten yeers, for the expences he had beene at in that Kingdome, and should give in Dowry to his Wife 300000. more. A busines which in­cens't Philip, and made him undertake his voyage into Spaine.

The first contentions begate both Feare and Hope in Henry: Feare; that the Emperour, Arch duke, and King of France joyn­ing in League together against Ferdinand, hee should not only fall from being Arbitrator between those Princes as till then hee had beene: but also (to boote with the Prejudice that might redound to Him, by their Confederacie) from the advantage of his friend­ship with Arragon, which now being left Single, might be to his disadvantage: Hope; for that intending to marry Ioane, Queene of Naples, Dowager to the last Ferdinand, he beleeved, that Kingdome would be assigned over to Him, as a Feoffee in Trust; whilst the other two were in contention. There were at this time in Naples two Dowager Queens, the Mother and the Daughter; both of them but young. The first, who was sister to Ferdinand King of Arragon, was second Wife to Ferdinand the first, King of Naples; by whom shee had this second Ioane, who was both Wife and Ant to Ferdinand the Second; for she was sister, by the Fa­thers side, to King Alphonso, who was his Father. Hereupon Henry built his Designe. He sent Embassadours, by way of Com­plement, unto them Both; and Katharine, who was Widow to Prince Arthur, being Neece to the One of them, and Cozin to the Other, he gave unto them Letters from Her; giving them particular Instructions to examine the conditions well, and see what, by vertue of such a Match, might be hoped for in that Kingdome: from thence they were to passe into Spaine, as they did. But when they returned, hee gave over that Designe, ha­ving learnt that she lived meerly upon Pensions from Ferdinand, without other Lands or Iurisdictions. The advantage hee got by this Embassie was, to know how hee might keepe the friendship both of Ferdinand and Philip, and to free himselfe from feare of Philips joyning with France, and of the Marriage of Charles, the Sonne of Philip, to the Daughter of Lewis; as was formerly a greed upon; for Ferdinands Secretary had secretly treated with the Embassadours, that the Princesse of France being taken from Charles, contrary to the First capitulation, that she might be mar­ried to the Duke of Angonlesme, heire apparent to the Crowne; their king should give Mary, his Second daughter, for wife to Charles: A busines which hee was much pleased with, for [Page 233] Charles was the Greatest match of Christendome, being to inherit all that his Father, Mother, and Grand-father possest: and to this purpose, he endeavour'd as much as in himlay, that there should be no breach between them in the future. Amongst so many of their relations, he liked not to heare that Castile desired Philip, and detested Ferdinand, by reason of the great Taxes and Impositions which he put upon them; it being his Own very case: so as, up­on the like reason, he thought his Son might be desired and He abhorr'd; the grievances imposed by Him, much surpassing those of Ferdinand.

Those who tooke part with Philip did much importune him to come into Spaine, before Ferdinand should be setled in his preten­ded 1506 Administration; but he desirous to come thither unexpected, took shipping together with his Wife, in Ianuary, when 'twas thought hee would not have tane his journey till the next Sum­mer. He had hardly quitted the coast of Flanders, when, taken by a sodaine tempest his Navy was disperst upon the coast of Eng­land: he himselfe lighted upon Waymouth, and was brought a shore in a little Frigat: His Counsell would not have had him landed, since by losse of Time, hee would misse of his designe of comming unexpected unto Spaine; but he being sea-sick, would by all means come on shore. The great number of his ships had given an Alarme to the Countrey, so as many troops of armed men came to Waymouth, not knowing what his Fleet was, nor what he would doe: Sir Thomas Trenchard, and Sir Iohn Carew, who were their Leaders, understanding the reason of his comming, desired him that he would rest himselfe in Sir Thomas Trenchards house till such time as they might advertise the King of his being there; to which he gave way, being certaine that otherwise they would not have suffered him to depart. When Henry heard hereof, hee sent the Earle of Arundell by way of complement unto him, and to let him know that he Himselfe would presently come and visit him. But Philip, fearing, lest, if he should waite his comming, his stay would be too long, resolved to goe Himselfe to Henry, ma­king his Queene come at leisure after him. He was met six miles from Windsor, by Prince Henry; and One mile from thence, by the King: who received him with all terms of Honour and Friend­ship. He treated with him of the marriage of their Children; and of his owne marrying with Margaret the Dowager of Savoy, Philips sister: he renewed all Confederacies made between them the preceding years which were Then made with him by the name of Arch-duke Philip, Duke of Burgundy; Now, by the name of King of Spaine: they had better successe for the Eng­lish, then had the former, especially in the Fishing-busines; at which the Flemmings were much offended: he with much adoe obtained the person of the Earle of Suffolke, who lived under the protection of Philip; Henry knew so well how to perswade him, by passing his Word he would not put him to Death, that Philip sent for him into Flanders: the one desiring to have him before [Page 234] the other departed; and the other not to depart, till he were ar­rived; that it might be beleeved he had beene Enforced to deli­ver him up. Assoone as the Earle was come and put in the Tower, Philip departed England; and was received in Spaine, without any manner of Resistance; Ferdinand totally quitting the Govern­ment to him: but he enjoy'd it but for a while, for he dyed soone after. The Englishmen will have it that his death was Prognosti­cated by the Fall of a golden Eagle, which standing upon the top of Pauls steeple, was blowne downe by the same wind, which drave him into Waymouth, and brake downe a signe in the Church­yard, wherein was a blacke Eagle. Ferdinand, being call'd for, and entreated by the Kingdome, returned to the Government there­of; this Death of her Husband, having so opprest the fancie of the Queen, his daughter, as she was never after good for any thing: not without suspition, that her Father did not greatly endeavour her Recovery, that so he, of Himselfe, and without Trouble, might manage the Scepter of Spaine.

The Earle of Suffolke being in the Tower, Henry was now freed from all manner of Trouble and Molestation: so as betaking him­selfe to Domesticall affaires, he sent Thomas Wolsey (he who was Cardinall, and of so great Power under Henry the eighth) to Maxi milian, to treat of the marriage with the fore-named Dowager of Savoy: but it tooke no effect by reason of Henrye's indisposition of health which shortly ensued. The marriage of Charles King of Spaine, with Mary, daughter to Henry, stirr'd up some jealousies in Ferdinand: for though He was the first that had mention'd i [...], yet his Sonne in Law being Dead, and Charles being come to the Crowne, he feared he should meet with Two Competitours in the Government; with Maximilian as Grand-father, and Henry as Father in Law; which though neither of them dreamt of, yet did He feare it: but This match had no better effect then had the Other; the tender yeares of the young couple, and the alterati­on of affaires in following times broke it quite off. The expecta­tion hereof, neverthelesse, made Henry live contented the little while he lived: for having married One of his daughters to the King of Scotland, and the Other to the King of Castile, Duke of Burgundy, he thought himselfe more safe, then if his Kingdome had beene compassed about with a wall of Brasse. He, the mean while, began to draw towards his End: the Gout, a disease more Troublesome then Mortall, was the Fore-runner of a Distillati­on, which falling upon his Lungs brought him into a kind of Con­sumption, which perceiving he began to give himselfe totally to Pious Workes.

He set all Prisoners at Liberty, who were in for Debt of not above Forty shillings, hee himselfe paying the Creditours: he 1507 gave Almes in greater measure then he had done formerly: but though hee felt great Remorse at the daily complaints made a­gainst Empson and Dudley, for their Oppressions; yet did hee not seeke to Remedy them. His Conscience and his Covetousnesse [Page 235] wrought contrary effects in him: many for very slight causes were troubled in their Estates and in their Lives: one died in Prison, before his cause was heard; another, being imprisoned for denying to pay what Contrary to the Lawes he was adjudged at, was not let out till Henry the eighths time; and then Empson was put in his place.

To make good the usuall custome of promising obedience to 1508 New Popes, he sent Sir Gilbert Talbot with two other Embassa­dours to Pope Iulius the second, which he had not formerly done, though he were created in November 1503. They prest much for the Canonization of Henry the sixth; but could not obtaine it for the reason formerly given, in the life of Edward the fourth. Be­ing dismist by the Pope, they carried the Garter, and Robes of that Order to Guido Vbaldo, Duke of Vrbin, whose Father, Fre­derick, had likewise had it. This Prince sent into England to be installed for him, according to the Institutions of that Order, the Count Balthasar Castillion, he to whom the noblest Courtiers owe so much.

The finishing of the Hospitall in the Savoy, was one of the last of Henries actions: he would not alter the name of it, this fa­brick having beene, in former times, the habitation of Peter of Savoy, Unckle to Eleanor, the Wife of Henry the third; by whom Peter of Savoy was created Earle of Richmond: but he resigned the Earledome, when Savoy fell, by inheritance to him. The Lan­castrians lived in this house, and King Henry converted it into an Hospitall. Besides this, he built three Monasteries for the Con­ventuall Friers of Saint Francis order, and three for the Obser­vantines of the same order in divers places. When he knew he hee must die he disposed himselfe thereunto. Hee had lived almost all his time in Troubles; but always with prosperous and happy successe: he found the Kingdome involved in Civil wars, he left it in a setled Peace: his subjects, who were impoverisht by the past disorders, were (notwitstanding his Taxations) by reason of his good Government, become Rich: he did not only free the Crowne out of Debt, but left it rich in Treasure; his sonne found in Richmond house, a Million, and eight Hundred Thousand pound sterling; so as he was thought the richest Prince in Europe. He granted out a Generall Pardon; and ordered by his Last Will and Testament, that all such monies should bee Repay'd as had unjustly beene levied by his Officers.

He died at Richmond, the twenty second day of Aprill, in the year of our Lord 1509 and was buried, by his wife, in the sump­tuous 1509 and stately Chapell built by Himselfe, in the Abbey Church at Westminster. He lived two and Fifty years, and Reigned three and Twenty Years, and Eight moneths. The Children which he left behind him, were Henry the Eighth his Heir and successor in the Crown; Margaret, Queen of Scotland, from whom the Kings of Great Britaine doe descend, and the Prince and Prin­cesses of the Electorall house Palatine; and Mary married to Lewis [Page 236] the twelfth, King of France; by whom having no issue, she, after his death, married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolke, by whom she had Henry Earle of Lincolne, and two Daughters, Frances and Eleanor. The Earle dyed without issue in his Fathers life-time: Frances was married to Henry Gray Duke of Suffolk, and by him had the Lady Iane Gray; who being married to Guilford Dudley, sonne to the Duke of Northumberland, and constrained to call her selfe Queene, was beheaded in Queene Maries time: she had by him moreover two Other daughters, Katharine, and Mary; who dyed without issue. Eleanor was married to Henry Clifford, Earle of Cumberland, by whom she had a daughter, named Margaret; who was married to Henry Stanley, Earle of Darby, and had by him two sons; Ferdinando and William: both of them, in succession one of the other, Earles of Darby. Earle William dyed this present yeare 1642. leaving his sonne Iames behind him, to inherit his Ho­nours and his Estate.

The End of the Second and Last volume of the Civil Wars of England, betweene the two Houses of Yorke and Lancaster.
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