A SHORT VIEW OF THE LONG RAIGN OF KING HENRY the third.

WEaried with the lin­gring calamities of Ci­vill Armes, and af­frighted at the sudden fa [...]l of a licentious So­veraigne, all men stood at gaze, expecting the event of their long desires (Peace) and issue of their new hopes (Benefit.) For in every [Page 2] shift of Princes there are few, either so meane, or modest, that please not themselves with some probable ob­ject of preferment. Hist. Mi­nor. Ma [...]. Paris. To satisfie all, a child ascendeth the throne, mild and gracious, but easie of nature, whose Innocency and naturall goodnesse led him safe along the various dangers of his Fathers Raigne: Happy was hee in his Vnkle the Earle of Pem­brooke, the guide of his infancy, and no lesse then for thirty yeares after, whil'st De Burgo, that fast servant of his Fathers against the French, both in Normandy and England, with By god Earle of Norfolke, and others of like gravity and experience did mannage the affaires. Few and no other were the distempers then in State, but such as are incident to all, the Commons greedy of liberty, Matth. Paris. Hist. Ma­jor. and the Nobili [...]y of Rule, and but one violent storme raised by some old and constant fol­lowers of his Father, Fulco de Brent de Fortibus, and others, men that could onely thrive by the Warres, misliking those dayes of sloath (for so they ter­med [Page 3] that calme of King Henries Go­vernment;) and the rather because the Iustice of quiet times urged from them to the lawfull owners, such Lands and Castles, as the fury of Warre had unjustly given them, for finding in the uprightnesse of the King, that power of protection should not bee made a wrong doer, they fell out into that rebellion, that with it, ended their lives and competitours, professing that those their swords that had set the Crowne upon their Soveraignes head, Hist. S. Albani. when neither Majesty nor Law could, should now secure those small pittances to their Maisters, when Ma­jesty or Law would not. Dangerous are too great benefits of Subjects to their Princes, when it maketh the mind onely capable of merit, nothing of duty. No other disquiet did the State after this feele, but such as is in­cident in all, the malice to Authority: Good and great men may secure themselves from guilt, but not from envy: for the greatest in trust of pub­like affaires are still shot at by the [Page 4] aspiring of those that deeme them­selves lesse in imployment then they are in merit. These vapours did ever and easily vanish so long as the helme was guided by temperate Spirits, and the King tied his Actions to the rule of good Councell, and not to young, passionate, or single advise.

Chron. de Dunest [...]o­an. de Wal­lingford.Thirty yeares now passed, and all the old guides of his youth now dead, but De Burgo, (a man in whom no­thing of worth was wanting but mo­deration,) whose length of dayes gi­ving him the advantage of sole pow­er, his owne Ambition and age gave him desire, and Art, to keepe out o­thers, which wrought him into the fatall envy of most, and that encreased in the Title of Earle, and great Of­fices the King then gave him. Time by this, had wrought, as in it selfe, so in the hearts of the people, a Revolu­tion, the afflictions of their Fathers forgotten, and the surfeit of long peace; perchance having let in some abuses; from hence, the Commons to whom dayes present seeme ever [Page 5] worst, commend the foregone ages they never remembred, and con­demne the present, though they knew neither the disease thereof, nor the re­medy.

To these idle and usuall humours, Chron. d [...] Litchfield. fell in some of the yong and noble Spirits, warme and over-weaning (who being as truly ignorant as the rest) first by sullying the wisedome of the present, and greatest Rulers, (making each casuall mishap their er­rours:) seeme to decipher every ble­mish in Government, and then by holding certaine imaginary and fan­tastick formes of Common-wealths, flatter their owne beleefe and ability, that they can mold any State, to these generall rules, which in particular application will prove idle and grosse absurdities.

Next confirmed in their owne worth by Sommery and Spencer, Gua [...] ▪ de Coven. they take it a fit time to worke themselves into action, and imploym [...]nt, a thing they had long desired, and now (though unwilling to seeme so) doe [Page 6] sue for; and doubtlesse, the furthest of their aime was yet, to become quiet instruments in serving the State, if they had beene then held fit and wor­thy.

But the King taught by the new Earle, That Consilia senum hastas ju­venum esse; and that such wits, (for so they would bee stiled) were N [...] ­vandis quàm gerendis rebus aptiores; fitter in being factious to disorder, then to settle affaires, either denied or delayed their desires; for wise Princes will ever choose their In­struments Par negotiis, and not supra, Creatures out of meere election, that are onely theirs, otherwise, without friends or power.

Mat. Pa­ris. Hist. Minor.Amongst this unequall medly, there were of the Nobility, Richard Earle of Pembrooke, Glocester, and Hartford, darlings of the multitude; some for the merit of their Fathers, whose memories they held sacred, as Pillars of publike, liberty and opposers of encroaching Monarchy at Run [...]meed the Armies met. And of the Gentry, [Page 7] Pitz-Geffeory, Bardolph, Grisley, Chron. [...]tri Pecta [...]vien. Maun­sell and Fitz-Iohn, Spirits of as much Acrimony and Arrogant spleene, as the places from whence they were elected, Campe, Court, or Countrey, could afford any: These by force would effect what the other did af­fect by cunning; but all impatient, to see their ends thus frustrate, and that so long as the King followed the di­rection of the Earle of Kent, they had small hope of their desires, they made often meetings; and as one saith of them, Mat. Pa­ris. Clam & nocturnis colloquis aut flexum in vesperum die.

In the end, Sommery and Spencer, two that were farre in opinion with the rest, Gentlemen, by Forraine edu­cation and imployment, more qua­lified then usually men of these times; and that set upon their owne deserts; the best places when the Streame should turne, (which one of them, Spencer, did unworthily obtaine, for he died in actuall Rebellion, Iust [...] ­ciarius Angliae, against his master) advised that the best meanes to re­move [Page 8] that great and good obstacle, the Earle of Kent, out of the way of their advancement, was by sifting in­to his actions, and siding with his opposite. Peter Bishop of Winchester, (an ill man, but gracious with the King) making still their ends, that the worthiest being driven out by the worst, they shall either bee able to mate him with his owne vice, which will bee ever more visible, as hee is more potent, and so remove him at pleasure; or else give over the King to such Ministers, to their bad de­sires, as loosing him the hearts of his people, might smooth them away to their bad desires, Cicero in Cattal. sive Orat. pri­ma. Honores quos quieta Reipublica desperant, perturbata conse­qui se posse arbitrantur. Thus, Counsell heard, approved and put in practice, the corrupt, and ambitious Bishop is easily insnared to their part, by mo­ney and opinion, or increase of pow­er.

Articles are in all hast forged, and urged against the Earle, as sale of Crowne land; wast of the Kings Trea­sure; [Page 9] and lastly, (that which these doubtfull times held capitall) his gi­ving allowance to any thing that might breed a rupture betweene the Soveraigne and the Subjects, as hee had done in making way with the King, to annihilate all Patents gran­ted in his nonage, and enforced the Subject to pay as the record saith, Non juxta singulorum facultat [...]m▪ Lib. Ber­monsey vi­t [...] Ahhatis Albani. sed quicquid Iustitiarius aestimabat.

Well? hee cleared himselfe of all, but the last, and did worthily perish by it; for acts that fill Princes Cof­fers, are ever the ruines of their first Inventers; bad times corrupt good Councels, and make the best Ministers, yeeld to the lust of Princes, there­fore this King cannot passe blame­lesse, that would so easily blemish all former merits, of so good a servant, for that wherein himselfe was chiefe in fault.

But Princes natures are more va­riable, and sooner cloid then others, more transitory their favours, and as their minds are large, so they easily [Page 10] over-looke their first election, tying their affections, no further then their owne satisfactions.

The Bishop now alone manageth the State; chooseth his chiefe instru­ment, Peter de Rivallis, a man like himselfe; displaceth his natives, and draweth Poictions and Brittons into Offices of best trust, and benefit; and the King into an evill opinion of his people. For nothing is more against the nature of the English, then to have Strangers rule over them: of this mans time, Wendover, an Authour then li­ving, saith, Iuditia commutuntur in­justis Leges ex legibus Pax discordan­tibus justitia injuriosis. Thus the plot of the tumultuous Barons went cleare, and had not the discreeter Bishop calmed all by dutifull perswasions, Regis Rof­fen. Annalis de [...]ly. and informing the King that the sup­port of this bold mans power (whose carriage before had lost his Father, Normandy the love of his people, and in that his Crowne) would by teaching the sonne to reject in pas­sion the just petitions of his loyall [Page 11] Subjects, (as of late the Earle of Pem­brooke his Earle Marshall of England the due of his Office) drive all the State into discontent by his bad ad­vise, and corrupt manners, doubtlesse the rebellious Lords had ended this distemper, as their designe was, in a civill Warre.

Denials from Princes must bee sup­plied with gracious usage, that though they cure not the sore; yet they may abate the sence of it; but best it is, that all favours come directly from them­selves; denials and things of bitternesse from their Ministers.

Thus are the Strangers all displaced and banished, Claus. an­no 37. H. 3. M. 26. Chron. Hall. Rivallis extortions ran­sackt, by many strict Commissions of enquiry; the Bishop sent away dis­graced, finds now that Nulla quae sita scelere potentia diuturna; and that in Princes favours there is no subsistance betweene the highest of all, and pre­cipitation. The Lords still frustrate of their malicious ends, beganne to sow of these late grounds of the peo­ples discontent, Querelas & ambiguos [Page 12] de Principe sermones & quo (que) alia tur­bamenta vulgi, and tooke it up a fa­shion to endeare and glorifie them­selves with the sencelesse multitude, by depraving the Kings discretion, and Governement, whose nature too gentle for such insolent Spirits, was forced (as Trevet saith) to seeke as hee presently did, advise and love a­mongst strangers, seeing no desert could purchase it at home, all bore themselves like Tutors and Control­lers, few like Subjects and Councel­lours. God wee see holdeth the hearts of Princes, and sendeth them such Councellours as the quality of the Sub­ject meriteth.

For Mountford a Frenchman be­came the next Object of the Kings delight, Chron. Litchf. a Gentleman of choyce blood, education, Mat. Pa­ris, Roger Wend [...] ­ver. and feature, on this mans content, the heady affection of the Soveraigne did so much Doate, that at his first entrance of Grace, in envy of the Nobility, hee made him Earle of Leycester; and in no lesse offence of the Clergy, by violating the rites [Page 13] of the holy Church, gave him his vowed, vailed sister to wife: More of Art then usually some have dee­med this act of the Kings, making the tye of his dependancy, the strength of his assurance, so both at his will.

Mountford made wanton thus with dalliance of his Master, Chron. Ioan. Sul­grave. for­getteth moderation, for seldome discretion in youth attendeth great and suddaine fortunes, hee draweth all publike affaires into his owne hands, all favours must passe from him, all preferments by him, all suites ad­dressed to him, the King but as a ci­pher set to adde to this figure, the more of number. Great is the Soveraignes errour, when the hope of Subjects must recognize it selfe beholden to the servant, which ought immediate­ly to bee acknowledged, from the goodnesse and good election of him­selfe: Though Princes may take above others some reposefull friend, with whom they may participate their nee­rest passions; yet ought they so to tem­per [Page 14] the affaires of their favour, that they corrupt not the effects of their principalities.

At this the great and gravest men began to grieve, knowing the unwor­thy without honour, or merit, thus to deale alone in that which should passe through their hands, and to leape over all their heads, to the greatest Honour and Offices, and therefore runne along with the then rising grace of the Kings halfe brethren, (though strangers) hoping thereby to devide that power, which o­therwise they saw impossible to breake.

Chron. Re [...]ding. Leycester confident of his Masters love, and impatient to beare either rivall in favour, or partner in rule, op­poseth them all, but findeth in his ebbe of favour, the Fortune of others, and that this King could ever as easily transferre his fancy, as hee had setled his affection. Great wee see must bee the art and cunning of that man, that keepes himselfe a sloate in the streame of Soveraignes favour, since the [Page 15] change of Princes wils, which for the most part are full of fancy and soone satiate are hardly arrested: Who so would effect this▪ must onely attend the honour and service of his Master, and dispoiled of all other respects, transforme himselfe into his inward inclination and worke into necessity of imployment, by undergoing the Of­fices of most secrecy, either of publick service, or Princes pleasures; hee must also beate downe Competitours of worth by the hands of others, con­ceale his owne greatnesse in publick, with a fained humility, and what im­potency or Government hee affecteth, let it rather seeme the worke of o­thers, out of conveniency, then any ap­petite of his owne.

Now were the raines of rule, by this advantage, H. Knigh­ton. Moh. Leycest. taken by the rebellious Lords, and put alone into the hands of the Kings halfe brethren: Adam, Guido, Godfray, and William, himselfe as before; Et magna Fortu [...]a licentiam tantum usurpans: For to act his owne part, hee was ever wier-drawne when [Page 16] he had such worthy servants as would often for his Honour urge it. For these Masters, (as Wallingford termeth them) Tanta ela [...]i jactantia quod nec sup riorem sibi intelligunt, nec parem mellitis & mollitis adulationibus ani­mum Regis pro libito voluntatis â ra­tione tramite declinantes; doe alone what they list. They fill up the place of Iustice and Trust, with their Coun­trey-men, strangers exact of whom, how, and what they please, wast the Treasure and Crowne lands on them­selves, and their followers; set prices on all offences, and raine the Law within the rule of their owne Breasts. Wil. de Risharger. The usuall reply of their servants, to the plaints of the Kings Subjects, be­ing Quis tibi rectum saciet? Dominus rex vult; quod Dominus meus vult; these Strangers seemed in their Law­lesse carriage not to have beene in­vited, Lib. Mo­nastery Rams [...]y. but to have entred the state by Conquest: The great men they en­forced not to obey, but to serve, and the meane to live so as they might justly say, they had nothing; yet least [Page 17] the King should heare the groanes of his people, and the wickednesse of his Ministers, which good and able men would tell him, they barre all such ac­cesse: Suspition being the best pre­server of her owne deserts; aimeth at these, who hath more of vertue then themselves, as fearing them most. Thus is the incapacity of Go­vernment in a King, when it fals to bee a prey to such Lawlesse Minions, the ground of infinite corruption in all the members of the State; all take warrant gener [...]lly from Princes weakenesses, of licentious liberty and greatnesse, makes profit parti­cularly by it, and therefore give way to encrease ill, to encrease their gaines.

A Famine accompanieth these corruptions, and that so violent, Claus. an­no 42. Hen. 3. that the King is enforced to direct Writes to all the Shires, Ad pauperes mortuos sepelicendos famis media deficientes: Chro. Lon­don. Fa­mine proceeds, Fames praecessit & se­cutus est gladius tam terribilis ut n [...] ­mo inermis secura possit, Provincias per­agare: [Page 18] For all the Villages of the Kingdome were left a prey to the lawlesse Multitude: Who Per diversas partes itinerantes velut per Consentum aliorum, (as the Record saith) did im­ply that the factious Lords suspe­cted by the King, had given some heat to that commotion; Seditious Peeres bringing ever fewell to such popular fires.

Neither was the Church without a busie part in this Tragick worke; Wil. de Risharger. for Walter Bishop of Worcester, and Ro­bert of Lincolne, to whom Mount­ford and his faction, Prae cordialiter adhaerebant were farre ingaged. In such designes, Church-men are never wanting, and the distast of the present Government, (as well in the Church as in the Common-wealth) will ever bee a knot of strength for such unquiet Spirits, who as well frame to them­selves some other forme of Govern­ment; then the present in the Church, as in the temporall state, as that which with the giddy multitude win­neth best opinion, and did at this time [Page 19] fitly suite the peoples humours, so much distasting the new Courts of the Clergy, their pompe, their greedinesse, and the Popes extortions.

A faire pretext was it to those fa­ctious Bishops, to use their bitter pens and speeches, so farre against Reli­gious Orders, Ceremonies, and State of the Church, that one of them in­curred the sentence of Excommu­nication at Rome, and Treason at home; for hee enjoyned the Earle of Leycester, Mat. Pa­ris. In remissione peccatorum ut causam illam (meaning his Rebelli­ons) usque ad mortem assumeret, asse­rens pacem Ecclesiae Auglicanae nun­quam sine gladio materiali posse firma­ri. Wil. de Risharger. It was not the best Doctrine that this man could plant, by liberty or warre, when the first Church rose by fasting and prayer.

True Piety binds the Subject to desire a good Soveraigne, but to beare with a bad one, and to take up the burthen of Princes with a bended knee, rather in time so to deserve abate­ment, then resist authority.

[Page 20]Church-men therefore ought not alwayes to leade us in the rule of Loyalty, but a knowledge of our owne duties, in difficult points of Religion, where an humble ignorance, is a safe and secure knowledge, wee may rely upon them.

To suppresse these troubles, and sup­ply the Kings extremity, a Parliament was called, Barth. Co­ron. much to the liking of those Lords▪ who as little meant to releeve the King, as they did to ac­quiet the State, Chron. Norwic. Chron. Worc. their end at that time being onely to open at home the po­verty of their Master, to lessen his re­putation abroad, and to brave out their owne passions freely, whil'st those times of liberty permit.

Here they began to tell him hee had wronged the publick State, in taking to his private election the Iustice, Chancellour, M. Paris. and Treasurer, that should bee onely by the Common Councell of the Realme, commen­ding much the Bishop of Chicester, Wendo­ver. for denying delivery of the great Seale, but in Parliament where he received it.

[Page 21]They blame him to have bestowed the best places of trust▪ Walling­ford. and benefit in his gift on Strangers, and to leave the English unrewarded, Paris. to have undone the trade of Merchants, by bringing in Maltolts and heavy customes, Wil de Risharger. and to have hurt the Common liberty, by non obstantes in his Parents, to make good Monopolies for private favo­rites.

That hee hath taken from his Sub­jects. Chron. S. Albani. Quicquid habuerunt in esculentis & poculentis Rust [...]coruin enim [...]ques bigas vina victualia ad libitum cae­pit.

That his Iudges were sent in cir­cuites, under pretext of Iustice, to fleece the people, Causis fictitiis quas­cunque poterant diripuerunt.

And that Sir Robert de Purslowe had wrong from the Borderers of his Forrest, under pretence of en­ [...]rochments or assarts, great summes of money.

And therefore, they wonder, that hee should now demand reliefe from his so pilled and polled Commons, Gual▪ de Covenary▪ [Page 22] who by their former extremities; Et per auxilia priu [...] data ita depa [...] ­perantur, ut nihil aut parum habeant in bonis. And therefore advised him, that since his needlesse expence, Post­quam regni caepit esse dilapidatur, Wil de Risharger. was summed up by them to above 800000. l. It were fitting to pull from his favorites, who had gleaned the Treasure of his Kingdome, and shared the old Lands of the Crowne, seeing one of them there, whom the Lords described to bee Miles litte­ratus, or Clericus militaris, who had in short space from the inheritance of an acre, Chron. Litchf. growne to the Possession of an Earledome; and Mansel ano­ther inferiour Clarke that (besides 50. promotions with the cure of soules) rose to dispend in annuall revenue 4000. markes, Hist. Mi­nor. Wil. de Risharger. Epist. Ro­bert. Lin­colne. whereas more mo­derate Fees would have become a pen-man, no better quallified then with the ordinary fruits of a writing Schoole; yet if a moderate supply would suite with the Kings occasions, they were content to performe so [Page 23] farre reliefe in Obedience, as the de­sert of his carriage should merrit to­ward them: And so as the Record saith, Matth. Paris. Dies datur suit in tres septima­nas ut interim Rex excessuos suos cor­rigeret, & Magnates voluntati ejus ob­temperarent.

At which day upon new grant of the great Charter, Regis Rof­fen. admittance to his Councell of some persons elected by the Commons, and promise to rely upon his Natives, and not Strangers; Iohan. de Walling­ford. for advise hereafter; they spare him such a pittance as must tie him to their Devotion, for a new sup­ply.

Thus Parliaments that before were ever a medicine to heale up any rup­ture in Princes fortunes, are now growne worse then the mallady, sith from thence more malignant humours beganne to raigne in them, then well composed tempers.

The King by this, experienced of the intents of his rebellious Lords, Chron. de Litchf. and finding that the want of Treasure was the way whereby they inthralled [Page 24] his Majesty, begins now to play the good husband closeth his hand of wast, and resolves himselfe (too late) to stand alone, such experience is per­nitious to the private, and dangerous to the publique good of a State, when it never learnes to doe, but by un­doing, and never sees order, but when disorder shewes it. Yet still▪ alas, such was his flexibility, when hee came to bee pressed by his French Minions, that hee could not hold his hand any longer, from their vast desires, and endlesse wast. So that an Authour then living, saith, it became a by­word, Our inheritance is converted to Allien [...], and our houses to Strangers. Followers to a King excessive in guifts, are excessive in demands, and cut them not out by reason, but by example: Favours p [...]st are not accomp­ted, wee love no bounty but what is meerely future; the more that a Prince weakeneth himselfe in giving, the poorer hee is of friends: For such pro­digality in a Soveraigne, ever ends in the rapine and spoile of his Subjects.

[Page 25]Yet before the King would againe submit himselfe, as hee had the last Parliament, to so many brave and strict inquiries of his disloy [...]ll Sub­jects, hee meaneth to passe through all the shifts, that extremity of need, with greatnesse of mind could lay up­on him. Hee beginneth first with sale of Lands, and then of Iewels, Claus an­no 46. & 47. Hen. 3. pawneth Gascoyne, and after that, his Imperiall Crowne, and when hee had neither credit to borrow, (having so often failed, the trust hee had made, Claus▪ an­no 37. Hen. 3.) nor pawnes of his owne, hee then layeth to pawne the Iewels and Ornaments of St. Edwards Shrine; and in the end, not having meanes to defray the diet of his Court, was enforced to breake up house, (and as Paris saith) with his Queene and Children, Cum Abbatibus & Prioribus satis humil [...]ter Hospitia qua sivit & prandia.

This low ebbe, which againe the Kings improvidence had brought him to, gave great assurance to the Rebellious Lords, that they should now at the last, have the Soveraigne [Page 26] power, left a prey to their ambi­tious designes, and to bring it fa­ster on, they desire nothing more, then to see the Kings extremi­ty. Constraine a Parliament, for at such times, Princes are ever lesse then they should bee, Subjects more.

Wil. de Rishanger.To hasten on the time, and adapt the meanes, there are sowne cer­taine seditious rumours, that the Kings necessity must repaire it selfe upon the fortunes and blessings of his people, that having no­thing of his owne left, hee might and meant to take of others: For Kings may not want, as long as the Subjects have meanes to sup­ply.

This tooke fire just to their minds, and wrought a little mo­ving in the State, which doubt­lesse had flamed higher, if the King had not asswaged it by Proclama­tions, wherein hee declared, Quod qui­dam malivoli sinistra praedicantes, Claus. an­no 9. [...]ib. 3. illis falso suggesserant, illum velle eos indebite [Page 27] gravari, ac jura & liber [...]atos Regni subvertere, & per suggestiones illas do­losas & omnina falsas eorum corda à sua maledictione, & fidelitate averte­rent, but desireth, that, Hujusmodi ani­morum suorum perturbationibus ne fi­nem adhiberent; for that hee was ever ready to defend them from the op­pression of the great Lords, Et om­nia jura & consuetudinis eorum debitas bonas, & consuetas, in omnibus & per omnia ple [...]ius observare, and that they may rest of this secure: D [...] volun [...]a [...]e sua libera litteras suas f [...]cit patentes. But seeing still, that Majesty and right subsist not without meanes and pow­er, and himselfe had of neither, so much as would stop the present breach in his owne wants, or his Sub­jects loyalties, hee flieth to the bo­some of his people, for reliefe and Councell.

At Oxford they met in Parliament, Parl. Ox [...]on. where his necessity, met so many undutifull demands, that hee was for­ced to render up to their Rebellious will, his Royall power.

[Page 28]Heere the Commons knowing that, Quum elegere inceperunt, they were Loco libertatis, stood with the King to have the managing of the State, Matth. Paris. Chron. Worc. put to the care of twenty foure, whereof twelve by their election, (whereto they looke strictly) and the other by him, who in all things else, was left a Cipher, and in this, whe­ther by feare, or remissenes, filled up his number with Mountford, Chron. Lit [...]hf. Gloce­ster, and Spencer, which besides the weakening of his owne part, wonne to those his late opposites, an opinion of great interest they had got in his favour, hee now hath left neither ele­ction of publick office, nor private attendants, his halfe brethren and their followers, hee must dispoile of all for­tune, and exile by prescription under his owne hand, commanding his writs, Pro transportatione fratrum suo­rum, to bee directed to the Earles of Hartford and Surrey, and not to passe either their Money, Armes, or Orna­ments, Nisi in forma quàm dicti Comi­tes injunxerent, and after their depar­ture [Page 29] enjoyned the men of Bristoll, Claus. a [...]no 49. Hen. 3. that they should not permit any Stran­gers, Sive propinquos Regis applicare in portu, but so to behave themselves therein, that as well the King, Quàm Magates sui eos merito d [...]beant c [...]mm [...]n­dare.

Thus wee see, how easily mens estates doe change in a moment, and how hard it is to make use of all things ill gotten.

Richard elect of the Empire, the Kings full brother, and then beyond Sea, must bee wrought by letter, as his free desire to confirme by oath those former restrictions of regall power; Chron. S. Albani. which though performed, yet would the Lords suffer neither the one or the other, to enter Dover Castle (the key of the Kingdome) which they had furnished, Regis Rof­fen. as most of the other Fortes of reputation in the Realme with Guardians of their owne, sworne respectively to the State; and then taking the like assurance of all the Shrieffes, Bailiffes, Coroners, and o­ther publick Ministers, searching the [Page 30] behaviour of many by strict Com­mission upon oath, Rot. in Scrio. Wil. de Rishanger. to winne opinion in shew among the Vulgar, who groaned under their late Extortions, whereas their end was truly, as it after proved, by displacing the faithfull servants of the King, to open a way, to their owne depen­dants.

Thus changing sole power into the rule of many, and those by popu­lar election, made the State beleeve, that this forme of limited policy, they had utterly suppressed the mind of man, for ever dreaming more up­on the imaginary humours of licen­cious Soveraignty: But it fell out nothing so, for now every man be­ganne to estimate his owne worth, and to hammer his head on every de­signe, that might enlarge his power and command.

Then beganne the great men to rent from the body of the Crownes, and regall Signiories, all such royall Suitours as neighboured any of their owne seats, Scacar. whereto they enforce their [Page 31] service, and so (as the Record saith) Ad sectas indebitas, & servitutes intollera­b [...]les subditos Regis compulerunt: Thus raising meane manners to become great Honours, and renting a sunder the regall Iustice, they made them­selves of so many Subjects whil'st they lived in duty, Totid [...]m Tiranni (as the booke of Saint Albans saith) when they had left their loyalty, Magnas induxerunt Magnates Reg­ni, Rot. [...]egi [...] in Sc [...]a. 56. H. 3. super subditos Regis servitutes & op­pressiones, which they bore patiently; for excesse of misery having no ease but Custome, made men willing to lay the foundation of servitude by the length of sufferance, which found no ease or end, untill the quiet of this Kings raigne.

Mountford, Glocester, and Dispen­cer, Walling­ford. the heads of this Rebellious de­signe, having by the late provisions drawne to the hands of the twenty foure Tribunes, of the people, the en­tire mannaging of the Royall State, and finding that power too much di [...]perced, to worke the end of their [Page 32] desires, forst againe the King to call a Parliament, where they delivered over the authority of the twenty foure unto themselves, and create a Trium­virate, Wil. de Risha [...]ger. non constituenda Republicae cau­sa, as they first pretended, for their owne ends, Chron. de Dunst. and so in the interest of some private contented, the publike was stayed; but to make a speedier way to one of them as it fatally did, to become Dictator perpetuus: Ambi­tion is never so high, but shee thinkes still to mount, that station which seemed lately the top, is but a step to her now, and what before was great in desiring, seemes little being once in power.

These three, elect nine Councel­lours, and appoint, Quod tres ad minus alternatim semper in curia sint, Ord [...]at. inter Rec. Lond. to dispose of the custody of Castles▪ Et de aliis Regni negotiis, the chiefe Iu­stice, Chancellour, and Treasurer, with all offices▪ Majores & minores, they reserve the choyce of to themselves, and bind the King to this hard bar­gaine upon such strong security▪ that [Page 33] hee is contented under the great Seale, and Oath, to loose to them the knot of Regall duty, whensoever hee assu­meth to himselfe his Regall dignity, Liceat omnibus de Regno nostro contra nos, Chron. O­rigin. sub [...]gillo. in surgere & ad gravamen nostrum opem & operam dare at si nobis in nullo tenerentur. This prodigy of fortune of whom shee had set a pittifull exam­ple of her inconstancy▪ finding no part of his Soveraignty left, but the bare Title, and that at their leave, beggeth succour from Vrbane the fourth, a­gainst his disloyall Subjects.

The Pope by his Bull cancelleth his Oath, and contract, and armed him with Excommunications against all those that returne not with speed, to their due and old obedience, since promises made by men, which cannot say they are at liberty, are weake, and force hath no power to make just in­terest.

The Lords on the other side, Chron. Luchf. Wil. d [...] Risha [...]ge [...] that had imped their wings with Eagles feathers, and liked no game now, but what was raked out of [...]he ashes of [Page 34] Monarchy, made head against their Soveraigne, and to mate him the bet­ter, called in aid, some French forces: Thus the Common-wealth turned a­gaine her sword into her owne bow­els, Chr. Bri­tanniae. and invited her ancient Enemy, to the funerall of her liberty, so that it was a wonder, shee should not at this time passe under a forraine servitude. Chron. Dunst. And though these men were more truly sensible of their owne disgrace, then of others misery: Yet found they no better pretext for private interest then that of the publick.

And therefore at the entry of this Warre, they cried liberty, although when they came neere to an end, they never spake word of it.

At Lewis the Armies met, where the King endeavours a reconciliation, but in vaine, Wil. de Risharger. for perswasions are ever unprofitable, when Iustice is inferiour to force.

The sword decides the difference, and gave the two Kings, and their eldest Sonnes Prisoners. The person now as well as the regall power, thus [Page 35] in the hands of Mountford and Gloce­ster, found neither bound of security, nor expectation of liberty, but what the emulous competition of great­nesse (which now beganne to breake out betweene these mighty Rivals,) gave hope of, for Leycester meaning by ingrossing from his partner, to himselfe, the person of the King, and to his followers the best portion of the spoile, to draw more fruit from this advantage, then it should in fel­lowship yeeld, dissolved the knot of all their amity.

Thus equall Authority with the same power, is ever fatall (wee see) to all great actions: For to fit minds to so even a temper, that they should not have some motions of dissenting is impossible.

Mountford having thus broken all faith with his confederates, and duty to his Soveraigne, left the path of moderation and wisedome, to come to the King, by that of pride and di­strust. To him, he telleth, that his armes and ends had no other object ever [Page 36] but order of the State, and ease of the people, that hee did not in this, car­ry affection against duty, but well knew how to reine his desires, to his just power, and so no lesse to his Ma­jesties content, if hee would bee ru­led; which was to command the Fortes and Castles of his now oppo­site Glocester, and the rest into his hands. It was hard to this King thus to take a Law from his inferiour, but necessity in Soveraigne affaires doth often force away all formality; and therefore this poore Prince, who now at the Victors discretion, see­med to have beene onely raised to shew the inconstancy of fortune and vanity of man, suited himselfe with incomparable wisedome according to the necessity of the time; Neither did humility wrong Majesty, when there was no other meanes to con­taine Spirits so insolent, but dissem­bling. Hee therefore summoneth in his owne person the forts of his fastest friends, to yeeld to his greatest ene­mies. This hee enters in shew as his [Page 37] lodging, but in effect his prison, and saw himselfe forced to arme against his friends, and to receive now Law from him, to whom hee lately thought to give it. Thus Leycester is become a darling of the Common rout, who easily change to every new Master, but the best durst not saile along his fortune, by the light of his glory: Christall that fairely glistereth doth easily breake, and as the ascent of usur­ping royalty is slippery, so the top is shaking, and the fall fearefull. To hold this man then at the entry of his false felicity fully happy, was but to give the name of the Image, to the mettle that was not yet molten, for by this, the imprisoned Prince was escaped, and fast assured of Glocester, by the knot of his great mind, and discontent, and both with the torne remainder of the loyall Army united, and by speedy march arrived unloo­ked for, neere Evesham, to the unar­med troupes of the secure Rebels, whom they instantly assailed, for it was no fit season to give time, when [Page 38] no time did assure so much, as expedi­tion did promise.

Dispencer and other Lords of that faction, made towards the King, with the best speed for mercy, but could not breake out, being hurried a­long the storme of the giddy multi­tude.

Publick motions depends on the conduct of Fortune; private on our owne carriage, we must be­ware of running downe steep hils, with weighty bodies, they once in motion, Suo feruntur pond [...]re, stops are not then voluntary; but Leycester at that instant with the King, and out of the storme might have escaped, if his courage and hope had not made him more resolute by misfortune, so that hee could neither forsake his followers, nor his ambition; thus making adver­sity the exercise of his vertue, hee came and fell.

The King by the blessed For­tune freed, and obeyed, beganne to search the ground of his former [Page 39] misery, and why that Vertue and Fortune that had so long setled and maintained under his Ancestors the glory of his Empire, had cast her in his time off, and conspired with her Enemies, to her almost ruine, as if the Genius of the state had quite forsooke her; Here hee finds his wastfull hand had beene too quick, both over the fortunes and the blessings of his People, th [...] griping Avarice of his Civill Mini­sters and lawlesse liberty of his Martiall followers, Rot. part. 53. H. 3. M. 51. Rishanger. the neglect of grace, and breach of his word, to have lost his Nobility at home, and ne­cessity, his Reputation abroad, by making Merchandize of peace, and warre, as his last refuge; so leaving his old Allies became enforced to betake himselfe to persons doubtfull, or in­jured, and that by giving over him­selfe to a sensuall security and re­ferring all to base greedy and un­worthy Ministers, whose Councels were ever more subtle then substan­tiall, hee had throwne downe those [Page 40] pillars of soveraignety, and safety, Re­putation abroad, and Reverence at home.

Io. Tuxe­ter, Mon. Bury.Hee now therefore making sweet­nesse and clemency the entrances of his regained Rule for the faults of most of the late Rebels hee forgot, a gracious kind of pardoning, not to take knowledge of offences, others hee forgot, that they might live but to the glory of his goodnesse, Rot. Cart. 51.52. Hen. 3. for the fewer killed, the more remaines to adorne the Trophee.

Tyrants shed bloud for pleasure, Kings for necessity, yet least his Iu­stice and power might too much suf­fer in his grace and mercy, some few hee punished by small fines, Claus. 52. H. 3. M. 29. some by banishment, as the two guiltlesse, yet unpittied Sonnes of the Arch-trai­tour. Treason so hatefull is to the head, that it draweth (wee see in this,) the carriage of the innocent children into an everlasting suspect, and what is suspition in others is guilt in them: Vpon the constant followers of his broken fortunes hee bestowed, but [Page 41] with a more wary hand then before the forfeiture of his enemies: Immo­derate liberality hee had found but a weake meanes to winne love, for it lost more in the gathering then it gai­ned in the giving. This bounty be­stowed without respect, was taken without grace▪ discredited the recei­ver and detracteth from the judge­ment of the giver, and blunted the appetites of such, as carried their hopes out of vertue and service: Thus at last, Chron. Dunst. hee learned that reward and reprehension justly laid, doe ballance Government, and that it much im­porteth a Prince, the hand to bee e­quall that holdeth the scale.

In himselfe, hee reformed his na­turall errours, Princes manners, though a mute Law have more of life and vigour then those of letters, and though hee did sometimes touch upon the verge of vice, hee forbore ever after to enter the circle.

His court wherein at this time, the [...]aults of great men did not onely by [...]pprobation, but Imitation receive [Page 42] true comfort, and authority; for their crimes now became examples, and customes, hee purged very judiciously and severely, since from thence pro­ceeds either the regular or irregular condition of the Common state.

Expence of house hee measureth by the just Rule of his proper reve­new, Ordinat. author. Reg. aulae. Glaus. 53. Hen. 3. Rishanger. and was heard often to say, that his excesse of wast before had beene an issue of his Subjects bloud, the in­solency of his Souldiers made law­lesse by the late liberties of Civill armes, hee spendeth in forraigne ex­pedition. Having seene that the quiet Spirits underwent all the former Ca­lamities, and the other never were sa­tisfied but in the misery of Innocents, and would, if they had no enemies abroad seeke out at home, as they had done before.

The rigour and corruption of his judiciall Officers hee examineth, Pat. 53. & 54. Hen. 3. Comment. de Trail. b [...]ston. and redresseth by strict Commis­sion; For the sence of their severi­ty, became a murmure of his owne cruelty.

[Page 43]The seats of Iudgement and Coun­cell, hee filled up with men nobly borne. For such attract with l [...]sse of­fence, the Generous spirits to respect and reverence. Their Abilities hee measureth not by favour, or by Private Information, as before, but by publike voice, for every man in particular may deceive and bee deceived, but no man can deceive all, nor all one.

And to discover now his owne Capacity, and what part hee meaneth to beare hereafter in all deliberate Expeditions, hee sitteth himselfe in Councell dayly, and disposeth affaires of most weight in his owne person. For Councellours bee they never so wise or worthy, are but as accessa­ries, not principals, in sustentation of the State; their Office must bee subjection, not fellowship, in con­siderations of moment, and to have ability to advise, not authority to re­solve.

For as to live, the Prince must have a particular soule so to rule his [Page 44] proper and interne Councell; without the one hee can never bee truly man, without the other, hee shall never bee securely a Prince; for it offendeth as well the Minister of (merit) as the people to force obedience to one un­capable of his owne greatnesse, or un­worthy of his fortunes. This won­derfull change to the generall State (so hopelesse lately to recover her former liberty, they sought now for nothing but the mildest servitude) brought them home againe with ad­miration to his devotion and their owne duty.

Hee that will lay (wee see) the foundation of greatnesse upon popu­lar love, must give them ease and Iu­stice, for they measure the bond of their obedience, by the good alwayes that they receive.

Barth. Co­ [...]on. Chron. Norwic.This peace attended ever after his age and hearse, and hee happily li­ved to fashion his Sonne and Suc­cessour, and to make him Partner of his owne experience and authority; whose owne hard education training [Page 45] him from that intemperance, which makes men inferiour to beasts: framed him to affect glory, and vertue▪ which made him superiour to men. So that all the Actions of his future Raigne were exact grounds of Discipline, and Policy; for his best successour to rule by after, who as hee was the first of his name since the Conquest, so was hee the first that setled the Law and State, deserving the Stile of Englands Iustinian, and freed this Kingdome from the wardship of the Peeres, shewing himselfe in all his Actions after, capable to Command not the Realme onely, but the whole World.

Thus doe the wrongs of our Ene­mies more then our owne discretions, make us sometimes both wise and for­ [...]unate.

THE HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND RAIGNE OF KING HENRY the fourth.

THe Noble and victorious Prince, King Edward the third, had his fortunate gift of a long and prospe­rous raigne over this Realme of Eng­land, much strengthened and adorned, by natures supply of seven goodly Sonnes. Edward his eldest Sonne, Prince of Wales, commonly called the [Page 2] Black Prince: William of Hatfield: Lyonel ▪ Duke of Clarence: Iohn of Gaunt, Duke of Lanca [...]er: Edmund of Langley, Duke of Yorke: Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester: and William of Windsore. These Sonnes, during the life of their renowned Fa­ther, were such ornaments and such stayes to his estate, as it seemed, no greater could bee annexed thereunto. For neither armies, nor strong holds are so great defences to a Prince as the multitude of children: Fortes may de­cay, and forces decrease, and both de­cline and fall away, either by variety of fortune, or inconstancy of mens desires: but a mans owne bloud clea­veth close unto him; not so much in the blisses of prosperity, which are e­qually imparted to others, as in the Crosses of calamity, which touch none so neere, as those that are neerest by nature. But in succeeding times, they became in their off-spring, the semi­nary of division and discord, to the utter ruine of their families, and great wast and weakening of the whole [Page 3] Realme: for they that have equall dig­nity of birth and bloud, can hardly stoope to termes of soveraignty, but upon every offer of occasion will aspire to endure, rather no equall then any superiour, and for the most part, the hatred of those that are neerest in kind, is most dispitefull and deadly if it once breake forth. The feare of this humour caused Romulus, to im­brew the foundations o [...] the City and Empire of Rome ▪ with the bloud of his brother Remus. According to which example, the Tyrants of Turkie, those butchers of Sathan, doe com­monly at this day begin their raigne, with the death and slaughter of all their brethren

Prince Edward the thunderbolt of Warre in his time, dyed during the life of his fa [...]her. And although, hee was cut off in the middle course, and principall strength of his age, yet in respect of honour and fame, hee lived with the longest, having in all parts fulfilled the measure of true Nobility. Hee left behind him a young Sonne [Page 4] called Richard, who after the death of King Edward, was crowned King in his stead, and afterward dyed child­lesse.

William of Hatfield King Edwards second Sonne, dyed also without issue, leaving no other memory of his name, but the mention onely.

Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third Sonne of King Edward, was a man of comely personage, of speech and pace stately, in other qualities of a middle temperature, neither to bee admitted nor contemned, as rather void of ill parts, then furnished with good. Hee had issue Philip his onely Daughter, who was joyned in marriage to Ed­mund Mortimer, Earle of March: Who in the Parliament holden in the eight yeare of the raigne of King Richard, was in the right of his Wife, declared Heire apparant to the Crowne, in case the King should die without Chil­dren; but not many yeares after hee dyed, leaving issue by the said Philip, Roger Mortimer Earle of March. This Roger was slaine in the rude and [Page 5] tumultuous Warres of Ireland, and had issue Edmund, Anne, and Elinor, Edmund and Elinor died without issue. Anne was married to Richard Earle of Cambridge, Sonne to Edmund of Langley Duke of Yorke, the fift Sonne of King Edward. Of these two came Richard Plantagenet Duke of Yorke: who by the right devolved to [...]im from his Mother, made open [...]laime to the Crowne of England, [...]which was then possessed by the fa­ [...]ily of Lancaster) first by Law, in the [...]arliament holden the thirtieth yeare [...]f the Raigne of King Henry the sixt: where either by right or by favour, [...]is cause had such furtherance, that af­ [...]er King Henry should die, the Crown [...]as entailed to him, and to the Heires [...] his bloud for ever. But the Duke [...]patient to linger in hope, chose ra­ [...]er to endure any danger, then such [...]: Whereupon hee entred into [...] soone after, against King Henry [...] the field. But being carried further [...] courage, then by force, hee could [...] through, hee was slaine at the [Page 6] battaile of Wakefield, and left his title to Edward his eldest Sonne: who with invincible persistance did prosecute the enterprise, and after great variety of fortune at the last atchieved it.

Iohn of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, the fourth Sonne of King Edward the third, was a man of high and hardy Spirit, but his fortune was many times not answerable, either to his force or to his forecast. Hee had two Sonnes Henry Earle of Derby (of whom I suppose chiefly to treat) and Iohn Earle of Somerset. This Iohn was Fa­ther to Iohn Duke of Somerset, who had issue Margaret, Countesse of Richmond mother to the Noble Prince, Henry the seventh.

Henry Plantagen [...]t Earle of Derby was likewise by his Mother Blanch, extracted from the bloud of Kings, being discended from Edmund, the second Sonne of King Henry ▪ the third: by which line, the Dutchy o [...] Lancaster did accreve unto his house. Hee was a man of meane stature, well proportioned, and formally com­pact, [Page 7] of good strength and agility of body, skilfull in armes, and of a ready dispatch: joyntly shewing himselfe both earnest and advised in all his actions. Hee was quick and present in conceit, forward in attempt, coura­gious in execution, and most times fortunate in event. There was no great place of imployment and charge, which hee would not rather affect for glory, then refuse either for perill, or for paines; and in service hee often proved himselfe not onely a skilfull Commander by giving dire­ctions: but also a good Souldier in u­sing his weapon, adventuring further in person sometimes, then policy would permit; his expences were li­berall and honourable, yet not excee­ding the measure of his receipts; hee was very courteous and familiar re­spectively towards all men▪ whereby hee procured great reputation and regard, especially with those of the meaner sort: for high humilities take such deepe roote in the mindes of the multitude, that they are more [Page 8] strongly drawne by unprofitable cur­tesies then by churlish benefits. In all the changes of his estate, hee was al­most one and the same man: in adver­sity never daunted, in prosperity never secure: retaining still his Majesty in the one, and his mildnesse in the other: neither did the continuance of his raigne bring him to a proud po [...]t and stately esteeming of himselfe, but in his latter yeares hee remained so gen­tle and faire in carriage, that thereby chiefely hee did weare out the hatred that was borne him, for the death of King Richard. Hee could not lightly bee drawne into any cause, and was stiffe and constant in a good: Yet more easie to bee either corrupted or abused by flattering speeches, then to bee terrified by threats. To some men hee seemed too greedy of glory, making small difference of the meanes whereby hee attained it: and indeed this honour in noble minds is▪ most hardly over-ruled, and oftentimes it draweth even the wisest awry. But before I proceed any further in descri­bing [Page 9] either the qualities, or acts of this Earle, I must write something of the Raigne of King Richard the second, his Cosin Germaine: so farre forth as the follies of the one, were either causes or furtherances of the fortunes of the other.

Richard Sonne to Edward Prince of Wales, a little before deceased, was after the death of King Edward the third, crowned King over this Realme of England, in the eleventh yeare of his age: at which yeares the mind of man is like to the potters earth, apt to bee wrought into any fashion, and which way soever it hardneth by custome, it will sooner breake then bend from the same. Now the governance of the King at the first was committed to cer­taine Bishops, Earles, Barons, and Iustices. But either upon nicenes to discontent the King, or negligence to discharge their duty, every one was more ready with pleasant con­ceits to delight him, then with pro­fitable counsaile to doe him good: [Page 10] for smooth and pleasing speeches need small endeavour, and alwayes findeth favour: whereas to advise that which is meet, is a point of some paines, and many times a thanklesse office. Hereupon two dangerous e­vils did ensue; flattery brake in, and private respects did passe under pub­like pretences.

In the third yeare of his Raigne▪ it was thought meete that this charge should bee committed to one man, to avoid thereby the unnecessary wast of the Treasure of the Realme, by allowing yearely stipend unto many. So by the whole consent of the Nobility and Commons assem­bled together in Parliament, this of­fice was deputed to Lord Thomas Beauchampe Earle of Warwick, and a competent pension was assigned him, out of the Kings Exchequer for his paines. But the King being now plunged in pleasure, did immo­derately bend himselfe to the fa­vouring and advancing of certaine persons, which were both reprovea­ble [Page 11] in life, and generally abhorred in all the Realme, and this was the cause of two great inconveniences: for many young Noble-men and brave Courtiers, having a nimble eye to the secret favours and dislikes of the King, gave over themselves to a dissolute and dishonest life, which findeth some followers when it findeth no furtherancers, much more when it doth flourish and thrive: the King also by favouring these, was himselfe little favoured and loved of many: for it is often­times as dangerous to a Prince, to have evill and odious adherents, as to bee evill and odious himselfe. The names of these men were A­lexander Nevill, Archbishop of Yorke, Robert Veere, Earle of Oxford: Mi­chael Delapoole afterwards Earle of Suffolke, Robert Trisilian, Lord chiefe Iustice, Nicholas Brambre, Alderman of London; and certaine o­thers of no eminency, either by birth or desert, but obsequious and pliable to the Kings youthfull humour. [Page 12] These were highly in credit with the King: these were alwayes next unto him, both in company and counsell: by these hee ordered his private actions: by these hee managed his affaires of state: hee spared nei­ther the dignity nor death of any man, whose authority and life with­stood their preferment. In so much as in the fifth yeare of his raigne, hee removed Sir Richard Scroope, from being Lord Chancellour of England, (to which office hee was by autho­rity of Parliament appointed,) be­cause hee refused to set the great Seale, to the grant of certaine Lands, which had wantonly passed from the King: alleaging for his deniall, the great debts of the King, and small demerites of the parties, upon whom the King might cast away and con­sume, but spend in good order hee could not; advertising him also to have respect, that riote did not de­ceive him under the terme and shew of liberality: and that gifts well or­dered procure not so much love, [Page 13] as placed without discretion, they stirre envy. This Chancelour was a man of notable integrity and dili­gence in his office, not scornefully turning away from the ragged coate of a poore suppliant, or pale face of a sickly and feeble limmed [...]u [...]er, holding up their simple soiled bils of complaint, nor yet smothering his conscience with partiall main­taining of such as were mighty: but being alike to all, hee was soone disliked of those that were bad.

In the eight yeare of this Kings raigne, the destruction of the Duke of Lancaster was intended likewise upon the like dislike: the plot was laied by Iustice Trisilian, offences were devised, Appellours appointed, and Peeres named; hee should have beene put under arrest suddenly, and forth­with arraigned, condemned, and exe­cuted. But the Duke upon privy intelligences of these contrivances, fled to his Castle at Pomfret, and there made preparation for his de­fence against the King. So this mat­ter [Page 14] beganne to grow to a head of division, which the Common peo­ple at that time very busily, desired and fought: but the Kings Mother travelling incessantly betweene the King and the Duke; (notwithstan­ding shee was both corpulent and in yeares) laboured them both to a reconcilement: the King, with regard of the dangerous and discontented times: the Duke, with respect of his duty and faith: and so partly by her entreaty and advise, partly by their inclination bending to the safest course, all apparancy of displeasure on the one part, and distrust on the other, was for that time layed a­side.

The same yeare, Michael Dela­poole was made Chancellour of Eng­land, and created Earle of Suffolke: and Robert Veere Earle of Oxford, was created Marquesse of Dublin, being the first man within the Realme that was enobled with that title. But as they grew in honour, so did they in hate: for many Noble-men [Page 15] did infinitely stomack their undeserved advancements, and with these the favour of the People ge­nerally went: but the Kings intem­perate affection was peremptory and violent, not regarding envy un­till hee could not resist it.

The yeare next following, Robert Veer [...] the new Marquesse, was crea­ted Duke of Ireland. This yeare, the Knights and Burgesses of Parlia­ment, put up many complaints a­gainst the Earle of Suffolke, upon which they desired his answers and triall: namely, how hee had abused the King in taking of him to farme all the profits and revenues of the Crowne: how wantonly hee wasted the treasure of the land in riotous liberality, and unnecessary charges: how deepe hee had dived into the Kings debt: how carelesse and cor­rupt hee was in his office: how great­ly hee had both deceived and discre­dited the King in certaine dealings and accounts particularly expressed: with divers other imputations [Page 16] touching dishonour and dishonesty, both in private action and in office. This Earle was a Merchants Sonne in London, and growing mighty on the sudden, hee could not governe himselfe in the change: but prospe­rity layed open the secret faults of his mind, which were suppressed and cloaked before: and serving a weake Ruler in great place, with an ill mind, hee made open sale of his Princes honour. Yet the King was willing, either secretly to dis­semble, or openly to remit these offences: and so passed them over with a short audience (as his manner was in matters of greatest weight) and without examination, shewing himselfe neither grieved at the faults, nor well pleased with the complaint. Afterwards a Subsidy was required: but answer was made that this needed not, since the Kings wants might bee furnished with the debts which were owing him from his Chancelour: neither was it to any purpose, so long as the mo­ney [Page 17] should bee ordered by such per­sons as before it had beene, and that that time was like. Then were the matters against the Lord Chancel­lour againe set on foote, and the King perswaded that it was neither hono­rable nor safe to beare him out; that to private men it was sufficient if themselves abstaine from wrong, but a Prince must provide that none doe wrong under him: for by main­taining, or wincking at the vices of his Officers, hee maketh them his owne, and shall surely bee charged therewith when first occasion doth serve against him. At the last, upon instant importunity of both Houses, the King did consent, that a com­mission should goe forth to certaine Noble-men, giving them authority to heare and determine all matters which were objected against the Lord Chancellour: and then was a Subsidie granted, with exception, that the money should bee expended by the Lords, to the benefit and be­halfe of the Realme. The King did [Page 18] further demand, that the Heires of Charles Bloyes, who made claime to the Dutchy of Britaine, should bee sold to the French-men for thirty thousand markes, and the money granted to the Duke of Ireland, for recovery of those possessions which the King had given him in Ireland: this was likewise assented unto, upon condition, that before Easter the next ensuing, the Duke should depart into Ireland, and there remaine: at so high a price did they value the rid­dance of him out of the Realme.

The charge of the Subsidie mo­ney, was committed to Richard Earle of Arundell. Commissioners for the Earle of Suffolke were appointed, Thomas Duke of Glocester the Kings Vncle, and the said Earle of Arun­dell: but during the time of their pro­ceeding, the King kept all off, in places farre distant: either to mani­fest thereby the discent of his mind, or to avoid the griefe which his neerenesse would encrease: And now was the Chancellour left unto him­selfe, [Page 19] to answere to those demea­nours, wherein hee made the Kings blind favour his priviledge and pro­tection, supposing never to see the same either altered or over-ruled. In the end, being convict of many crimes and abuses, hee was deposed from his office, his goods were con­fiscated to the Kings Exchequer, and himselfe was adjudged worthy of death: Yet was execution submitted to the Kings pleasure, and under sureties hee was permitted to goe at large. At the same time, Iohn Foorde Bishop of Duresme, another of the Kings dainties, was removed also from being Lord Treasurer of England, hee was a man of little depth, either in learning or wise­dome, but one that had the Art of seeming, in making the best shew of whatsoever hee spake or did: and rising from meane estate to so high a pitch of honour, hee exercised the more excessively his riot, avarice, and ambition, not able to moderate the lusts and desires which former want had kindled.

[Page 20]When this businesse was blowne over, the King returned againe to London, and did presently receive the Earle of Suffolke, with the Duke of Ireland, and the Archbishop of Yorke, to greater grace and familiarity then at any time before. These Triumvirs did not cease to stirre up the Kings stomack against those Noblemen, whose speciall excellency had made matter of [...]ame and regard: partly for the disgraces which they had received, partly upon malicious e­mulation, to see the other so favou­red, and themselves so odious, and that their private choller and am­bition might beare some shew of publike respect, they suggested unto the King, that hee was but halfe, yea not halfe a King in his owne Realme, but rather the shadow and picture of a King: for if wee respect (said they) matters of state, you beare the sword, but they sway it, you have the shew, but they the au­thority of a Prince, using your name as a colour and countenance to their [Page 21] proceeding, and your person as a cipher, to make them great, and bee your selfe nothing. Looke to the duty of your Subjects, and it is at their devotion: so that you can nei­ther command nor demand any thing, but with such exceptions and limitations as they please to impose: come now to your private actions, your liberality (the greatest vertue in a Prince) is restrained, your ex­pences measured, and your affections confined, to frowne and favour as they doe prescribe. What Ward is so much under government of his Gardian? Wherein will they next, or can they more abridge you? Ex­cept they should take from you the place, as they have done the power of a Prince: and in this wee thinke, they may justly bee feared, having so great might joyned with so great aspiring minds. For power is ne­ver safe when it doth exceed: and ambition is like the Crocodile which groweth so long as hee liveth: or like the Ivie, which fastning on the [Page 22] foote of the tallest Tower, by small, yet continuall rising, at length will climbe above the top, it is already growne from a sparke to a flame, from a twig to a tree, and high time it is, that the increase were stayed: oftentimes such over-ruling of Prin­ces have proceeded to their over­throwing, and such cutting them short hath turned to cutting them off, their minds are suspicious, their power dangerous, and therefore the oportunity must bee preven­ted.

The Kings owne weakenesse made him apprehensive, and framed his mind to a vaine and needlesse feare: but chiefly hee was moved at the removing of his Chancellour and Treasurer out of their offices, and of the Duke of Ireland out of the Realme, supposing it a restraint to his Princely power, that hee might not absolutely and in things give or forgive as his pleasure ser­ved. When these privy incensers perceived the Kings humour once [Page 23] sharpned, they so plied him with plausible perswasions, that (although hee was naturally of no cruell dispo­sition, as wanting courage) yet they drew him to many violent and in­direct courses, partly upon negli­gence to search out the truth, partly upon delight to bee flattered and smoothly used, neither did they long deferre their devises: and first it was appointed, that the Duke of Glocester, and certaine others of that part, should bee invited to a supper within London, and there suddainly surprised and made away. Sir Ni­cholas Brambre, who the yeare be­fore had beene Major of London, and in whom aboundance of wealth supplied the want of honest quali­ties, was a busie agent in this but­cherly businesse: but Richard Extone the Major of the City, that yeare, discovered the practise by whom the Duke was warned both to avoid the present perill, and afterwards to bee wary of the like.

The yeare next following, Richard [Page 24] Earle of Arundel, and Thomas Mow­bray Earle of Nottingham, had the conduct of a Navy committed to their charge: in this voyage they tooke above a hundred saile of the enemies ships, fraughted with wines, and well appointed for fight: they also relieved and fortified Brest, and tooke two forces which the French-men had raised against it. The Earles so behaved them­selves in this service, that they grew to a very great estimation, both for courtesie among their Souldiers, and for courage against their enemies: and their actions were the more famous, by reason of the infortunate sufficiency of other Commanders, by whose either rashnesse or cowardise, many good Souldiers were dayly defeated, and every yeare made notorious, by one losse or other. Yet notwithstanding all their good labour and luck, they were at their returne, entertained by the King, with great strangenes, both of countenance and speech. [Page 25] Who was so unable to dissemble his dispight, that hee could hardly de­ferre it, untill the heat of the honour and love which they had wonne, were somewhat abated. So much are men more inclinable to revenge displeasure, then reward desert: for it is troublesome to bee gratefull, and many times chargeable: but re­venge is pleasant, and preferred be­fore gaine.

About the same time, Robert Duke of Ireland forsooke the company of his lawfull wife, whose Mother Lady Isabel, was Daughter to King Edward the third, and insteed of her, hee tooke unto him a base Bohemian, a Taverners Daughter. The King little regarded this indignity done unto his Cosin, and in so great con­fusion of the state, let it passe unre­proved, as overshadowed with greater vices: but the Duke of Glo­cester her Vncle, tooke it in high disdaine, as injurious to the Royall bloud, and did attend upon occasion to worke revenge, this was not se­cret [Page 26] from the Duke of Ireland, who likewise bent all his devises to bring the Duke of Glocester to his over­throw. The Duke of Glocester did prosecute his enmity openly and manlike: the Duke of Ireland closely, and therefore the more dangerously. The Duke of Glocester was greater in bloud, the Duke of Ireland in favour; hee being Vncle to the King, this bearing himselfe as the Kings fel­low. The Duke of Glocester pre­tended for the State, the Duke of Ireland for the King: and much pri­vate malice did passe under these publike shewes: but in opposition of such equall powers, there is many times small difference in harme.

And now was Easter past, the Tearme assigned to Duke Robert Vicere for his departure into Ireland: and least his stay might breed some stirre within the Realme, hee still busied himselfe in preparation for his journey, and at last (although it were long) made a solemne shew of setting forth. The King went in [Page 27] great state to accompany him to his shipping; and the Earle of Suffolke with Iustice Trisilian, and the re­sidue of that faction, either for favour followed, for or feare durst not stay behind. So they passed together in­to Wales, and (whether upon levity the Kings mind changed; or whe­ther it was so contrived at the first to draw themselves more separate from the Lords,) there the Dukes journey was at an end. Then they entred into Counsell which way the Lords might best bee suppressed: ma­ny devises were deeply debated, all pleased without respect either of danger or disgrace: but few stood with likelihood of event to their desires, and therefore none was final­ly concluded. After long time thus frivolously spent, they left Wales, and came to the Castle of Notting­ham, where the King caused the high Sheriffes of all the Shires in the Realme to bee called before him, and demanded of them, what strength they could make on his part against [Page 28] the Lords, if need should require: their answer was, that the Com­mon people did so favour the Lords, and were so well resolved of their love and loyalty towards the King, that it was not in their power to raise any great power against them Then they were commanded that no Knights nor Burgesses should afterwards bee chosen to any Par­liament, but those whom it pleased the King to appoint: whereto they said that it was a hard matter in those times of jealousie and suspition, to be­reave the people of their ancient li­berty, in chosing Knights and Bur­gesses for the Parliament, some few other matters being either unreaso­nably required, or obtained to small end, the Sheriffes were licensed to depart. Then were assembled Ro­bert Trisilian, chiefe Iustice of the Kings Bench, Robert Belknape, chiefe Iustice of the Common Pleas, Iohn Holte, Roger Stilthrope, William Burgh, Knights and Iustices also of the Common Pleas, men learned in [Page 29] one rule chiefly, without difference of truth or falsehood, to please those in highest places, intituling that wisedome, which indeed was but basenesse and feeblenesse of mind: these were charged by the King upon their faith and legeance, to make true and full answers to those questions following.

1 First, Whether the Statute, Or­dinances, and Commission, made and set forth the last Parliament, (where­by was meant the commission against Michael De-la-poole Duke of Suf­folke) did derogate from the Royall pre­rogative of the King.

2 Item, They who procured the said Statute &c. to bee made and set forth, how are they to bee punished?

3 Item, How are they to bee pu­nished, who provoked the King to con­sent to the premises?

4 Item, What punishment have they deserved who compelled the King to consent to the said statute, &c.

5 Item, How are they to be punished, [Page 30] who resisted or letted the King in exercising his Royall power, by re­mitting any penalties or debts what­soever?

6 Item, When a Parliament is as­sembled, and the affaires of the Realme, and the cause of assembling the Parlia­ment, by the Kings commandement de­clared, and common Articles limited by the King, upon which, the Lords and Commons in the said Parliament should proceed: if the Lords and Com­mons will proceed upon other Arti­cles, and not upon the Articles limited by the King, untill the King hath first given answere to the Articles propoun­ded by them, notwithstanding that the contrary were enjoyned by the King, whether in this case the King ought to have the rule of the Parliament, and so to order the fact, that the Lords and Commons should first proceed upon the Articles limited by the King, or that they should first have answer of the King, upon the Articles propounded by them, before they proceed any fur­ther?

[Page 31]7 Item, Whether may the King when hee please dissolve the Parlia­ment, and command the Lords and Com­mons to depart or no?

8 Item, Since the King may at his pleasure remove any of his Officers and Iustices, and punish them for their of­fences: whether may the Lords and Commons without the Kings will, ac­cuse his Officers and Iustices in Par­liament for their offences, yea, or no?

9 Item, What punishment have they deserved, who moved in Parlia­ment, that the statute whereby King Edward Carnarvan was deposed should bee brought forth, by view whereof, the new statute ordinance and commission aforesaid were framed?

10 Item, Whether the judgement given in the last Parliament holden at Westminster, against Michael De­la-poole Duke of Suffolke, was erro­nious and revocable; yea, or no?

These questions, or rather quar­rels were drawne by Iohn Blake a [Page 32] Councellour at the Law, by dire­ction of Iustice Trisilian, whilest the King made his stay in Wales: to the which the Iustices afore-named, some in discharge of their owne ma­lice, and some to satisfie the minds of other, made answer as follow­eth.

To the first, that they did dero­gate from the Prerogative of the King, because they were against his will.

To the second and third: that they are to bee punished by death, except it pleaseth the King to par­don them.

To the fourth and fifth: that they are worthy to bee punished as Tray­tours.

To the sixth: that whosoever re­sisteth the Kings rule in that point, deserveth to bee punished as a Tray­tour.

To the seventh, that the King may at his pleasure dissolve the Par­liament, and whosoever shall after­wards proceed against the Kings [Page 33] mind, as in a Parliament, hee is wor­thy to bee punished as a Traytour.

To the eighth, that they cannot, and whosoever doth the contrary hee de­serveth to be punished as a Traytour.

To the ninth, that as well the Motioner as also the Bringer of the said statute to the Parliament, are worthy to be punished as Traytours.

To the tenth, they answered: that the said judgement seemed to them erronious and revocable in every part. In witnesse whereof, the Iustices aforesaid, with Iohn Locktone, the Kings sergeant at Law, have subscribed and set their seals to these presents, &c.

When these bloudy sentences of death & treason, were under generall and large Tearmes thus fastened upon the Lords, the King supposed his at­tempts against them, whether by vio­lence, or by colour of law sufficiently warranted: but his power both wayes, as it was terrible against weak resistance, so against such mighty de­fendants it was of smal force to effect that w ^ch he so much affected. Yet he [Page 34] did not omit his first indeavour: and first accounting the Lords as con­demned persons, hee made division of their Lands and goods among those that hee favoured. Then hee waged Souldiers to bee in a rea­dinesse for his assistance, and sent the Earle of Northumberland to ar­rest the Earle of Arundel, at his Ca­stle in Reygate, where hee then lay. But the Earle of Arundel, either upon advertisement, or suspition of the Kings mind, banded himselfe so strong, that when the Earle of Northumberland came unto him, hee dissembled his intent, and left his purpose unperformed. Thus were these proceedings of the King, as now in Councell, so afterwards in event, not much unlike that which the Fable telleth of a certaine hun­ter, who first sold the skinne of the beare, and then went about to take her: but when hee came within the forrest, either by unskilfulnesse or misadventure, hee not onely missed his pray, but fell himselfe into dan­ger of the beast.

[Page 35]The Duke of Glocester having secret intelligence of the Kings dis­pleasure, and of his drift, sent the Bishop of London to perswade the King to entertaine a more favoura­ble opinion of him: making faith to the Bishop, with a solemne oath, that hee never intended any thing to the prejudice of the King, either in person or state. The Bishop not unskilfull to joyne profitable per­swasion, with honest, declared to the King, that his displeasure against the Lords was not grounded upon just desert, but either upon false sug­gestions of their enemies, or erro­ni [...]us mistaking of some of their actions: how desirous they were of his grace and favour: how faithfull and forward they promised to per­sist in all dutifull service: how ho­nourable this agreement would bee to the King: how profitable to the Realme: and how dangerous to both, if these troubles might encrease. The King seemed to give good [...]are and credit to the Bishops speech: [Page 36] but Michael Delapoole, a turbulent man, and against quiet counsell ob­stinately contentious, standing then by the King, soone stiffened his mind against all impression of friendship. Hereupon contention did arise betweene the Bishop and the Earle, and brake forth violently into heat of words. The Earle ap­plied to the Lords those objections wherewith great men are usually charged: sparing no spight of speech, and using all art to aggravate mat­ters against them. The Bishop re­plied, that the Earle was thus fierce­ly bent, not upon his owne neces­sity, nor love to the King; but onely to satisfie his bloudy and ambitious humour, wherein hee was so immo­derate that rather then the Lords should not bee destroyed, hee would overwhelme them with the ruines of the State, for tumults might in­deed bee raised by men of little cou­rage, but must bee maintained with the hazard, and ended with the losse of the most valiant; that neither his [Page 37] Counsell in this matter was to bee followed, being the principall fire­brand of the disturbance, nor his complants against any man to bee any thing regarded, being him­selfe a condemned person, and one that held both his life and honour at the pleasure of the King. At these words the King was exceedingly wroth, and charged the Bishop with menacing and threats to avoid his presence. When the Duke of Glou­cester had knowledge hereof, hee signified the danger to the Earles of Arundel, Warwick, and Derby, advi­sing them to take armes, and unite themselves for their common de­fence: for in so doubtfull and suspe­cted peace, open warre was the one­ly way of safety. These three Earles were the chiefest strength to the side, but the Duke bare the most stroke, because hee was most bold, and his greatnesse almost obscured the names of the rest. On the other side, the King thinking separate dealing the onely way to weaken a [Page 38] confederacy, endeavoured to prevent the Lords in joyning of their forces▪ and to that end hee sent a strength of men with charge, either to set upon the Earle of Arundel where hee did lie: or to intercept him in his passage towards the Duke. But the Earle had travelled all the night be­fore their comming, and so happily escaped to Haringey parke, where hee found the Duke, and the other Earles, with a sufficient company, as well to make attempt, as to stand up­on resistance.

When the King heard hereof, hee was disturbed and distracted in mind, being now in choise either to relent, or to resist, whereof hee much disdained the one, and distrusted the other. His followers also was di­vided in Counsell: some fretting at the disgrace, and some fainting at the danger. The Archbishop of Yorke perswaded the King, that occasion was now offered to shew himselfe a King indeed, if hee would muster a Royall army, and by maine might [Page 39] beate downe the boldnesse of this presumption. N [...]hil dictu facilius, said another: This is more readily devi­sed then done: the army against us is mighty, and the Commanders are great men, both for courage and skill, and greatly favoured of the Common people: whereby that which is accompted so ready pay, may chance to prove a desperate debt. Therefore it were better with some yeelding to enter into condi­tions of quiet, then by standing upon high points of honour to hazard the issue of a battaile, wherein the King cannot winne without his weakning, nor loose without dan­ger of his undoing. There was then in presence, a certaine old Knight, called Sir Hugh Linne, a good soul­dier, but a very mad-cap, and one that lived chiefely upon the libera­lity of Noblemen; by vaine jestes, affecting the grace of a pleasant con­ceit: of him the King demanded in mirth, what hee thought best to bee done? Sir Hugh swore, swownes and [Page 40] snailes, let us set upon them, and kill every man and mothers child; and so wee shall make riddance of the best friends you have in the Realme, this giddy answer more weighed with the King then if it had beene spoken in grave and sober sort: and thus it often happeneth, that wise­dome is the more, sweetly swal­lowed when it is tempered with folly, and earnest is the lesse offen­sive, if it bee delivered in jest. In the end, the devise of raising armes was laid aside, not as displeasing (being so agreeable to former pro­ceedings, but as despairing to pre­vaile thereby; and the Archbishop of Canterbury, with the Bishop of Ely being Lord Chancellour, were sent unto the Lords, to understand the cause of their assembly: answer was made, that it was for the safety of themselves; the honour of the King, and the overthrow of them which sought the overthrow of both. At the last it was concluded by mediation of the Bishops, that [Page 41] the Lords should come before the King at Westminster, upon promise of his protection, and there have au­dience concerning their griefes: the Bishop of Ely also making private saith, that hee would discover any danger that hee could discrie, a little before the time they should come, the Bishop of Ely sent word of an await that was purposed to bee laid for them, at a place called the Mewes, neere London; advising them either to make stay, or to come pre­pared: but rather to make stay, least further provocation might make reconcilement more hard, hereupon they came not at the time appoin­ted, and the King marvailing at their sailance, enquired the cause of the Bishop of Ely: who answered, that the Lords found want of true mea­ning, and that they neither did, nor durst repose assurance to the Kings word, which they saw to bee used as a meanes to entrap them, the King made the matter very strange unto him, affirming with an oath [Page 42] that hee was free from deceit, both in consent and knowledge: and in a great rage, hee commanded the Sheriffes of London to goe to the place, and slay all those whom they found there in wait. Whether this was but a countenance of his, or whether hee was not privy to the practice, it is not assuredly knowne, and indeed, the matter was not false, but the place mistaken: for Sir Tho­mas Trivet, and Sir Nicholas Bram­bre had assembled many armed men at Westminster, with direction to as­sault the Lords at their best advan­tage: but perceiving their deceit to bee discovered, they dissolved the company, and sent them secretly a­way to London.

Then the Lords, upon new faith for their security, came to the King at Westminster, and yet in faith they brought security with them, such troupes of men, as in a place where they were so intirely favoured, was able to defend them, in any suddaine tumult or danger: the King upon [Page 43] their comming entred into West­minster-Hall, apparelled in his Royall robes: and when hee was placed in his seat, and had composed himselfe to Majesty and State, the Bishop of Ely, Lord Chancellour, made a long Oration to the Lords in the Kings name. Wherein hee declared the heinousnesse of their offence, the greatnesse of their perill, how easie a matter it had beene for the King to have levied a power sufficient to destroy them; and yet for the gene­rall spare of his Subjects bloud, and in particular favour to the Duke and other Lords, hee made choyce to en­counter and overcome them, rather by friendship then by force: and therefore was willing, not onely to pardon their riot, but also to heare their griefes, and in a peaceable and quiet manner to redresse them. The Lords alleadged for causes of their taking armes, first the necessity of their owne defence: secondly the love both of the King and of the Realme, whose fame and fortune [Page 44] did dayly decline, by meanes of cer­taine Traytours, who lived onely by the dishonours of the one, and decayes of the other, those whom th [...]y challenged for Traytours, were Robert Veere Duke of Ireland, A­lexander Nevill Archbishop of Yorke, Michael De-la-poole Earle of Suf­folke, Robert Trisilian Lord chiefe Iustice; Sir Nicholas Brambre, and certaine others, somewhat secreter, but nothing better: and to justifie this appeale, they threw downe their gloves, and offered themselves to the triall by combat. The King replied, that oftentimes the causes of actions being good, yet, if the meanes want moderation, and judgement, the e­vents prove pernitious: and there­fore, though these complaints were true, yet were these courses not tol­lerable, which did beare an open face of rebellion, and by licentiousnesse of the multitude, might soone have sorted to such an end: for it is more easie to raise the people, then to rule them: whose fury once stirred, will [Page 45] commonly bee discharged some wayes. But (said hee) since wee have broken this broile, wee will not by combating give occasion of a new: but at the next Parliament (which hee appointed should be­ginne the third day of February then next ensuing) as well you, as they, Crostino Purifica­tionis. shall bee present, and justice indif­ferently done unto all. In the meane time, hee tooke all parties into his protection, that none should endan­ger or endammage another: desiring the Lords to beare in mind, that as Princes must not rule without li­mitation, so Subjects must use a meane in their liberty. Then hee caused the Duke and the Earles, which all this time kneeled before him, to arise, and went with them into his private Chamber, where they talked a while, and drunke fa­miliarly together, and afterwards, with a most friendly farewell hee licensed them to depart. They of the contrary faction were not pre­sent at this meeting, and if they had, [Page 46] it was thought, that the presence of the King should little have protected them.

This act of the King was divers wayes taken: some judged him fearefull; others moderate, rather in sparing the bloud of his Subjects. The Lords were very joyfull of his good will and favour, which as by base or bad meanes they would not seeke, so being well gotten, they did highly esteeme. Yet they thought it the safest course, not to separate themselves, suspecting the mutabi­lity of the King, and the malice of their enemies, of whom they knew neither where they were, nor what they did intend: and being men of great wealth, and great power, and greatly bent to hurtfull practices, they were feared not without a cause: for the Duke of Ireland, either by setting on, or sufferance of the King, was all this time mustering of Souldiers out of Ch [...]shire and Wales, where hee gathered an army both for number, and goodnesse of men [Page 47] sufficient, if another had beene ge­nerall, to have maintained the side.

When the Lords were advertised hereof, they devided themselves, and beset all the wayes by which the Duke should passe to London; deter­mining to encounter him, before hee did increase his power, and counte­nance his actions with the puissance or name of the King. At the last hee was met by the Earle of Derby, at a place called Babbelake neere to Bur­ford: and there the Earle put his men in array, resolving with great bold­nesse to hazard the battail [...], his Soul­diers also were full of courage and heart, disliking nothing more then de­lay, as a loosing of time, and a hinde­rance to the victory▪ but the Duke, be­ing a man not fit for action, yet muti­nous, and more apt to stirre strife, then able to stint it: upon newes of an enemy would presently have fled. There was then in the army a prin­cipall Commander, one Sir Thomas Molineux, Constable of Ch [...]shire, a [Page 48] man of great wealth, and of good proofe in service, upon whose lea­ding all that Countrey did depend: hee perswaded the Duke, that this was but a part of the forces that were against them, and led onely by the Earle of Derby, a man of no spe­ciall name (at that time) among the Lords, and if they could not beare through that resistance, it was but in vaine to attempt any great at­chevement by armes. Hereupon the Duke stayed his steps, but his faint Spirits were moved by this speech, rather to desire victory then to hope it: his souldiers also were dull, silent, and sad, and such as were readier to interpret, then to execute the Cap­taines commandement. So they joy­ned battell, but scarce tenne ounces of bloud was lost on both sides, be­fore the Duke of Ireland set spurres to his horse, and forsooke the field. His souldiers seeing this, threw away their unfortunate weapon [...], more for indignation then for feare, ruffling their ranks, and yeelding to the Earle [Page 49] the honour of the field. Sir Thomas Molineux in flying away, was forced to take a River which was neere, and as hee was comming foorth a­gaine, a certaine Knight, whose name was Sir Thomas Mortimer, pulled off his helmet, and stabbed him into the braines with his dagger. The rest submitted themselves to the dis­cretion of the Victorers, making them Lords over their life, and death: but their yeelding was no soo­ner offered, then it was accepted, the Earle presently commanding that none should bee harmed, but those that did make resistance, or beare ar­mour: The souldiers also being wil­ling to shew favour towards their Countrey-men, as led into this a­ction, partly upon simplicity, part­ly to accompany these which came upon feare. Then the Gentlemen were still retained in the Earles company, the common Soul­diours were dispoiled of their ar­mour onely, and so returned againe to their peaceable businesse at home. [Page 50] And this was the first act whereby reputation did rise to the side, and the greatnesse beganne, where­unto the Earle afterwards attai­ned.

The Duke of Ireland, at the begin­ning of his flight, was desirous to have passed the River which ranne by: and comming to a bridge, hee found the same broken: from thence hee posted to another bridge, which hee found guarded with Archers. At the last, his fearefulnesse being feared away (as nothing maketh men more desperate upon a doubtfull danger, then feare of that which is certaine) hee adventured to take the streame; in the midst whereof hee forsooke his horse and swam to the other side, and so by benefit of the night es [...]aped, and flied into Scot­land: and shortly after passed the Seas into Flanders, and from thence tra­velled into France: where the con­tinuall gall of his griefe soone brought his loathed life to an end. His horse was taken with his brest­plate, [Page 51] his helmet and his gauntlets, whereupon it was generally suppo­sed that hee was drowned; and (as in great uncertainties it often happe­neth) some affirmed that they saw his death, which men either glad to heare, or not curious to search, did easily beleeve: whether this were thus contrived of purpose, or fell so out by chance, it was a great meanes of his escape, by staying the pursute after him, which otherwise had beene made. His coach also was taken, and certaine of the Kings let­ters found, wherein hee desired the Duke to come to London with all the speed and power hee could make, and hee would bee ready to dy in his defence; so unskilfull was hee in matter of government, that to plea­sure a few, hee regarded not the dis­contentment of all the rest.

The Earle of Suffolke, upon this accident, shaved his beard, and in base and disguised artire fled to Calis, and either for feare, or for shame, never af­ter returned into England: he was a [Page 52] cruell spoiler, and a carelesse spen­der, in Warre contemptible, in peace in-supportable, an enemy to all Coun­saile of others, and in his owne conceit obstinately contentious; of a good wit, and ready speech both which hee abused, to the cunning commending of himselfe, and crafty depraving of others: hee was lesse loved but better heard of the King, then the Duke of Ireland: the more hurtfull man and the more hatefull: the Duke being charged with no great fault: but onely the Kings ex­cessive favour, in their course of good and bad fortune, both of them were famous alike. Also the Arch­bishop of Yorke, Iustice Trisilian, and others of that faction, ranne eve­ry man, like connies to their co­vert; Yea, the King betooke himselfe to the Tower of London, and there made provision for his Winter aboad; having all his courses now crossed, first rashnes in taking armes, and af­terwards by cowardise in maintai­ning them.

[Page 53]The Earle of Darby signified this successe to his associates by letters, yet without any vanting or enlar­ging Tearmes: his speeches also were moderate, rather extenuating his fact then extolling it, but by stopping his fame, it much encreased when men esteemed his high thoughts by his lowly words, and his conceit in great exploits, by his contempt of this. Then the Lords met, and marched together towards London, whither they came upon Saint Ste­phens day, having almost forty thou­sand men in their army, and first they shewed themselves in battaile array, in the fields neare unto the Tower, within the view of the King: af­terwards, they tooke up their lod­gings in the Suburbs, the Major and Aldermen of the City came forth, and gave liberall allowance of vi­ctuall to the souldiers, offering unto the Lords entertainement with­in the City, but they did not accept it.

Now this discord seemed to draw [Page 54] to a dangerous distr [...]ction of the Common-wealth; the vanquished part being full of malice, and the Conquerours of presumption: the one wanting power, the other right to command and rule. The Arch­bishop of Canterbury, and certaine others of the neutrality, fearing the sequele, perswaded the King to come to a treaty with the Lords: but hee made shew of very light regard of all these dealings; let them stay (said hee) untill they have wearied themselves with maintaining this multitude, and then I will talke fur­ther with them. When the Lords understood the drift of his devise, they beset the Thames, and all other passages, and protested, that they would not depart untill they had talked with him to his face The King having neither strength to re­sist; nor scope to scape, consented to a treaty, and to that end desired the Lords to come to him into the Tower: but they refused that place of meeting, upon feare of false mea­sure, [Page 55] untill the King permitted them to search as diligently, and come as strongly, as they thought it meet. So they came unto the King well guarded, and after a few could kind­n [...]sses, and strange salutations, they laid before him, his proceedings a­gainst them at Nottingam; his let­ters which he sent to the Duke of Ireland contrary to his word, for the raising of armes against them: his agreement with the French King, for the yeelding up of Calis and other strong holds which he possessed in those parts: with divers other points of dishonourable d [...]a­ling and negligent government. What should the King then have said or done? all these matters were so evident, and so evill, that there was no place left either for deniall or defence. Therefore ingenuously, first with silence and patience, after­wards with teares hee confessed his errours. And certainely, the stiffe stomack of the Lords relented more to these luke warme drops then [Page 56] they would have done to his Cannon shot.

Then it was agreed, that the next day the King should meet with them at Westminster, and there treat further, both of these, and other ne­cessary affaires of the Realme. So the Duke, and the rest of the Lords departed, except the Earle of Darby, who stayed supper with the King, and all that time stayed him in his promised purpose: but when hee was also gone, some of the secret Coun­sailours, or Corrupters rather, and Abusers of the King, whistled him in the eare, that his going to West­minster was neither seemely nor safe, and would cause not onely to his person present danger and con­tempt, but also both abasement and abridgement to his authority after­wards: Th [...] Kings mind was soone changed; but the Lords being now stirred, and feeling the Kings hand weake to governe the bridle, became the more vehement, and sent him word, that if hee did jeofaile with [Page 57] them, and not come according to appointment, they would chuse ano­ther King, who should have his No­bility in better regard. This per­emptory message so terrified the King, that hee not onely went to Westminster, but suffered the Lords to doe there even what they would. So they caused him much against his liking, to remove out of the Court, Alexander Nevill, Archbishop of Yorke, Iohn Foord, Bishop of Du­risme, Frier Th [...]mas Rushoke, Bishop of Chichester, the Kings Confessour: Likewise they removed the Lord Sou [...], the Lord Haringworth, Lord Burnel, Lord Beaumount, Sir Albred Veere, Sir Bald [...]wine Bereford, Sir Ri­chard Alderbury, Sir Iohn Worth, Sir Thomas Clifford, and Sir Iohn Lovell, taking sureties, for their appea­rance at the next Parliament. Also certaine Ladies were expelled the Court, and put under sureties: to wit, the Lady Mowen, the Lady Moling, and the Lady Ponings, which was the wife of Sir Iohn Woorth. Fur­thermore, [Page 58] they arrested Simon Burly, William Elinghame, Iohn Salisbury, Thomas Trivet, Iames Berneis, Ni­cholas Dagworth, and Nicholas B [...]m­bre Knights, Richard Clifford, Iohn Lincolne, and Richard Motford, Clearkes, Iohn Beauchampe the Kings Steward, Nicholas Lake, Deane of the Kings Chappell, and Iohn Blake Counceller at the Law: all these were committed to divers Prisons, where they were forth-comming, but not comming forth, untill the Parlia­ment next following.

After the feast of the Purification, the Parliament beganne at London, 1388. (and yet the King used many means, either to dash or deferre the same) to which the Lords came, attended with the number and strength of a full army, upon colour to represse a­ny riot [...] that might happen to arise: but in truth, that by this terrour, they might draw the whole mannage of affaires unto themselves. This assem­bly continued untill Whitsuntide next following, with very great fear [Page 59] of some men, and hope of others, and expectation of all. Herein was Iu­stice Trisilian, by counsaile of the Lords, against the Kings mind, con­demned to bee drawne and hanged: which judgement was presently executed upon him: the like sentence and execution passed upon Sir Ni­cholas Brambre, Sir Iohn Salisbury, Sir Iames Barneis, Iohn Beauchampe, the Kings Steward, and Iohn Blake Esquire, who had framed the Arti­cles which were exhibited against the Lords at Nottingham. Also the Iustices who gave their judgement concerning those Articles, Robert Belknape, Iohn Holt, Roger F [...]lthrope, and William Burghe, were condem­ned to perpetuall exile: and yet they did not enterpose themselves, but intermeddle by constraint. Sir Si­mon Burly was also beheaded, who was Keeper of Dover Castle; and had conspired to deliver the same un­to the Frenchmen: hee was infinitely [...]aughty and proud, equall to the meanest in vertue and wisedome, [Page 60] but in bravery and traine inferiour to no Duke, Divers other were ei­ther put to death, or banished, and some (as it happened when the reine of fury is at large) without any great cause. The Earle of Derby furthered no mans death, but laboured very in­stantly for the life and liberty of ma­ny, in so much as hot speeches did arise betwene the Duke of Glocester and him: whereby hee purchased a favourable opinion among those of the contrary part, having caused the death of no man, but onely in the field. Then was an oath exacted of the King, to stand to the Govern­ment of the Lords: and also a note was taken of all the Subjects within the Realme, to bee true and faith­full unto the King. The King in ta­king this oath of the Lords, be­wrayed his inward conceit by his open countenance, looking pleasant­ly on those hee favoured▪ and angerly on those whom hee hated: by which untimely discovery, hee made them more heedefull, and himselfe more [Page 61] hatefull: which were occasions af­terward, both to prevent the re­venge, which hee much desired and to procure the mischiefes which hee little feared. Lastly, a subsidie was granted: and so the King comming, as it were, to a capitulation with the Lords, hee to have the name of a King, and they the Authority and Majesty, the contention for that time ceased.

All this was done in the 11. yeare of the Kings raigne, 1389. hee being yet under age, and in Government of others. But the yeare following, hee beganne to take upon him more li­berty and rule: and upon extreame disdaine, that both his pleasure and his power were by the Lords thus restrained, hee did ever after beare a hard mind against them. And first hee assembled them in the Councell Chamber, and there demanded of what yeares they tooke him to bee: they answered, that hee was some­what above one and twenty; then (said hee) I am of lawfull age to [Page 62] have the regiment in mine owne hand, and therefore you doe mee wrong to hold mee still under go­vernment, as though the condition of a King were harder then of a Sub­ject. This the Lords were neither willing to grant, nor able to deny, and therefore they either kept si­lence, or spake little to the purpose. Well (said the King,) since I am no longer an infant, I heere renounce your rule, and take upon mee such free administration of the Realme, as the Kings thereof my Predeces­sours heretofore have lawfully used. Then presently hee began his Phae­tons flourish, and commanded the Bishop of Ely, being Lord Chancel­lour, to resigne his Seale; which the King received, and put up, and there­with departed out of the Chamber: but soone after hee returned againe, and delivered the same to William Wickam Bishop of Winchester, con­stituting him Lord Chancellour thereby. Many other officers hee likewise deposed; and placed new in [Page 63] their roome; partly to manifest his authority, and partly to satisfie his displeasure. Also hee removed the Duke of Glocester, the Earle of War­wick, and many others from his Pri­vy Councell, and tooke those in their places, which more regarded the humour of the King, but lesse his ho­nour.

Soone after, it was suggested to the King, that the Duke of Gloce­cester was gathering forces against him: but upon examination there was found not onely no truth, but no shew or colour of any such matter. The Duke would not quietly have disgested the raising of these reports▪ but the King, whether upon a gene­rall delight, to bee tickled in the cares with such tales, or upon par­ticular desire to have some quarrell against the Duke, charged him to si­lence.

In the 13. yeare of the raigne of King Richard, 1390. the Citizens of Ge­nu [...] desired his aid, against the Bar­barians of Afrike, who with dayly [Page 64] incursions infested and spoiled all the Sea coasts and Ilands of Italy, and France, which fronted upon them. The King sent a choyce company of Souldiers, under the conduct of Henry Earle of Derby; who behaved himselfe in this charge with great in­tegrity and courage, inciting his men, the good by praise, the bad by example, rather then reproofe, as more ready to commend the vertues of the one, then to upbraid the vices of the other. And first hee passed into France, and there joyned him­selfe to certaine French forces ap­pointed likewise for this service: then with might and minds uni­ted, they sailed together into Africk. At their arrivall, the Barbarians were ready in armes to keepe them from landing: but the Earle commanded his Archers to breake through and make passage, despising the enemy, whom hee knew to bee weake and unskilfull in service, and not to have that advantage in place, which hee had in men: the Frenchmen also [Page 65] sharply set in, and seconded the Eng­lish: and so whilest both companies contended, the one to bee accompted a helpe, and the other to seeme to need no helpe, the enemies were forced to flie, and leave the shoare unto the Christians. In this con­flict, three Dukes of the Barbarians and above three hundred Souldiers were slaine, and in the flight, foure Dukes were taken, and a great, yet uncertaine, number of Common people. Then the Christians mar­ched directly towards Tunis, the head City of that Countrey: this they besieged, and in short time tooke; chiefely by the prowesse of the Eng­lish souldiers, who first scaled the Wales, and reared thereon the Earles banner. When they were entred the Towne, the Englishmen bent their endeavour, to the housing of their enemies, and beating downe of such as made resistance, but the French­men straight wayes turned to their lascivious pleasures: so that there was presented a spectacle, both pitifull [Page 66] and shamelesse: in one place butche­ring of men, in another rioting with women: here streames of bloud, and heapes of slaughtered bodies, hard by dissolute and licentious wanton­nesses in some, all the miseries of a cruell warre, and the loosenesse of a secure peace▪ Here were slaine and taken above foure thousand Barba­rians: the Kings brother also was slaine: but the King himselfe fled in­to the Castle, which was strongly scited, and well fortified and fur­nished with men. The Christians laid siege to this Castle the space of five weekes, during which time, they lost many of their men, yet not by sword, but by sicknesse: the Barba­rians also were distressed with want of victuall, having but little provi­sion, and many unprofitable mouths to consume it: hereupon they sent unto the Christians, to desire peace, offering them a great summe of mo­ney, to depart out of their Countrey: this the Christians accepted, upon condition that they might also freely [Page 67] carry with them, all their pray and Prisoners; and that the Barbarians should from thence forth surcease from making spoile, upon any of the coasts of Italy, or France. Thus had this voyage a prosperous and spee­dy end: the onely service (as I sup­pose) which the English and French­men performed together, without jotte of jarre. And yet the Earle abused not the fortune of this suc­cesse, to vaine vanting, or braving in words, but moderately imparted to the rest, the honour of the exploit: so by valiantly performing his charge, and sparingly speaking there­of, his glory encreased, without bit of envy.

In the fifteenth and sixteenth yeares of the raigne of King Richard, 1392. 1393. certaine causes of discontentment did grow, betweene the King and the Londoners, which set the favour of the one, and the faith of the other, at great separation and distance: One was, for that the King would have borrowed of them a thousand [Page 68] pounds: which they feeling much, and fearing more the Kings dayly exactions, did not onely deny, but evill intreated a certaine Lumbard, who offered to lay out the mo­ney.

Another griefe was thus occasio­ned: One of the Bishop of Salis­buries servants, named Romane, mee­ting in Fleet-street with a Bakers man, bearing horse-broad, tooke a loafe out of his basket: and by rude demand of the one, and rough deniall of the other, chollar so kindled be­twixt them, that Romane brake the Bakers head. Hereupon the Neigh­bours came forth, and would have ar­rested the Bishops lusty yeoman: but hee escaped, and fled to this Bishops house. The Constable followed peaceably, and demanded a quiet de­livery of the Offendour: but the Bi­shops men shut the gates against him, that no man could come neere. Then much people flocked together, threatning to breake open the gates, and fire the house, unlesse Romane [Page 69] were brought forth unto them: What (said they) are the Bishops men priviledged? or is his house a San­ctuary? or will hee protect those whom hee ought to punish? if wee may bee shuffled off in this sort, not onely our streets, but our stops and our houses shall never bee free from violence and wrong. This wee will not endure: wee cannot: it standeth not us in hand. Herewith they ap­proached the gates, and beganne to use violence: but the Major and Sheriffes of the City, upon advertise­ment of this tumult, came amongst them, crying out, that it was not courage, but out-rage which they shewed: whereby they would pro­cure, both danger to themselves and displeasure against the whole City; that although wrong had beene re­ceived, yet they were not in the men, nor this the meanes to redresse the same: So partly by their perswasi­ons, partly by their presence and au­thority, they repressed the riot, and sent every man away, with streight [Page 70] charge to keepe the peace. Here was yet no great harme done, and the quarrell might have beene quieted without more adoe, had not the Bi­shops stirred therein, and kindled the coales of unkindnesse a fresh. For the Londoners at that time, were not onely suspected secretly, but o­penly noted to bee favourers and followers of Wickliffes opinions: for which cause, they were much maliced of the Bishops; and many of their actions interpreted, to pro­ceed from another mind, and tend to a worse end, then was outwardly borne in countenance and shew: and some matters of chance, were taken as done of purpose. Therefore the Bishop of Salisbury called Iohn Wal­tham, who was also Treasourer of England, made a grievous complaint of this attempt, to Thomas Arundel Archbishop of Yorke, and Lord Chancellour; affirming, that if upon every light pretence, the Citizens might bee suffered in this sort to in­sult upon the Bishops, without pu­nishment, [Page 71] without reproofe and blame, they would bring into a ha­zard, not onely the dignity and state, but the liberty also of the whole Church: did they not lately take upon them the punishment of adulteries, and other crimes appertaining to Ecclesiasticall jurisdiction? ma­liciously alleaging, that the Bishops and their Officers, either being in­famous for those vices themselves, did winck at the same in others: or else by covetous commutation, did rather set them to sale, then carefully represse them. Did they not rudely and unreverently breake open the doores upon the Archbishop of Can­terbury, and interrupt his procee­dings against Iohn Astone, an open follower of Wickliffe? and doe wee thinke that this is the last indignity that they will offer? no surely, nor yet the least: and if this boldnesse bee not beaten downe, our authority will fall into open contempt▪ and scorne, and bee made a common foote ball, for every base Citizen to [Page 70] [...] [Page 71] [...] [Page 72] spurne at. Hereupon they went to­gether to the King, and so incensed his displeasure against the Londo­ners, (being prepared thereto by former provocations) that hee was in the mind to make spoile of the City, and utterly to destroy it. But being perswaded to some more mo­deration: in revenge, first hee caused the Major and Sheriffes, and many of the chiefe Citizens to bee appre­hended, and committed to divers severall Prisons: then hee ceazed all the liberties of the City into his hands▪ and ordained, that no Major should any more bee elected, but that the King should at his pleasure ap­point a Warden and Governour over the City. This office was first com­mitted to Sir Edward Darlington: who for his gentlenesse towards the Citizens, was shortly after re­moved, and Sir Bauldwike Radington placed in his roome. Also the King was induced, or rather seduced by the Archbishop of Yorke Lord Chan­cellour, to remove the Tearmes and [Page 73] Courts: to wit, the Chancery, the Exchequer, the Kings bench, the hamper, and the Common pleas, from London, to bee kept at Yorke, where the same continued from Mid-sommer in the yeare 1393. un­till Christmasse next following, to the great hinderance and decay of the City of London. At the last, the King upon earnest intreaty of the Duke of Lancaster, and the Duke of Glo­cester, called the Londoners before him at Windsore: where having first terrified them with the presence and shew of a great number of ar­med men) hee caused all the privi­ledges of the City, both old and new, to bee brought forth, whereof hee restored some, and restrained the rest: yet the Londoners were not fully restored to favour; neither recovered they at that time, either the person or dignity of their Ma­jor. Shortly after, the King went to London: at whose comming the Ci­tizens changed all their griefe in­to gladnesse (as the common sort [Page 74] is without measure in both) enter­taining him with such joyfull tri­umphes and rich presents, as if it had beene the day of his coronation. They supposed with these great curtesies and costs to have satisfied his displeasure; but they found them­selves farre deceived: for they were not fully restored to their liberties againe, untill they had made fine to pay unto the King tenne thousand pounds. Thus did the Londoners manifest in themselves, a strange di­versity of disposition, both licen­tiously to commit offence, and pa­tiently to endure punishment; ha­ving rashnesse and rage so tempered with obedience, that they were easi­ly punished, who could not possibly be ruled. Yet for this cause, so soone as first occasion did serve against the King; they shewed themselves, ei­ther his earnest enemies, or faint friends.

King Richard in the nineteenth yeare of his raigne, passed the Seas to Calis: the French King also came [Page 75] downe to Ard: betweene which two Townes, a place was appoin­ted, and tents erected for both the Kings to meet. After large expences on both sides, and great honour done by the one King to the other: a surcease of armes was concluded betweene them for thirty years: and King Richard tooke to wife Lady I­sabel, the French Kings Daughter, be­ing not above seven or eight yeares old. The Duke of Glocester was so offended; both with this friendship, and affinity, that hee lost all manner of patience: exclaiming, that it was more meet to bee in armes, then in amity with the Frenchmen, who being inferiour to the English in courage, did alwayes over-reach them in craft, and being too weake for Warre, did many times prevaile by peace: that now they had got into their hands, many Townes and Holds, appertaining to the Crowne of England, they were willing to conclude a peace, to exclude the King thereby from his possessions: [Page 76] but whensoever occasion should change for their advantage, they would bee then as ready to start from the friendship, as at that present they were to strike it: that the French Kings Daughter, being but a child, was very unmeet for the marriage of King Richard, as well for dispari­ty of age, as for that the King had no issue by his first wife, and was not like to have any by this, except (perhaps) in his old and whithe­red yeares. When the Duke saw, that with these motives hee did no­thing prevaile, hee subordned the Londoners, to make petition to the King, that seeing there was peace with France, hee would release them of the Subsidy which they had gran­ted to him in regard of those warres. This suite was instantly followed, and much perplexed the King, untill the Duke of Lancaster declared to the people, that the King had beene at the charge and dispence of three hundred thousand pounds in his voyage into France, for the pro­curing [Page 77] of this peace: whereupon they were pacified, and desisted from their demand.

The yeare following, 1397. Guido Earle of Saint Pauls, was sent into Eng­lan by Charles King of France, to vi­site and salute in his name, King Ri­chard, and Queene Isabel his wife, the French Kings Daughter. To this Earle, the King did relate, with what fervency the Duke of Glo­cester contended to make distur­bance of the peace betweene Eng­land and France, how, because his mind was not therein followed, hee moved the people to seditious attempts, bending himselfe wholly to maintaine discord and disquiet, rather in his owne Countrey then not at all. Hee further reported what stiffe strifes, in former times, the Duke had stirred▪ which, how­soever they were done, yet as they were declared, they sounded very odious and hard. When the Earle heard this, hee presently answered, that the Duke was to dangerous a sub­ject [Page 78] to bee permitted to live: that greatnesse was never safe, if it grow excessive and bold: that the King must not affect the vaine commen­dation of clemency, with his owne perill: and that it touched him both in honour to revenge the disgraces which hee had received, and in po­licy to prevent the dangers which hee had cause to feare. These words so sharpened the Kings displeasure, that from thenceforth hee busied his braines in no one thing more, then how to bring the Duke to his end. Now hee beganne to pry more narrowly into his demeanour: to watch his words: to observe actions: and alwayes to interpret them to the worst, framing himselfe to many vaine and needlesse feares. Often­times hee would complaine of him to the Duke of Lancaster, and the Duke of Yorke, how fierce and vio­lent hee was in his speeches, and crosse to him in all matters. The Dukes would make answer that the Duke of Glocester their brother, was [Page 79] indeed more hot and vehement then they did commend: yet his fiercenesse was joyned with faith­fulnesse, and his crossenesse procee­ded from a care, least the Common-wealth should decrease either in honour, or in possessions: and there­fore the King had neither need to feare, nor cause to dislike.

About that time, the Dukes of Lancaster and of Yorke withdrew themselves from the Court, to their private Houses, the Duke of Gloce­ster also went to ly at Plashey, neere Chelmsford in Essex: upon advan­tage of which seperation, the King stood distracted in mind, betweene feare to defer, and shame to avow the destruction of the Duke, least hee might happily bee disappointed by the one, or dishonoured by the o­ther. Hereupon hee entred into counsaile with Iohn Holland, Earle of Huntington, his halfe brother: and Thomas Mowbray, Earle of Not­tingham, how the Duke of Glocester might, be suppressed or oppressed [Page 80] rather, the cruelty which was but wavering in the King, yea wanting by nature, was soone confirmed by evill advise: and being once inclined to bloud, hee did not faile, either of examples of lewd action to follow, or direction of cruell Counsaile what to doe: so the plot was contrived, and according thereto, the King and the Earle of Nottingham rode together into Essex, as though it were to disport themselves in hun­ting: when they were in the midst of the Forrest, the Earle made stay and the King passed forth with a small and unsuspitious company to the Duke lying at Plashey: there hee stayed dinner: and then pretending occasion of present returne, hee de­sired the Duke to accompany him to London, the faire intreaty of a Prince, is a most forcible command: therefore the Duke supposing that onely to bee inte [...]ded indeed, which was pretended in shew, went to horse-back with the King, taking such small attendance, as upon the [Page 81] sudden could bee in a readinesse, and appointing the rest to come after him to London. So they rode toge­ther using much familiar talke by the way, untill they came neere the place of await: then the King put his horse forward, and the Duke com­ming behind, was suddenly inter­cepted and stayed, crying aloud, and calling to the King for his helpe: the King continued his jour­ney as though hee had not heard: and the Duke was violently carried to the Tham [...]s, and t [...]ere shipped in a vessell layed for the purpose, and from thence conveyed over to Ca­lis.

When the King came to London, hee caused the Earle of Warwick also to bee arrested and sent to prison, the same day that hee had invited him to dinner, and shewed good countenance, and promised to bee a gracious Lord unto him. Vpon the like dissembled shew, the Earle of Arundel, and his Sonne, and cer­taine others were arrested also, and [Page 82] committed to prison in the Ile of Wight.

The common people upon the apprehending of these three Noble­men, whom they chiefely, and al­most onely favoured, were in a great confusion and tumult; and there wanted but a head to draw them to sedition: every man sorrowed, mur­mured, and threatned, and daring no further, stood waiting for one to lead them the way: all being ready to follow that, which any one was loath to beginne. The Duke of Lan­caster and of Yorke gathered a strong army, and came therewith to Lon­don, where they were readily re­ceived by the Citizens, although the King had commanded the contra­ry: but this seemed to bee done, ra­ther for guard to themselves, then regard to any others.

The King all this time, kept at a Village called Helhame, within foure miles of London, having about him a great power of armed men, which hee had gathered out of [Page 83] Cheshire and Wales: and to pacifie the common people, hee caused to bee proclaimed, that the Lords were not apprehended upon old displeasures, but for offences lately committed, for which they should bee appea­led by order of Law, and receive o­pen triall, in the Parliament next following: the like message was sent to the Duke of Lancaster, and the Duke of Yorke, lying at London: to whom the King made faith, for the safety of their persons, and in­demnity of their goods, and that no­thing should bee attempted without their privity and advice: all this was as rashly believed, as it was craftily given out: whereupon the Dukes dissembled their feares, and dis­solved their forces, and remai­ned in expectancy what would en­sue.

A little before the feast of Saint Michael, the Parliament beganne at London, wherein Sir Iohn Bushie, Sir William Bagot, and Sir Henry Greene, were principall agents for [Page 84] the Kings purpose. These were then in all the credites and authority with the King, and his chiefest Schoole-masters both of cruelty and deceit: they were proud, arrogant, and am­bitious, and upon confidence of the Kings favour, professed enemies to men of ancient Nobility; to the end, that being lately start up, they might become more famous by maintai­ning contention with great persons. And first, by their importuned tra­vaile, all the Charters of pardon, granted by the King, were in this Parliament annulled and revoked. Then the Prelates did constitute Sir Henry Percie their Procuratour, and departed the house, because they might not bee present in judgement of bloud. Lastly, the Earle of Arun­del, and the Earle of Warwick were arraigned; and for the same offences, for which they had beene pardoned (namely for encroaching to them­selves Royall power in judging to death Simon Burly, Iohn Berneis, and others, without the Kings consent) [Page 85] were condemned to bee hanged, drawne, and quartered: but the King so moderated the severity of this sentence, that the Earle of Arundel was onely beheaded, and the Earle of Warwick committed to per­petuall imprisonment in the Ile of Man.

The Duke of Glocester, was so greatly favoured, that it was thought a point both of policy and peace, not to bring him to his open answer, but to put him to death secretly: so hee was strangled under a feather bed at Calis by the Earle of Nottingham, be­ing then Earle Marshall: which death, howsoever he deserved; yet dying as hee did not called, nor heard, he died as guiltlesse.

In this same Parliament, Thomas Arundel Archbishop of Canter­bury was also accused, for execu­ting the commission against Michael De-la-poole, Earle of Suffolke: for which cause, his temporalties were seazed; his lands and goods forfei­ted, as well in use as in possession [...] [Page 86] and hee himselfe was adjudged to exile, and charged to depart the Realme, within six weekes then next ensuing. So hee went into France, where afterwards, hee be­came a principall meane of the revolt which followed. Also the Lord Cobham was exiled into the Ile of Gernsey: and Sir Reinold Cobham was condemned to death, not for entring into any attempt against the King, but because he was appointed by the Lords to bee one of his Governours, and of his Counsaile, in the 11. yeare of his raigne.

Now the King falsely supposing, that hee was free from all dangers, and that the humour against him, was cleane purged and spent, con­ceived more secret contentment, then hee would openly bewray; as more able to dissemble his joy, then conceale his feare: being so blinded and bewitched with continuall cu­stome of flatteries, that hee percei­ved not, that the state of a Prince is never stablished by cruelty and [Page 87] craft▪ On the other side, the Com­mon people were much dismayed, having now lost those whom they accompted their onely helpes, and their onely hopes, both for their private affaires, and for supporting the state: and because these mishaps happened unto them, for maintaining a cause of common dislike, the peo­ples stomack was stirred thereby to much hate and heart-burning against the King. And to make their deaths the more odious, the Earle of Arun­del was reputed a Martyr, and Pil­grimages were dayly made to the place of his buriall: the rumour also was current but without either au­thour or ground, that his head was miraculously fastened againe to his body: this whilest all men affirmed, and no man knew, the King caused the corps to bee taken up, and view­ed, tenne dayes after it was interred: and finding the same to bee fabu­lous, hee caused the ground to bee paved where the Earle was laid, and all mention of his buriall to [Page 88] bee taken away, forbidding publikely any such speeches of him afterwards to bee used. But this restraint raised the more: and they, who if it had bin lawfull, would have said nothing, being once forbidden, could not forbeare to talke. It was also con­stantly reported, that the King was much disquieted in his dreames with the Earle, who did often seeme to appeare unto him, in so terrible and truculent manner, that breaking his fearefull sleepe, hee would curse the time that ever hee knew him.

1398.In the one and twenty yeare of the raigne of King Richard, Henry Earle of Darby, was created Duke of Hereford: at which time the King created foure other Dukes: to wit, Duke of Aumerle, who was before Earle of Rutland: Duke of Southrey, who was before Earle of Kent: Duke of Excester, who was before Earle of Huntington: and Duke of Norfolke, who was before Earle of Nottingham. This degree of ho­nour long time after the conquest [Page 89] of the Normans (whose chiefest Rulers had no higher title) was ac­compted too great for a subject to beare: the fourme of the Common­wealth, being framed by the Vi­ctours, farre from equality of all, and yet the King excepted without eminency of any. At the length King Edward the third created his eldest Sonne Edward Duke of Corn [...] ­wall, and made this honour heredi­tary, conferring it unto many: since which time, divers Princes of his land have beene either put, or kept, or hazarded from their estate, by men of that quality and degree. The King likewise created the Countesse of Norfolke, Dutchesse of Norfolke: the Earle of Sommerset, Marquesse of Sommerset: the Lord Spencer, Earle of Glocester: the Lord Nevill, Earle of Westmerland: the Lord Scroupe, Earle of Wiltshire, and the Lord Thomas Darcy his Steward, Earle of Worcester. Among these, hee made division of a great part of the lands of the Duke of [Page 90] Glocester, and of the Earles of Arun­del and Warwick: supposing by this double liberality of honour and pos­sessions, to have purchased to him­selfe most firme friendships: but bought friends, for the most part, are seldome either satisfied or sure: and like certaine Ravens, in Arabia, so long as they are full, doe yeeld a plea­sant voice: but being empty, doe make a horrible cry.

Now the Duke of Hereford raised his desires, together with his digni­ties, and either upon disdaine, at the undeserved favour and advance­ment of some persons about the King: or upon dislike, that the King was so dishonourably both abused and abased by them: or else (perhaps) upon desire, to manifest his owne sufficiencie in matters of controule­ment and direction: being in fa­miliar discourse with Thomas Mow­bray Duke of Norfolke, hee brake into complaint, how the King re­garded not the Noble Princes of his bloud, and Peeres of the Realme, [Page 91] and by extremities used to some, discouraged the rest from inter­medling in any publique affaires: how instead of these hee was wholly governed by certaine new-found and new-fangled favorites, vulgar in birth, corrupt in qualities, [...]aving no sufficiency either of councell for peace, or of courage for warre; who being of all men the most unhonest, and the most unable, with hateful­nesse of the one, and contempt of the other, were generally despised in all the Realme: that hereby, First, the honour of the Kings person was much blemished; for ungrate and ungratious adherents are alway the way to hatred and contempt. Se­condly, the safety of his state might bee endangered; for extraordinary favour to men apparently of weake or bad desert, doth breed insolency in them▪ and discontentment in o­thers, two dangerous humours in a Common-wealth. Thirdly, the dignity of the Realme was much empaired: whose fortune and va­lour [Page 92] being guided by the ill chance of such unlucky leaders, stood ne­ver in the like Tearmes of doubt and distresse; so that matters of peace were tumultuous and uncertaine, and atchievements of warre were never brought to honourable con­clusion: that Alexander Severus would have smoaked such sellers of smoake; that Xerxes would have pulled their skinne over their eares; and high time it was, that the King should looke unto them: for the No­bility grew out of heart, the Com­mons out of hope, and all the peo­ple fell to a discontented murmu­ring. And this hee said (as hee said) not for any grudge, but for griefe and good will: and therefore desired the Duke, who was one of the privy Councell, and well heard with the King, to discover unto him these de­formities and dangers, that by repai­ring the one, hee might happily repell the other.

These words procured to the Duke of Hereford ▪ both great of­fence, [Page 93] and great glory: at the deli­very whereof, the Duke of Norfolke made shew of good liking, and pro­mise of sincere dealing. And in­deed, if they had beene as faithfully reported by him, and by the King as friendly taken, as they were faith­fully and friendly meant, many mischiefes might have beene avoi­ded: but both of these did faile: for the Duke of Norfolke although in former times he had taken part with the Lords, yet afterwards, being de­sirous to bee accounted rather a­mong the great men, then the good, hee made sale of his honour, to main­taine his pleasure, and continue him­selfe in grace with the King; to which hee was altogether inthralled: inso­much, that the murthering of the Duke of Glocester, and the execu­tion of the Earle of Arundel, was to his charge especially committed: and supposing upon this occasion to make a free hold of his Princes fa­vour, hee grievously aggravated these speeches in reporting them, and yet [Page 90] [...] [Page 91] [...] [Page 92] [...] [Page 93] [...] [Page 94] cunningly too: with many lies in­termixing some truths, or making the truth much more then it was. Againe, the King not enduring the search of his soares, did bend his mind rather to punish the bold­nesse, then examine the truth of these reproofes: his eares being so distempered with continuance of flattery, that hee accompted all sharp that was sound, and liked one­ly that which was presently plea­sant, and afterwards hurtfull. Thus wee may dayly observe, that no strange accident doth at any time happen, but it is by some meanes fore­shewed, or foretould: but because these warnings are oftentimes ei­ther not marked, or misconstrued, or else contemned, the events are accompted inevitable and the admo­nitions vaine.

The King being in this sort touched by the one Duke, and tick­led by the other, was not resolved upon the suddaine, what to doe▪ therefore hee assembled his Councell [Page 95] and called the two Dukes before him, and demanded of the Duke of Norfolke, if he would openly avouch that which hee had suggested in se­cret. The Duke seeing it was now no time for him, either to shrinke or shuffle in his tale, with a bold and confident courage repeated all that before hee had reported. But the Duke of Hereford could not bee borne downe by countenance, where his cause was good: and therefore after a short silence, where­by hee seemed rather amazed at the strangenesse of this matter, then a­bashed at the guilt, hee made low obeysance to the King, and greatly both thanked and commended him, that hee had not given hasty credite to matters of such tender touch, as his griefe might have borne out the blame of rashnesse in revenge; desi­ring him to continue yet a while, the respite of his displeasure, and to reserve his judgement free for in­different audience. Then he declared in order, what speech had passed [Page 96] from him, upon what occasion, and to what end: all the rest hee stoutly denied, affirming, that it was falsely surmised by his Adversary, either upon malice to pick a quarrell; or upon sycophancy to pick a thanke, and that thereupon hee was untrue, unjust, a forger of slanderous and seditious lies, whereby hee treache­rously indevoured to seduce the King to destroy the Nobility, and to raise disturbance within the Realme: and this hee offered to prove upon him (if the King would per­mit) by the stroake of a speare and by dint of sword. The Duke of Nor­folkes stomack not used to beare scorne; could not disgest these Tearmes of disgrace: whereupon hee stiffely stood to his first imputation: & for maintenance thereof, he accep­ted, and also desired the combate. The King would some other wayes have quieted this contention, but the Dukes would agree to no other kind of agreement: and thereupon threw downe their gloves one against the [Page 97] other for gages. The King seeing their obstinacy, granted them the battaile, and assigned the place at the City of Coventry, in the Moneth of August then next insuing: where in the meane time, hee caused a sump­tuous Theater, and Lists royall to bee prepared.

At the day of combate, the two Dukes came, well handed with No­blemen and Gentlemen of their li­nage. The Duke of Aumerle for that day high Constable, and the Duke of Surrey for the same time and action, high Marshall of England, entred into the Lists, with a great troupe of men apparelled in silke sondale, embroide­red with silver, every man having a tipped staff to keep the field in order. About the time of prime, the Duke of Hereford came to the Barriers of the Lists mounted upon a white courser, barbed with blew and greene velvet, embroidered gorgeously with Swans and Antilops of Goldsmiths worke, armed at all points, and his sword drawne in his hand. The Constable [Page 98] and Marshall came to the barriers, and demanded of him, who hee was? Hee answered: I am Henry Duke of Hereford, and am come to doe my devoire against Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke, as a Traytour to God, the King, the Realme, and mee. Then hee sware upon the Evange­lists, that his quarrell was right, and upon that point desired to enter the lists, then hee put up his sword, pul­led downe his beavier, made a crosse on his fore-head, and with speare in hand, entred into the Lists, and there lighted from his horse, and sate downe in a chaire of greene velvet, which was set in a traverse of greene and blew velvet at the one end of the listes: and so expected the com­ming of his enemy: soone after King Richard entred the field with great pompe both in bravery and traine: hee had in his company, the Earle of Saint Paul, who came purposely out of France to see this combate tried; he was attended with all the Noble Peeres of the Realme, and guarded [Page 99] with tenne thousand men in armes, for feare of any suddaine or intended tumult.

When hee was placed on his stage, which was very curiously and richly set forth, a King at armes made proclamation in the name of the King, and of the high Constable, and of the Marshall, that no man, except such as were appointed to order and marshall the field, should touch any part of the listes, upon paine of death. This proclamation being ended, another Herald cried: Be­hold here, Henry of Lancaster Duke of Hereford, appellant, who is en­tred into the listes Royall, to doe his devoire, against Thomas Mow­bray Duke of Norfolke defendant, upon paine to bee accompted false and recreant. The Duke of Nor­folke was hovering on horseback at the entry of the listes, his horse be­ing barbed with crimson velvet, em­broadered richly with lions of silver; and mulbery trees: and when hee had made his oath, before the Constable [Page 100] and Marshall, that his quarrell was just and true, hee entred the field boldly, crying aloud, God aid him that hath the right: then hee lighted from his horse and sat downe in a Chaire of crimson velvet, curtained a­bout with red and white Damaske, and placed at the other end of the Lists. The Lord Marshall viewed both their speares, to see that they were of equall length: the one speare hee carried himselfe to the Duke of Hereford, and sent the other to the Duke of Norfolke by a Knight. This done a Herrald proclaimed, that the traverses and chaires of the combat­tants should bee removed, comman­ding them in the Kings name, to mount on horseback, and addresse themselves to the encounter, the Dukes were quickly horsed, and clo­sed their beavieres, and cast their speares into the rests. Then the trum­pets sounded, and the Duke of Here­ford set forth towards his enemy, about six or seaven paces; but before the Duke of Norfolke beganne to put [Page 101] forward, the King cast downe his Warder, and the Herralds cried ho: then the King caused the Dukes speares to bee taken from them, and commanded them to forsake their horses, and returne againe to their chaires: where they remained above two long houres, whilst the King de­liberated with his Councell what was fittest to bee done. At last, the Herralds cried silence: and Sir Iohn Borcy a Secretary of State, with a loud voice, read the sentence and deter­mination of the King and his Coun­cell out of a long roule: wherein was contained, that Henry of Lancaster Duke of Hereford, appellant, and Tho­mas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke, de­fendant, had honourably appeared that day within the Lists Royall, and declared themselves valiant and hardy Champions; being not only rea­dy, but forward and desirous to dare in the battell: but because this was a matter of great consequence and im­port, the King with the advice of his Councell, thought it meet to take the [Page 102] same into his owne hands: and there­upon had decreed, that Henry Duke of Hereford, because hee had displea­sed the King, and for divers other considerations, should within 15. dayes next following, depart out of the Realme, and not to returne du­ring the Tearme of tenne yeares, without the Kings especiall licence, upon paine of death.

When this judgement was heard, a confused noise was raised among the people, some lamenting either the desert, or the injury of the Duke of Hereford, whom they exceeding­ly favoured: others laughing at the conceit of the King: first in cau­sing, and afterwards in frustrating so great an expectation: wherein hee seemed to doe not much unlike Ca­ligula; who lying in France with a great army neere the Sea shoare, gave the signe of battell, set his men in array, marched forth as if it had beene to some great piece of service and suddenly commanded them all to gather cockles.

[Page 103]Then the Herralds cried againe, ô Yes: and the Secretary did read on, how the King had likewise or­dained, that Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke, because hee had sowen sedition, by words whereof hee could make no proofe should a­void the Realme of England, and never returne againe, upon paine of death: and that the King would take the profits and revenues of his lands, untill hee had received such summes of money as the Duke had taken up, for wages of the garrison of Ca­lis, which was still unpaid: and that the King prohibited, upon paine of his grievous displeasure, that any man should make suit or intreaty to him, on the behalfe of either of these two Dukes.

Those sentences being in this sort pronounced, the King called the two exiles before him, and tooke of them an oath, That they should not converse together in forraine Regions, nor one willingly come in place where the other was: fearing [Page 104] (as it was like) least their Common discontentment should draw them, first to reconcile­ment, and afterward to revenge. But this policy was over weake for this purpose: for oaths are commonly spurned aside, when they lye in the way, either to ho­nour or revenge: and if their u­nited forces was so much to bee regarded, their seperate pow­ers was not altogether to bee con­temned.

Therefore, the latter Prin­ces of this Realme, have with more safety wholly abolished the use of abjuration and exile: and doe either by death extin­guish the power, or by pardon alter the will of great Offen­ders, from entring into despe­rate and dangerous attempts: which men in misery and dis­grace, have more vehemency to beginne, and more obstinacy to continue.

When the Samnites had once [Page 105] so enclosed the Romane Legions within certain streights, that they left them neither space to fight, nor way to fly: but without force enforced them to yeeld: they sent to Heren­nius Pontius, an aged Ruler of their state, for his advise, what were best for them to doe: his answer was, that the Romans should be permitted to dep [...]rt, without any hurt, losse or scorne. This pleased not such as were either covetous for spoyle, or cruell for blood: and therefore they sent un­to him the second time, who then returned answer, that the Romans should be put to the sword, and not one man suffered to escape. The contrariety of these two counsels, brought the old man into suspition of dotage: but he comming in per­son to the Campe, maintained both to be good: the first whereof (which he thought best) would by unexpected favour, provoke the Romans to a perpetuall friendship: the second would deferre the warres for many yeares, wherein the enemies should [Page 106] hardly recover strength: third coun­saile there was none that safely might be followed. Yes (said the Samnites) to grant them their lives, yet with such conditions of spoyle and shame, as the lawes of victory doe lay upon them. This is the way (answered Herennius) which nei­ther winneth friends, nor weakneth enemies: but will much encrease the fury against us, and nothing diminish the force. And even so, in matters of more particularity, that course of punishment is out of course, which doth neither reclaime the mind of men, nor restraine the might from mischievous endeavours. But again to our purpose.

The Duke of Norfolke, having now got a fall, where he thought to take his rest, repented his enterprise, and utterly condemned his light conceit of the Kings lightnesse, and so with extreame griefe and anguish of mind, hee departed out of the Realme into Almaine, and from thence travelled to Venice; where [Page 107] through violence of thought and dis­contentment, in short time he ended his d [...]yes. This sentence of banish­ment was given against him the same day of the yeare, wherein the Duke of Glocester by his wicked meanes was strangled to death at Ca­lice.

The Duke of Hereford tooke his leave of the King at El [...]ham, who there stroke away foure yeares of his banishment, and even offered himselfe to be fawned upon and thanked, for so odious a benefit. And this infortunate adventure hee neither bare out vain gloriously, nor yet tooke impatiently: but in the midst of his misery, retained still his reputation and honour; shewing no signe of sorrow or submisnesse in his countenance, nor letting fall any in­temperate and unseemly word. The people as he departed, by heaps floc­ked about him, some to see, and some to salute him: lamenting his depar­ture in such sort, as though their on­ly light and delight did then forsake [Page 108] them: not sparing to exclaime, that it was against the Law of Armes, a­gainst the custome of the Realme, and against all right whatsoever, that he should be exiled, who had done his honourable endeavour for the maintenance of his appeale. This affection was the more excessive, for that the Duke was driven into exile by occasion of his liberall speeches, a­gainst the most hatefull persons in all the Realme: and being the only no­ble man then alive, of the popular fa­ction, the love was wholly accumu­lated upon him, which was before divided among the rest. And thus the Duke leaving England, tooke shipping and passed the Seas to Ca­lice, and from thence went into France: where he was honourably entertained by Charles the French King, and found such favour, that hee should have taken to wife the onely daughter of Iohn Duke Berrie, Vn­cle to the King of France, but King Richard fearing the sequel, if the fa­vour which was borne to the Duke [Page 109] of Hereford within the Realme, should be strengthned with so great affinity in France, cast such stops in the way, that the marriage did not proceed.

This yeare the Lawrell trees withe­red, almost throughout the Realme, & afterwards against all expectation, re­covered life and flourished againe. The same yeare in Christmasse holy­dayes a deepe River which runneth betweene Snedlistorie & Hareswood, neare to Bedford, suddenly stayed the streame: so that for three miles in length, the channell was left dry, and no course of water did hinder pas­sage on foot. This was afterwards in­terpreted to presage, the revolt of the people, and the division which happened the yeare following: to these wee may adde certaine o­ther prodegies, either forged in that fabulous age, or happening commonly and of course, are then onely noted, when any notable acci­dent doth ensue. When K. Richard brought his first wife out of Beam [...], [Page 110] she had no sooner set foot within this Land, but such a tempest did forth­with arise, as had not beene seene many yeares before: whereby di­vers ships within the haven were quashed to peices, but especially, and first of all, the ship wherein the Queene was carried, this was the rather observed, because such stiffe stormes were likewise stirring, when the King brought his second wife out of France: wherein many ships perished, and a great part of the Kings fardage was lost. At New-castle upon Tine, as two shipwrights were squaring a piece of Timber, wheresoever they hewed, blood issued forth in great abundance. At one of the Kings palaces, flyes swar­med so thicke, that they obscured the ayre: these fought together most fiercely, so that sackfuls lay dead upon the ground, and this continued so long, that scarce the third part of them (as it was thought) remained alive, many like accidents are recor­ded of that time; but I will maine­taine [Page 111] neither the truth of them, nor what they did pretend: being a matter wherein most men are ra­ther superstitious, then not credulous, and doe oftentimes repute common occurrences to be ominous, when any strange event doth ensue. Yet as I am loath to avouch any vaine and trifling matter, so dare I not detract all truth from things anciently re­ported; although done in an age wherein was some delight in lying, many doe suppose, that those things which are fatally allotted, though they never be avoyded, yet some­times are foreshewen: not so much that we may prevent them, as that wee should prepare our selves a­gainst them.

In the two and twenty yeare of the raigne of K. Richard, Iohn of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster dyed, and was buried, on the north-side of the high altar, of the Cathedrall Church of S. Paul in London, he was a man advised and wary in his passages of life, liking better safe courses with [Page 112] reason, then happy by chance: of his owne glory, hee was neither negli­gent, nor ambitiously carefull: to­wards the King hee carried himselfe in termes honourable enough for a moderate Prince, and yet not so plausible as a vaine man would desire; whereby there never happened to him any extraordinary matter, either in prejudice or preferment. After his death, the Duchie of Lancaster did in right devolue to the Duke of Hereford, his eldest sonne: but the King (as the nature of man is inclina­ble, to hate those whom he hath har­med) seazed all the Lands and goods which appertained to the Duke of Lancaster, into his owne hands, and determined to perpetuate the banish­ment of Duke Henry his sonne: re­voking the Letters Patents, which were graunted to him at his depar­ture: whereby his generall Attur­nies were enabled to prosecute his causes, and sue Liverie of any inheri­tance: which during his exile might fall unto him, his homage being respi­ted [Page 113] for a reasonable fine. The King supposed his estate more safe, by the weaknesse and want of the Duke, whom he had now in some jealousie and doubt: but these violent deal­ings were meanes rather to provoke his mischiefes, then to prevent them; for by injurious suppressing of the Dukes greatness, he greatly augmen­ted the same.

Edmund Duke of Yorke, the Kings only Vncle which remained alive▪ had hitherto enforced his patience, to endure many things against his liking▪ but now either in disdaine of this in­dignity, or in distrust both of his own safety and of the common tranquillity of the Realme, he retyred himselfe with the Duke of Aumerle his sonne, to his house at Langley: supposing privatenesse to be the best defence, both from danger and blame, wher neither the king had judgement to discerne, nor any about him had, either heart or honesty to admonish him what was done amisse; where an honourable [Page 114] fame was held suspected, and a good life more in hazard then a bad: pro­testing that none of these practises, were either devised by his counsaile, or done by his consent.

At this time, the whole frame of the state was much shaken, and mat­ters of great weight and moment did hang by a very slender thred. The King was plunged in pleasure and sloath: after whose example, others also (as men doe commonly con­forme their minds according to the Princes disposition) gave over themselves to delicacy and ease: whereby cowardise crept in, and shipwracke was made, both of man­hood and glory. The chiefest af­faires of state had been ordered for a long time, according to private respects, whereby the Common-wealth lost both the fat and the fa­vour, and seemed not at seasons and by degrees, but with a maine course, and at once to ruinate, and fall. The north parts were many times can­vased, and by small, yet often losses, [Page 115] almost consumed by the Scots: who had there taken many townes and castles, and defaced all the countrey with slaughter and spoyle. Like­wise the south parts were often­times wasted by the Frenchmen: and in France many strong holds were lost. It was also constantly af­firmed, that the King made agree­ment to deliver unto the King of France, the possession of Calice, and of other townes which hee held in those parts; but the performance thereof was resisted by the Lords: whether this were true o [...] surmised probably, as agreeable to the Kings loose government, I cannot cer­tainely affirme. As for Ireland, which in time of K. Edward the third, was kept in order and awe, by acquaint­ing the people with religion and ci­v [...]lity, and drawing them to delight in the plenty and pleasures of well reclaimed countries; whereby it yeelded to the Kings coffers thirty thousand pounds every yeare: it was then suffered to runne into waste, [Page 112] [...] [Page 113] [...] [Page 114] [...] [Page 115] [...] [Page 116] and the people by rudenesse became intractible: so that the holding ther­of charged the King, with the yearly dispence of thirty thousand markes. Many succours had beene sent into these severall countries; but scatte­ringly, and dropping, and never so many at once, as to fur [...]ish the wars fully. The King made some expedi­tions in his owne person, with great preparation and charge: but being once out of credit, whatsoever fell out well, was attributed to others; misfortunes were imputed onely to him. If any thing were happily at­chieved by some of the Nobility, it was by the Kings base hearted Para­sites, to whom military vertue was altogether unpleasant, so extenuated or depraved, or envied, that it was seldome rewarded, so much as with countenance and thankes: yea sometimes it procured suspicion and danger, the King being informed by a cunning kind of enemies, Com [...]menders, that to be a discreet and va­liant Commander in the field, was a [Page 117] vertue peculiar to a Prince; and that it was a perillous point, to have the name of a man of private estate, fa­mous for the same in every mans mouth. Hereupon, few sought to rise by vertue and valour, the rea­dier way was, to please the pleasant humour of the Prince. Likewise matters of peace, were managed by men of weakest sufficiency, by whose councell either ignorant or corrupt, the destruction of the best hearted Nobility, was many times attemp­ted, and at the last wrought. The profits and revenues of the Crowne were said to bee let to farme, the King making himselfe Landlord of his Realme, and challenging no great priviledge by his Raigne, but only a dissolute and uncontrouled life. Great summes of money were yearely ra­ther exacted from the subjects, then by them voluntarily granted: wher­of no good did ensue, but the mainte­nance of the Kings private delights, & the advancement of his hatefull fa­vorites. To these he was somewhat a­bove [Page 118] his power liberall: for which cause, hee was faine to borrow, beg, and extort in other places: but hee purchased not so much love by the one, as hate by the other. Besides the ordinary tearmes of tenths and fifteenths, which were many times paid double in one yeare, divers new impositions were by him devised and put in use: sometimes exacting xii. d. of every person throughout the Realme: sometimes of every religious man and woman vi. s. viii. d. and of every secular Priest as much, and of every lay person married or sole, xii. d. Vnder the favourable tearme of benevolence, he wiped a­way from the people such heaps of money, as were little answerable to that free and friendly name. He bor­rowed in all places of the Realme great summes of money upon his privy Seals, so that no man of worth could escape his loane: but he sel­dome, and to few, returned payment againe.

This present yeare, he sent certain [Page 119] Bishops, and other personages of ho­nour, to all the shires and Corpora­tions within the Realme, to declare unto the people the Kings heavy dis­pleasures against them, for that they had beene abetters and complices of the Duke of Gloucester, and of the Earles of Arundell and Warwicke: and that the King was minded to make a roade upon them, as common enemies, except they would ac­knowledge their offence, and submit themselves to his mercy and grace. Hereupon, all the men of worth in every shire, and Towne-corporate, made their acknowledgement and submission in writing under their seales: and afterwards were faine to graunt unto the King such impor­table summes of money, to purchase againe his favour, as the land being al­ready greatly impoverished, they were hardly able to endure. Then were exacted of them strange and unaccustomed oathes, vvhich vvere put likevvise in vvriting under their seale. They vvere also compelled to [Page 120] set their hands and seales to blancke charts; wherein the King might af­terwards cause to be written what he would: so that all the wealth of the Realme was in a manner at his de­votion and pleasure. These and such like violences, were farre wide from the moderate government of King Henry the second: who maintaining great warres, and obtayning a larger dominion, then pertained at any o­ther time to this Realme of England, never demanded subsidie of his sub­jects: and yet his treasure after his death, was found to be nine hundred thousand pounds, besides his Iewels, and his plate.

In this sort the King bearing a heavie hand upon his subjects, and they againe a heavie heart against him, and being▪ withall a Prince weake in action, and not of valour sufficient to beare out his vices by might, the people at length resolved to revolt, and rather to runne into the hazard of a ruinous rebellion, then to endure safety joyned with [Page 121] slaverie: so they attended occasion, which shortly after was thus offered. The King received Letters of adver­tisement out of Ireland (which being priviledged from other venimous beasts, hath alwayes beene pestered with traytors) how the Barbarous Irish had cut in pieces his Garrison, and slaine Roger Mortimer Earle of March, (who had beene declared heyre apparent to the Crowne) exer­cising all the cruelty in wasting of the countrey, which wrath and rage of victory could incite a barbarous people to practise. This losse being great in it selfe, the hard affection of the people did much augment by re­port: whereupon the King delibera­ted, whether it were requisite that hee should undertake the warre in person, or commit it to Commanders of lower degree? Some perswaded him, that wholly to subdue Ireland, stood neither with policie, nor yet al­most with possibility: for if it were ful­ly & quietly possessed, some governor might hap to grow to that greatnesse, [Page 122] as to make himselfe absolute Lord thereof; and therefore it was better to hold it certaine by weake enemies, then suspected by mighty friends, and yet by what meanes should those bogges and those woods be over­come, which are more impregnable, then the walled Townes of other countries? then if the purpose were, only to represse the savage people, the warre was of no such weight, as should draw the King to stand in the field: and therfore he might stay in the West parts in England, and from thence make shew of the Princely puissance and state; neither ventu­ring his person without cause, and already at hand if need should re­quire. Others were of opinion, that to subdue and replenish Ireland, was a matter neither of difficulty nor danger: but both profitable and ho­nourable to the King, and to God very acceptable. For if credit might be given to ancient Histories, this Realme of England was once as insuperable with bogs and woods, [Page 123] as Ireland was then: but the Ro­man Conquerors kept not their pre­sidiarie Souldiers in idle garrison, whereby many times the mind grew mutinous, and the body diseased, and both unable for the labour and hardnesse of the field: but they held as well them, as the subdued Britains continually exercised, either in build­ing of townes in places of best ad­vantage; or in making of high wayes: or else in drayning and pa­ving of bogs: by which meanes the countrey was made fruitfull and ha­bitable, and the people learned the good manners, not rudely to repulse the flattering assaults of pleasure; preferring subjection with plenty, before beggerly and miserable liber­ty. That the same Romans also kept many larger Countries in quiet obe­dience, (so long as they were quiet among themselves) without either feare or danger of any Governours; first by dividing them into small Pro­vinces: Secondly by constituting in every province divers officers, as Lieu­tenants [Page 124] and Procurators, whereof one was able to restraine the other; the first having power over the bo­dies of the subjects, the second over their goods: thirdly, by changing these officers every yeare: which was too short a time to establish a so­veraignty: Lastly, by retaining at Rome, their wives and children, and whole private estate, as pledges for their true demeanour. That the dan­ger was rather to bee feared, least a weake enemy whilest he was con­temned, should gather strength, and be able to stand upon termes of with­standing: example here of happened when the Romans overcame this I­land: for many Britaines, who upon no conditions would abide bondage, withdrew themselves into the North parts of the land, and by maintaining their ancient custome of painting their bodies, were called of the Ro­mans, Picti: these were neglected along time, and held in scorne, as neither of force, nor of number to be thought worthy the name of ene­mies: [Page 125] but afterwards they confede­rated themselves with other people, and so sharpely assaulted the subdued Britaines, that being unable to resist, and the Romans shrinking from them, they were constrained to de­sire helpe of the Saxons, and so be­tweene their enemies and their aids, (being set as it were betwixt the bee [...]le and the blocke) they lost the possession of the best part of their land. That it was a pittifull policy for assurance of peace, to lay all waste as a wildernesse, and to have dominion over trees and beasts, and not over men. That hereby the King did loose the revenue of a fruitfull countrey, and the benefit of wealthy subjects, which are the surest treasure that a prince can have. That hereby al­so the majesty of his estate was much impaired: for (as Salomon saith) The honour of a king consisteth in the mul­titude of subjects. That the country be­ing unfurnished of people, was open to all opportunity of forrain enemies. That if none of these respects would [Page 126] move: yet the King was bound in duty to reduce those savages to the true worship of God, who did then either prophanely contemne him, or superstitiously serve him.

These reasons so weighed with the King, that hee gathered a mighty Army, determining to goe in person into Ireland, and to pacifie the coun­trey before his returne: but all his provision was at the charge of the sub­jects: and whereas in time of sedi­tion, a wise Prince will least grieve his people: as seeming to stand in some sort at their courtesie, and ha­ving to imploy their bodies beside; the King in peace no storer for war, was forced to offend, when he should have beene most carefull to winne favour. So about Whitsontide, hee set forth on his voyage with many men, and few souldiers; being a dissolute and untrained company, and out of all compasse of obedience, hee carried with him his whole treasure, and all the goods and ancient Iewels appertaining to the Crowne. In [Page 127] his company went the Duke of Au­merle, and the Duke of Exeter, and divers other noble men, and many Bishops, and the Abbot of Westmin­ster. Hee also tooke with him the sonnes of the Duke of Gloucester, and of the Duke of Hereford; whose favourers he chiefely feared.

When he came to Bristow, he was put into suspicion, (whether upon some likelihood, or meere malice) that Henry Piercy Earle of Nor­thumberland, and certaine others, en­tended some disloyall enterprise a­gainst him: and for that cause did not follow him into Ireland, but had fastned friendship with the King of Scots, upon purpose to retire them­selves into his countrey, if their at­tempts should faile. Hereupon the King sent message that the Earle should forthwith come unto him with all the power, that he could conveniently make. The Earle re­turned answer, that it was unnecessa­ry in respect of that service, to draw men from such distant places: for [Page 128] the Irish rebels were neither so many nor so mighty, but the King had strength at hand sufficient to suppresse them: that it was also dangerous to disfurnish the North-parts of their forces, and to offer opportunity to the Scottish Borderers, who were alwayes uncertaine friends in their extremities, and assured enemies upon advantage. The King seeing his com­mandement in these termes, both contemned and controuled, would not stand to reason the matter with the Earle, neither had he the reason to defer revenge, untill hee had full power to worke it: but presently in the violence of his fury, caused the Earle and his confederates to be pro­claimed traytors, and all their Lands and goods to be seized to his use. The Earle tooke grievously this disgrace, and determined to cure and close up this harme with the disturbance of the common state. And thus the King having feathered these arrowes a­gainst his owne brest, passed forth in his Iourney into Ireland.

[Page 129]This expedition at the first pro­ceeded and succeeded exceedingly well, and the King obtained many victories, even without battell, as leading his men to a slaughter rather then to a fight: for the savage Irish were not under one government, but were divided into many parti [...]lities and factions, and seldome did two or three parts joyne their Com­mon strength and study together: so whilest one by one did fight, all of them were either subdued or slaine. But these newes little rejoy­ced the Common people, they lusted not to listen thereto: their common talke was to recount their common grievances, to lay them together, and aggravate them by construction: every man more abounding in com­plaints then hee did in miseries. Al­so the Noble men (the principall ob­ject of cruelty) beganne to discourse both their private dangers, and the deformities of the State: and upon opportunity of the Kings absence, some of them did conspire to cut off [Page 130] that authority which would not bee confined, and to cast it upon some o­ther, who was most like to repaire that which King Richard had ruined: or if (said they) our power shall come short of so good a purpose, yet will wee sell him both our lives and lands with glory in the field, which with certainty in peace wee can­not enjoy: The onely man upon whom all men resolved, was Henry Duke of Hereford (whom since the death of his Father they called Duke of Lancaster) not at his owne mo­tion or desire, but because hee was generally esteemed meet: as being of the Royall bloud, and next by descent from males to the succession of the Crowne: one that had made honourable proofe of his vertues and valour: the onely man of note that remained alive, of those that before had stood in armes against the King for the behoofe of the Common-wealth: for which cause hee was deepely touched at that time both in honour and in state. This attempt [Page 131] pleased as possible to prove, and of necessity to be followed: whereup­on they secretly dispatched their let­ters to the Duke, solliciting his spee­dy returne into England, and decla­ring that as well for the benefit of the Realme, as for their owne particular safety, they were forced to use force against King Richard: that if it would please him to make the head, they would furnish him the body of an a­ble army, to expell the King from his unfortunate government, and to set­tle the possession of the Crowne in him, who was more apt and able to sustaine the same: that they would not provide him a base multitude onely, and they themselves helpe in bare wish [...]s and advise, but would al­so adjoyne their hands and their lives, so that the perill should be com­mon to all, the glory only his, if for­tune favoured the enterprise. These letters were conveyed by men crafty and bold, yet of sure credit, and in­ward in trust with the Duke: who passing into France, first associated [Page 132] unto them, Thomas Arundel late Archbishop of Canterbury, and at that time (whether deservedly or with­out cause) an exile in France: then they travelled by severall wayes, and in counterfeit attire to Paris, where all met at the House of one Clugney, where the Duke then sojourned. After some courtesies of course, with welcome on the one side, and thanks on the other, and joy of both: the Archbishop of Canterbury having obtained of the Duke privacy and si­lence, made unto him a solemne ora­tion in these words, or to this sense following.

Wee are sent unto you (right high and Noble Prince) from the chiefe Lords and States of our land, not to seeke revenge against our King upon private injury and displeasure: nor upon a desperate discontentment to set the State on fire: nor to procure the ambitious advancement of any particular person: but to open unto you the deformities and decayes of our broken estate, and to de­sire [Page 133] your aid, in staying the ruinous downefall of the same. The remem­brance of the honourable reputation that our Countrey hath borne, and the Noble acts which it hath atchie­ved, doth nothing else, but make the basenesse more bitter unto us, where­into it is new fallen. Our victorious armes have heretofore beene famous and memorable not onely within the bounds of our Ocean-Sea, and in the Ilands adjoyning unto us; but also in France, in Spaine, and in other parts of Europe, yea in Asia and in Africk, against the Infidels and Barbarians: so that all Christian Princes have beene either glad to imbrace our friendship or loath to provoke us to hostility. But now the rude Scots, whose spirits we have so many times broken & brought on their knees, do scornefully insult upon us: the naked and fugitive Irish, have shaked oft our shackles, and glutteth themselves up­on us, with massacres and spoiles: with these wee dayly fight, not for glory, but to live: insomuch as we are [Page 134] become a pitty to our friends, and a very jeast to our most base and con­temptible enemies. Indeed the King hath both sent and led great armies into these Countries, but in such sort, that they have much wasted the Realme with their maintenance: but neither revenged nor relieved it with their armes: and no mervaile, for all our diligent and discreet lea­ders (the very sinewes of the field) are either put to death, or banished, or else ly buried in obscurity and dis­grace: and the marshalling of all af­faires is committed (without any respect of sufficiency or desert) to the counsaile and conduct of those who can best apply themselves to the Kings youthfull delights. Among these ancient Nobility is accompted a vaine jeast; wealth, and vertue are the ready meanes to bring to destru­ction.

It grieves mee to speake, but it helpeth not, to hide that which eve­ry man seeth: our Ancestours lived in the highest pitch and perfection of [Page 135] liberty, but wee of servility; being in the nature not of subjects, but of ab­jects, and flat slaves; not to one in­tractable Prince onely, but to many proud and disdainefull favorites▪ not alwayes the same, but ever new: and no sooner have wee satisfied some, but fresh hungry Masters are streight wayes set upon us, who have more endammaged us by extortion and bribes, then the enemy hath done by the sword. What unusuall kinds of exactions are dayly put in practise? without either measure or end, & of­tentimes without need; or if any be, it proceedeth rather upon riotous ex­penses, then any necessity of honou­rable charge: and great summes of money are pulled and pilled from good subjects, to bee throwne away amongst unprofitable unthrifts. And if any man openeth his mouth against these extorted taxations, then either by feined imputation of capitall crimes, or by small matters aggrava­ted, or else by open cruelty and force, his life or liberty is forth with [Page 136] hazarded. It were too tedious, too odious, too frivolous to put you in mind of particular examples, as though your owne estate, and the la­mentable losse of your Vncle, and o­ther Noble friends, could bee forgot­ten▪ yea I suppose that there is no man of quality within the Realme, who either in his owne person, or in his neerest friends, doth not plainely per­ceive, that no man enjoyeth the safe­gard of his goods, and suerty of his body; but rich men in the one, and great men in the other are continual­ly endangered. This then is our case; but what is our remedy? we have en­dured, and we have entreated: but our patience have drawne more heavy burthens, and our complaints procu­red more bitter blowes: by the one, our livings, and our lives by the other are dayly devoured. And therefore we are now compelled to shake off our shoulders this importable yoke, and submit our selves to the sove­raignty of some more moderate and worthy person: not so much for the [Page 137] griefe of our miseries which are past, nor for the paine of our present di­stresses, as for feare of such dangers as are most like to ensue; for the King hath cut away the chiefe of the No­bility, and the Commons he hath pa­red to the quick, and still he harrieth us as a conquered Country: whereby we are laid bare to the havock of all our enemies, and utterly disabled, not only to recover that which is lost, but also to retain even that which is left. But to whom should we complaine? what succour, whose aid should we desire? you are the onely man, who in right should, and in wisedome can, and in goodnesse will (we hope) re­lieve us. For you are neerest to the King in bloud and therefore ought to have the rule of that which his weak­nesse cannot wield. Your yeares are well stayed from the light conceits of youth, and so spent, that all your a­ctions have made proofe of ability in government of greatest charge: no­thing past needeth excuse, and feare is vain for any thing to come. The pains [Page 138] and perils which heretofore you have undertaken for the benefit of your Countrey, putteth us also in good hope, that in these extremities you will not forsake us; wee are all as in a ship that is ready to sinke, as in a house that is ready to fall, and doe most humbly crave and call for your helpe, now or else never shew your selfe in favour of your Countrymen, to free us, to free your selfe, to free the whole State from these dangers and decayes, by taking into your hands the scepter and diademe of the Realme, and reducing againe the go­vernment thereof to a Princely free­dome; in combining the Soveraign­ty of one with the liberty of all. O­mit not this occasion, to set forth to the view of the World, as in a large field, and at free scope your vertue and courage, by relieving miserable wretches from their Oppressours: which action hath bin so highly ho­noured, that many Heathen men for the same, have beene accompted as Gods. This we are constrained to of­fer [Page 139] and intreat: this is both honoura­ble for you to accept, and easie to bee performed: and so much the more, in that no Prince, by any people have beene desired with greater affe­ction, nor shall bee with more duty obeyed.

The Duke entertained this speech with great moderation of mind, shewing himselfe neither disturbed thereat, nor excessive in joy. His answer concerning the King, was respective and well tempered; rather lamenting his weakenesse then bla­ming his malice. Concerning him­selfe hee spake so modestly, that hee seemed rather worthy of a King­dome, then desirous. The life (quoth hee) which hitherto I have led, hath alwayes beene free from ambitious attempts: and the stayednesse of my yeares, hath now setled my mind from aspiring thoughts: & experience of former dangers hath bred in mee a wary regard in such weighty pro­ceedings; for to cast a King out of state, is an enterprise not hastily to be [Page 140] resolved upon, nor easily affected: but suppose that matter not impossible; and perhaps not hard, yet the rate­nesse of that like precedents, will make the action seeme injurious to most men: and hee that shall attaine a Kingdome upon opinion of desert, doth charge himselfe with great expectation, and how honourably soever hee carry himselfe, shall never want his deadly Enviers: besides this, in civill dissentions the faith of the whole people is fleeting, and danger is to bee doubted from every particular person: so that it is possible that all may fall away, and impossible to beware of every one. Therefore I could rather wish to spend the course of my yeares which yet remaine in this obscure, yet safe and certaine state, then to thrust my selfe upon the pikes of those perils, which being once entred into, are dangerous to follow, and deadly to forsake: for in private attempts, a man may step and stop when hee please: but hee that aimeth at a Kingdome, hath no mid­dle [Page 141] course betweene the life of a Prince, and the death of a Traytour.

The Archbishop hearing this, did as vainely persist in importuning the Duke, as hee vainely seemed unwil­ling and strange. The state (said hee) wherein now you stand, is not so safe and certaine as you doe conceive. Indeed, by rejecting our request you shall avoid certaine dignity, and therewith uncertaine and contingent dangers; but you shall procure most certaine destruction both to your selfe and us. For this secret cannot bee kept long secret from the King: and even good Princes are nice in points of soveraignty, and beare a nimble care to the touch of that string: and it more hurteth a subject to be esteemed worthy of the King­dome, then it will profit him to have refused the offer. What then will he doe, who putteth the chiefest surety of his raigne in the basenesse & bare­nesse of his subjects? whose head be­ing possessed with eternall jealousy, maketh every presumption a proofe, [Page 142] and every light surmise a strong suspition against them. Surely since the generall favour and love which the people beareth you, hath bereaved you of your liberty, this their generall desire will not leave your life un­touched. As for us, if wee either faint in our intent, or faile in the interprise, actum est: we shall be as lambs among lions: and no conquest can be so cru­ell as the Kings raigne will bee over us. Certainely we have gone too far, for to goe back; and the time is past, when you for ambition and wee for envy might seeme to attempt against the King: the attainment of the King­dome must now bee a Sanctuary and refuge for us both. The like examples are not rare (as you affirme) nor long since put in practise, nor farre hence to be fetched. The Kings of Denmarke and of Swedland, are oftentimes banished by their Subjects; often­times imprisoned and put to their fine; the Princes of Germany, about an [...]undred yeares past, deposed Adul­phus their Emperour, and are now in [Page 143] hand to depose their Emperour Wenceslaus. The Earle of Flanders was a while since driven out of his Dominion by his owne people, for usurping greater power then apper­tained to his estate. The ancient Bri­taines chased away their owne King Carecious, for the lewdnesse of his life, and cruelty of his rule. In the time of the Saxon Heptarchy, Bernre­dus, King of Mercia, for his pride and stoutnes towards his people, was by them deposed. Likewise Aldre­dus and Ethelbertus Kings of Nor­thumberland, were for their disorders expelled by their subjects. Since the victory of the Normains, the Lords endeavoured to expell King Henry the third, but they were not able: yet were they able to depose King Ed­ward, the second, and to constitute his young Sonne Edward King in his stead: these are not all and yet enough to cleare this action of rarenesse in other Countries; and novelty in our. The difficulty indeed is somewhat, because the excellency is great: [Page 144] but they that are afraid of every bush, shall never take the bird: and your selfe had once some triall here­of, when without battaile, without bloud or blowes, you had the King at such a lift, as hee held his Crowne at your courtesie, even at that time when his grievances were, neither for greatnesse nor continuance, so in­tollerable as now they are growne: and by reason of his tender yeares, not out of all compasse, both of ex­cuse for the fault, and of hope for a­mendment. And as concerning the lawfulnesse.

Nay (said the Duke) where neces­sity doth inforce, it is superfluous to use speech, either of easinesse or of lawfulnesse: necessity will beate thorow brasen walles; and can bee li­mited by no lawes. I have felt very deeply my part in these calamities, and I would you knew with what griefe I have beheld yours: for what other reward have I received, of all my travailes and services, but the death of my Vncle & dearest friends, [Page 145] my owne banishment, the imprison­ment of my Children, and losse of my inheritance? and what have beene re­turned to you, for your bloud so often shed in his unfortunate warres, but continuall tributes, scourges, gal­lowes, and slavery? I have made suf­ficient proofe both of patience in my owne miseries, and of pitty in yours: remedy them hitherto I could not: If now I can, I will not refuse to su­staine that part, which your impor­tunity doth impose upon mee, if wee prevaile, we shall recover againe our liberty: if we loose, our State shall bee worse then now it is: and since we must needs perish, either deser­vingly, or without cause, it is more honourable to put our selves upon the adventure either to winne our lives, or to dye for desert: and although our lives were safe, which indeed are not, yet to abandon the State, and sleepe still in this slavery; were a point of negligence and sloath. It remaineth then, that wee use both se­crecy and celerity, laying hold upon [Page 146] the oportunity which the Kings ab­sence hath now presented unto us: for in all enterprises which never are commended before they bee at­chieved, delayes are dangerous, and more safe it is to bee found in action, then in counsaile: for they that deli­berate onely to rebell, have rebelled already.

So the Messengers departed into England, to declare the Dukes ac­ceptance, and to make preparation against his arrivall, both of armour, and of subjection, and desire to obey. Presently after their departure, the Duke signified to Cha [...]les King of France, that hee had a desire to goe into Britaine, to visite Iohn ▪ Duke of Britaine his friend and kinsman. The King suspecting no further fetch, sent letters of commendation in his favour, to the Duke of Britaine: but if hee had surmised any dangerous drift against King Richard, who not long before, had taken his Daugh­ter to wife; in stead of letters of safe conduct, hee would have [Page 147] found letts to have kept him safe from disturbing his Sonne in lawes estate.

As soone as the Duke was come into Britaine, hee waged certaine souldiers, and presently departed to Calis, and so committed to Sea for England; giving forth, that the one­ly cause of his voyage, was to reco­ver the Dutchy of Lancaster, and the rest of his lawfull inheritance, which the King wrongfully detained from him. In this company was Thomas Arundel the Archbishop of Canter­bury and Thomas the Sonne and Heire of Richard late Earle of Arundel, who was very young, and had a lit­tle before escaped out of prison, and fled into France to the Duke. The residue of his attendants were very few, not exceeding the number of fifteene lances▪ so that it is hard to e­steeme whether it was greater mar­vaile, either that he durst attempt, or that he did prevaile with so small a company: but his chiefest confidence was in the favour and assistance of [Page 148] the people within the Realme. So he did beare with England, yet not in a streight course, but sloated along the shoare, making head sometimes to one coast, and sometime to ano­ther, to discover what forces were in a readines either to resist or re­ceive him.

As he was in this sort hovering on the Seas, Lord Edmund Duke of Yorke, the Kings Vn [...]le, to whom the King had committed the custody of the Realme during the time of his absence, called unto him Edmund Stafford Bishop of Chichester, Lord Chancellour, and William Soroupe Earle of Wiltshire, Lord Treasurour of of the Realme, also Sir Iohn Bushy, Sir Henry Greene, Sir William Bagot, Sir Iohn Russell, and certaine others of the Kings Privy Councell; and entred into deliberation what was best to be done. At the last it was concluded, deceitfully by some, unskilfully by o­thers, and by all perniciously for the King; to leave the Sea coasts, and to leave London, the very Walles and [Page 149] Castle of the Realme, and goe to S. Albons, there to gather strength suf­ficient to encounter with the Duke. It is most certain that the Dukes side was not any wayes [...]oore furthered, then by this dissembling and de­ceiveable dealing: for open hostility and armes, may openly and by armes be resisted: but privy practises as they are hardly espied, so are they seldome avoided. And thus by this meanes the Duke landed about the feast of S. Martin, without let or resistance, at Ravenspur in Houldernesse, as most Writers affirme.

Presently after his arrivall, there resorted to him Lord Henry Pearcy Earle of Northumberland, and Lord Henry his Sonne, Earle of Westmer­land, Lord Radulph Nevil, Lord Rose, Lord Willoughby, and many other personages of honour, whose compa­ny encreased reputation to the cause, and was a great countenance and strength to the Dukes further pur­poses. And first they tooke of him an oath, that he should neither procure [Page 150] nor permit any bodily harme to bee done unto King Richard; whereupon they bound themselves upon their honours to prosecute all extremities against his mischievous Counsailors. And this was one step further then that which the Duke pretended at the first, when hee tooke shipping at Calis, which was onely the recovery of his inheritance: but that was as yet not determined, nor treated, and of some perhaps not thought upon; which afterwards it did ensue: and so was that place easily insinuated into by degrees, which with maine and direct violence would hardlier have beene obtained. Then the com­mon people desperate upon new de­sires, and without head, head-long to matters of innovation, flocked very fast to these Noble men, the better sort for love to the Common-wealth, some upon a wanton levity▪ and vaine desire of change, others in regard of their owne distressed and decayed estate, who setting their chlo [...]e hopes and devices upon a [Page 151] generall disturbance, were then most safe when the common state was most unsure. So betweene the one and the other, the multitude did in short time increase to the num­ber of threescore thousand able soul­diers.

The Duke finding this favour not onely to exceed his expectation, but even above his wish, hee thought it best to follow the current whilst the streame was most strong, know­ing right well, that if fortune be fol­lowed, as the first doe fall out, the rest will commonly succeed: There­fore cutting off unnecessary delayes, with all possible celerity hee hastned towards London: to the end that pos­sessing himselfe thereof as the chiefe place within the Realme, both for strength and store, hee might there make the seat of the warre. In this journey no signe nor shew of hostili­ty appeared, but all the way as hee passed, the men of chiefest quality and power adjoyned themselves un­to him, some upon heat of affection, [Page 152] some for feare, others upon hope of reward after victory; every one upon causes dislike; with like ardent desire contending, least any should seeme more forward then they: In every place also where hee made stay, rich gifts and pleasant devises were pre­sented unto him, with large supply both of force and provision, farre a­bove his need: and the Common peo­ple which for their greatnesse take no care of publique affaires, and are in least danger by reason of their base­nesse, with shouts and acclamations gave their applause: extolling the Duke, as the onely man of courage, and saluting him King; but spending many contumelious termes upon King Richard, and depraving him as a simple and sluggish man, a da­stard, a m [...]ycock, and one altoge­ther unworthy to beare rule; shew­ing themselves as much without rea­son in railing upon the one, as they were in flattering the other. A­gaine, the Duke for his part was not negligent to uncover the head, to [Page 153] bow the body, to stretch forth the hand to every meane person, and to use all other complements of popular behaviour: wherewith the minds of the common multitude are much de­lighted and drawen; taking that to be courtesie, which the severer sort account abasement. When he came to the Citie, hee was there likewise very richly and royally entertained, with processions and pageants, and vers other triumphant devises and shewes: the standing in all the streets where hee passed, were taken up to behold him; and the unable multi­tude, who otherwise could not, yet by their good words, wishes, and wils, did testifie unto him their loving affe­ctions: neither did there appeare in any man at that time, any memory of faith and allegiance towards King Richard, but as (in seditions it al­wayes hapneth) as the most swayed all did goe.

On the contrary side, the Duke of Yorke with the rest of his counsaile, fell to mustering of men at S. Albones [Page 154] for the King: but as the people out of divers quarters were called thi­ther, many of them protested, that they would doe nothing to the harme and prejudice of the Duke of Lan­caster, who they said was unjustly expelled, first from his countrey, and afterwards from his inheritance. Then W. Scroupe Earle of Wiltshire, Lord Treasurer, S. I. Bush, Sir W. Bagot, and Sir Henry Greene, per­ceiving the stiffe resolution of the people, forsooke the Duke of Yorke, and the Lord Chancellor, and fled to­wards Bristow; intending to passe the seas into Ireland to the King. These foure were they upon whom the common fame went, that they had taken of the King his Realme to farme: who were so odious unto the people, that their presence turned a­way the hearts of many subjects; yea it was thought that more for dis­pleasure against them, then against the King, the revolt was made. For being the only men of credit and au­thority with the King▪ under false co­lour [Page 155] of obedience, they wholly go­verned both the Realme and him; to many mischiefes corrupting his mind, and in many abusing his name, either against his will, or without his knowledge, insomuch as hee was innocent of much harme which passed under his commandement: but the patience of the people could not endure that two or three should rule all: not by reason they were sufficient, but because they were in favour: and the King in that he per­mitted them whom hee might have bridled, or was ignorant of that which he should have knowne, by tollerating and wincking at their faults, made them his owne, and opened thereby the way to his de­struction. So often times it falleth out to be as dangerous to a Prince to have hurtfull and hatefull officers in place and services of weight, as to be hurtfull and hatefull himselfe.

The Duke of Yorke either amazed at this sudden change, or fearing his adventure if hee should proceed in [Page 156] resistance, gave over the cause, and preferred present security, before du­ty with danger; giving most men occasion to misdeeme by his dealing, that hee secretly favoured the Dukes Enterprise, likewise all the other Counsellors of that side, either open­ly declared for the Duke, or secretly wished him well: and abandoning all private direction & advise, adjoyn­ed themselves to the common course, presuming thereby of greater safety.

Duke Henry in the meane time be­ing at London, entred into delibera­tion with his friends, what way were best to be followed. At the last; ha­ving considered the forwardnesse of the people, the greatnesse of the pe­rill whereinto they had already plun­ged, and the Kings irreconcilable nature, whereof hee made proofe a­gainst the Duke of Glocester, and the Earles of Arundell and Warwicke: they finally resolved to expell him from his dignity, and to constitute Duke Henry King in his stead: and to that end open warre was denounced [Page 157] against the King, & against all his par­takers, as enemies, to the quiet & pro­sperity of the Realme; and pardon al­so promised to all those that would submit themselves to follow the pre­sent course, otherwise to looke for no favour, but all extremities. None of the Nobility durst openly oppose himselfe to these designes: some un­willing to play all their state at a cast, kept themselves at liberty, to be dire­cted by successe of further event: o­thers consented coldly, and in tearms of doubtfull construction, with intent to interpret them afterwards, as oc­casion should change; but the most part did directly and resolutely enter into the cause, and made their for­tunes common with the Duke, in danger of the attempt, but not in ho­nour: among whom, the Duke stan­ding up, used speech to this purpose.

I am returned here as you see, at your procurement, & by your agree­ment have entred into armes for the common liberty: wee have hither­to prosperously proceeded, but in [Page 158] what tearmes wee now stand, I am altogether uncertaine. A private man I am loath to be accounted, be­ing designed to be King by you; and a Prince I cannot be esteemed, whilst another is in possession of the Kingdome. Also your name is in suspence, whether to be termed re­bels or subjects, untill you have made manifest that your alleageance was bound rather to the state of the Realme then the person of the Prince. Now you are the men who have both caused this doubtfulnesse and must cleare the same; your parts still remaineth to be performed; your vertue and valour must adde strength to the goodnesse of this action. Wee have already attempted so farre, that all hope of pardon is extinct; so that if we should shrinke back, and break off the enterprise, no mercy is to bee expected, but butchery and gibbets, and all extremities: if we drive off and delay the accomplishment ther­of, wee shall loose the opportunity which now is offered, and open to [Page 159] our enemies occasion of advantage. For the peoples blood is up now on our side, and nothing is wanting but our owne diligence and care: let us not therefore trifle out the time of doing, in talking and deliberating: it is best striking whilst the iron is hot: let us set forth roundly, and possesse our selves with speed of all the parts of the Realme: and so we shall be able either to keepe out our concurrent, or else to entertaine him little to his liking. So troops of men were sent into every quarter of the Realme, to secure them for ma­king strength on the part of King Richard: but the people in all pla­ces as men broken with many bur­thens, did easily entertaine the first Commer, and were not curious to side with the stronger. The Duke pursued those of the Kings Privie Councell, which fled away from the Duke of Yorke; bearing himselfe with great cheare and courage, as confident in the cause, and secure of the event. When he came at Bri­stow [Page 160] hee found the Castle fortified against him; but in short time hee forced it, and tooke therein Sir Iohn Bushy, Sir Henry Greene, and W. Scroupe, L. Treasurer, a joyfull prey to the common people: who (fear­ing that if execution should be defer­red, Petitions for pardon might hap­pen to prevaile, and so their cruelties and injuries should be answered with the vaine title and commendation of clemency) did violently require them unto death, no respite could be obtained, no defence admitted, no answer heard: yea their humble and submisse intreaty was interpreted to argue a weake and broken courage upon a guilty conscience, which more incensed the rage of the peo­ple, crying out that they were tray­tors, blood-suckers, theeves, and what other hainous tearmes insulting fury did put into their mouthes: at which clamorous and importunant instance, the day following they were beheaded, Sir VVilliam Bagot came not with them to Bristow ▪ but [Page 161] turned to Chester: and the pursuit being made after the most, hee alone escaped into Ireland. This execution, partly because it pleased the people, and partly because it excluded all hope of the Kings pardon, caused them to cleave more closely to the Duke; which greatly increased both his glory, and his hope▪ having offers of so large aid & need of so little.

In the meane time this newes of the Dukes arrivall, and of other oc­currences, part true, part false, & part enlarged by circumstance, (as fame groweth in the going) was blowne over to the King, being then entang­led with other broyles in Ireland, at the receipt whereof, he caused the sonnes of the Duke of Glocester, & of the Duke of Lancaster to be impri­soned in the strong Castle of Trim, which is in Ireland, and for dispatch to returne into England, le [...]t many matters unfinished, & most of his pro­vision behind, hasting and shuffling up, as present necessity did en­force. So being both unskilfull [Page 162] and unfortunate himselfe, and de­void of good direction; with more haste then good hap, hee tooke ship­ping, with the Duke of Aumerle, Exceter, and Surry, the Bishops of London, Lincolne, and Caerliele, and many other men of quality: and crossing the seas, landed at Milford-Haven in Wales, in which coun­trimen he alwayes reposed his chief­est surety and trust, but then he saw contrary to his expectation, that as well there as in all other places, the people by plumps flocked to the Duke, & fled from him: yea they that came with him began for to waver, no man encouraging them to be con­stant, but many to revolt. This sud­daine change not looked for, not thought upon, disturbed all the Kings devises, & made him irresolute what he should doe: on the one side hee saw his cause and quarrell to be right, and his conscience (he said) cleare from any bad demerite: on the o­ther side he saw the great strength of his enemies, and the whole power [Page 163] of the Realme bent against him: and being more abashed by the one, then emboldned by the other, hee stood perplexed in uncertaine termes, ei­ther where to stay, or whither to stir, having neither skill nor resolu­tion himselfe in cases of difficulty, and obnoxious to hurtfull and un­faithfull counsaile. Some advised him to martch forward, and pierce deeper into the land, before his own forces fell from him: affirming that valour is seconded by fortune: that this courage of his, would confirme the constancy of his souldiers: and his presence put the people in remem­brance of their saith, that in all pla­ces he should find some, who for fa­vour, or for hire, or else for duty, would adhere unto him: whereby hee should soone gather strength suf­ficient to joyne issue with his ene­my in the field. Others perswaded him to retire againe into Ireland, and then if succour failed him in England, to wage souldiers out of other countries. But the King [Page 164] being no man of action in military affaires, rejected both the counsailes, as neither venturous enough with the one, nor warie enough with the o­ther: and taking a middle course (which in cases of extremity of all is the worst) hee determined to make stay in Wales, and there to attend to what head this humour would rise.

The Duke upon advertisement that the King was landed in VVales, re­moved with a strong Army from Bristow towards Chester, using the first opportunity against him, and which indeed was the fittest. When Lord Thomas Pearcy Earle of Wor­cester, and Steward of the Kings Houshold▪ heard of the Dukes ap­proach, he brake forth into shew of that displeasure, which before he had conceived a [...]ainst the King, for pro­claiming his brother, the Earle of Northumberland traytor, and there­upon openly in the Hall, in the pre­sence of the Kings servants, he brake his white rod, the ensigne of his of­fice, [Page 165] and forthwith departed to the Duke, willing every man to shift for himselfe in time: by which act hee lost reputation, both with the Haters and Favourers of King Richard; be­ing accounted of the one a Corrup­ter, of the other a Forsaker, and be­trayer of the King. After this exam­ple, almost all the rest, more fearefull then faithfull, scattered themselves every one his way: and they who in the Kings flourishing time, would have contended to be formost, now in his declining estate equally draw backe, and like swallowes, forsooke that house in the winter of fortunes boysterous blasts, where they did no­thing but feed and foyle in the sum­mer of her sweet sun-shine. And thus betweene faint souldiers, and false friends, the King was abando­ned and forsaken, and left almost unto himselfe: looke on he might, but let it, hee could not, as not of force to punish that, which hee never forced to prevent: his only re­medy was patience: (a cold comfort) [Page 166] his onely revenge was complaint: (a weake weapon) betweene which two, his bitternesse did in this man­ner breake from him.

And doe these also (said he) for­sake me? doth their faith and my fortune end together? well, if I had forsaken them in time, I had not been forsaken of others, who once loved me better, and now are able to harme me more. But now I see the blind­nesse of my judgement: I plainely see, that there is no friendship in flat­tery, nor treachery in plaine truth: and I would I had as much time to reforme this error: as I am like to have to repent it, but they would not suffer mee to bee wise when I might, and now they have made me wretched they runne from me: they could be the causes, but they will not be companions of my miseries: such attendants are Crowes to a carcasse, which flocke together, not to de­fend, but to devoure it, and no soo­ner have they laid the bones bare, but straight-wayes they are gone.

[Page 167]Thus the King having lost both the feare and love of his subjects, disturbed and distracted in thoughts, without comfort, councell, or cou­rage, remained still in Wales, as a stranger at home, as an exile in his owne Kingdome, not daring to goe to London, nor any man desirous to come to him, shifting still from place to place, and (as it fals out to men distressed and amazed) fearing all things, but most disliking the pre­sent. The Duke continually pursued him with a mighty Army: but the Kings company was too small to do any thing by force, and yet too great to remaine in secret: neither were they in any sort assured unto him, but such as shame and reverence retained a while; bands of small countenance with men fearefull of danger, and carelesse of credit. At the length he came to the Castle of Conweye ▪ and there being utterly destitute both of helpe and hope, he stood divided in mind what way to bend his course, all his followers were more [Page 168] ready to impugne the opinions of o­ther, then to give direction them­selves, as seeing better what to shun then what to follow: and as it al­wayes chanceth in desperate causes, that way was commonly preferred, whereof the opportunity was alrea­dy past. Some advised him that it was then time to think, rather of saving his life, then recovering his estate. You see (said they) how greatly, and how wholly your subjects are set against you: it is but in vaine to look for a sud­dain change, or without a change to hope that your purposes may prevail, give place for a time to the current of this fury: let it have the full sway; and when it is at the highest pitch, it will turne againe; and then you shall have the tide as strong on your side, as it is now against you. This motion or ra­ther commotion of the people▪ is vio­lent and against nature: and there­fore (as a stone forced upward) is most strong at the beginning, and the further it passeth, the more it weak­neth, untill at last it returne to the na­turall [Page 169] course againe. Therefore give a little space for the bad to draw back, for the good to put forward: treasons prevaile on the suddaine, but good counsailes gather forces by leasure. You have example in your no­ble Progenitor, King Henry the third, against whom the Lords set up Lewis the French Kings son▪ conditions were concluded, and faith was made that he should be their King; but this purpose lasted not the pulling on: for before they had possessed him of the kingdome, they joyned together in armes against him, and were as fierce to drive him out of the Realme, as they had beene found to draw him in. The like alteration may you likewise not only hope, but assuredly expect: for the minds of men are constant in nothing but inconstancy, & persevere only in change, in dislike of things pre­sent they desire new, wherwith they rest not long contented, but are many times glutted even with the first sight. And indeed how can they long endure the Raigne of him, [Page 170] who attayning the Kingdome onely by their favour and might, shall hold the same in a manner, at their cour­tesie and will? for every unplea­sant command, shall be deemed in­gratitude: every suit rejected, shall charge him with unkindnesse; Yea, if honour be not offered, they will be discontented: and upon any oc­casion of displeasure, thinke them­selves as able to displace him, as they were to set him up: therefore you may for a time, returne againe into Ireland; or else passe the seas to your Father in law, the King of France: you may assure your selfe of his as­sistance, to set upon your side, and re­cover your losses. Times have their turnes, and fortune her course too and fro like the sea, and magnanimi­ty is shewne by enduring, and not relinquishing, when she doth crosse, only loose no point of courage, and keepe your person at large: reserving your selfe to that good hope, which never dyeth whilst life endure.

Others, who were enemies to all [Page 171] counsaile, whereof themselves were not Authors, perswaded the King, that the Nobility and Commons of the Realm had attempted so far, that they would rather dye, then desist; not so much for hatred to you, as for feare to themselves; having so deadly incensed your displeasure against them. For it is a hard matter to forgive, and impossible to forget those injuries and indignities which they have offered. And to omit what some Princes have done, what all will promise to doe, they will soone find fresh and bleeding exam­ples what you are like to doe. The Duke of Gloucester, and the Earle of Arundell, and of Warwicke did rise in armes against you, not to remove you from your Crowne: but to re­move certaine persons from your company, an action more displeasing then prejudiciall unto you: at the last, a friendship was made, and char­ters of free pardon granted unto them: but what followed? was ever the breach perfectly made up? [Page 172] did displeasure dye? or was it only dissembled? ah, it grieveth us to thinke, how the present want of their lives, hath fully revenged their deaths: for if they had lived, their countenance and authority would easily have stayed these stirs; and the manner of their deaths doth strike an obstinate persistance into all your enemies. As for refuge to forraine Princes, you shall surely receive of them entertainment and allowance, and yet may grow burdensome, and at last perhaps faile: but it is very hard to draw any Prince into so dan­gerous a quarrell: and more hard by that meanes to prevaile: or if you should, it is to be feared that the vi­ctorers will hold to themselves the benefit of their conquest, and not yeeld it over unto you. Few coun­tries but have beene under pretence of ayde by forrainers subdued: and this was the onely cause which first drew the Saxons into this land: who so assisted the Britaines against their enemies, that themselves could not be [Page 173] resisted from possessing their king­dome. Yet we do not altogether con­demne the helpe of strangers, in cases of extremitie; but doe account it a remedy, least to be trusted, and last of all to be tryed. What then if first you should procure a treaty, to see in what termes the people stand against you? It may be that upon some con­ditions they will submit themselves unto you, as heretofore they have done. Or if they will needs deforce you from your kingdome, yet if an honourable maintenance may be assu­red, what shall you lose therby? What shall you lack? You have no child to be disinherited; the chiefest motive which maketh men so greedy to get, and so carefull to keepe. And as for your selfe, you shall bee removed from a steep and slippery hill to a smooth and pleasant plain; from tem­pestuous seas to a calme haven; from dangerous travaile to secure rest, & if there be no solace without safety, no felicity without firmnesse; you shall find the private life not onely more [Page 174] sweet, but more high and happy, then your princely state. The tallest trees are weakest in the tops; in widest fields are greatest tempests; and en­vy alwayes aimeth at loftiest marks: so that to be placed on high, is a false felicity, and a true misery in shew a rule, but indeed a subjection to all the subjects; having least stay to stand, and most danger in the fall: and therefore if you come downe safely, you are therein priviledged above many other. But you shall lose (you will say) the credit and the countenance of a King: so you shall the cares; and so you shall the casual­ties. The Crowne and Scepter are things most weighty to weld: if a Prince be good, he is laden with la­bour, if evill, with infamy and re­proach: if either, with perils: on every side hee is beset with dange­rous Rocks, with deadly Gulfes, and continually tossed with strong and sturdy tempests: so that to be freed from these feares, is to be esteemed an escape, and not a losse. This did [Page 175] the Stoick Philosopher perceive, who seeing Dionysius sit merily and freely conceited in the Theater, being a lit­tle before expelled his Kingdome; greatly condemned the error of his people, who had banished him to such liberty, and so preferred him by his punishment. These are the dreams of Philosophers (you will say) who usually deprave and contemne honour, and yet never lie from ho­nourable mens tables. Let passe then Philosophers: go to vaine and sottish men. Seleuchus being a King, was wont to say, that if a man knew with what cares the Diadem was clogged, hee would not take it up, although it lay in the street. You will say per­adventure, that like the Boat-man, hee looked one way, and pulled ano­ther; or like the Lapwing, he cryed most when hee was furthest from his Nest, vainely dispraysing that which hee was loathest to loose. What say you then to Antiochus? whom when the Romans had dispoyled him of all Asia ▪ he sent unto them great [Page 176] thankes, that they had rid him of in­finit and importable cares, and set him at a moderate quiet: you will say that hee made a vertue of his necessi­ty. Well then, wee are somewhat neere your case: and they that can­not frame their wils to this wisdome, let them thanke their enemies for en­forcing them to it. But what say you to Dioclesian? who did voluntarily relinquish, not a small and corner Kingdome, but the greatest Empire that the world did ever beare, and found so sweet contentment in that exchange, that when hee was impor­tuned by the Senate, to resume his estate, hee utterly rejected their suite. But what need we travell in externe Histories for those examples, whereof wee have so large supply in our own? the ancient Saxon Kings: Kingilsus, Ina, Ceolulpus, Fadbertus, Ethelre­dus, Kenredus, Offa, Sebbi, and Sige­bertus did of their owne accord lay downe their Diadems and Scepters, and betake themselvs to solitary & re­ligious lives. Now many Princes have [Page 177] held their estate with better fortune, but none did ever with greater ho­nour leave it, then you should at this present: for others have abandoned their rule, either for desire of case, or for avoidance of dangers, or upon some sluggish or superstitious de­votion: but you for love to your Countrey, shall forbeare to seeke your uttermost remedy, in setting up a most cruell warre: wherein much English bloud should bee spilt, and the Realme deprived of many worthy armies. Let others bee re­ported to forsake their Kingdomes, when they had no longer pleasure to hold them: but your praise shall bee for giving over, when it is grea­test benefit unto the people; and the more hope you have to prevaile, if you list to contend, the greater com­mendations will it bee to yeeld, as being rather voluntary then by con­straint.

The King commended the cou­rage of the first, but this last Counsell best agreed with his faint and feeble [Page 178] Spirit, more yeelding to feare then forward in hope; apt by the one to despaire, unable by the other to hold out in any hard adventure, preferring alwayes abject and base safety, be­fore hazard with honour. Yet were many ready to reply, that all speech of conditions and yeelding was both dishonourable, and also dange­rous: for even in hardest haps, said they, a Noble nature will not pre­sently relinquish; but first endeavour either by courage to repell the dan­ger, or by wisedome to decline it: and why should you so little esteeme your glory and fame, as without bat­tell, or blow striken to bind your hands, and yeeld up your weapons, and put y [...]ur selfe upon miserable mercy: or if the honour of your No­ble house doth nothing move you, yet let danger and despaire at least arme you to boldnesse; for neither the Duke nor his friends will bee so confident as to thinke themselves safe, so long as you shall remaine (al­though in private state) alive. In­deed [Page 179] you may assure your selfe that faire words will bee given, and large offers made: but the performance shall consist in the courtesie of the Conquerour: and nothing will bee thought unlawfull to him that hath power. King Edward the second was too heavy to bee indured, even of his owne Sonne: and many have used violence to themselves, rather then they would fall into the power of their concurrents: and doe not you expect more favour or greater fortun then other have found: let never that senselesnesse possesse your mind, to i­magine that a Prince may live safely in private estate: for in this case there is no meane betweene Caesar, and no­thing betweene the highest honour & the deadliest downefall. Therefore o­mit neither all, nor any one meanes unassayed, to maintaine your side by armes: no greater harme can happen at the hardest, then that which wil­lingly you runne into: you can but die if you bee vanquished, and die you shall if you doe yeeld: but by the [Page 180] one you shall end your life with glo­ry, by the other with shame and per­petuall reproach. And although you doe now esteeme equally of both, yet when you shall see your selfe pent in prison; in dayly feare and expectancy of a bloudy Messenger; you shall then perceive a difference in death, and find the weakenesse and fault of the Councell which you are about to follow. Many like speeches were with great vehemency often repeated, but the Kings eares were stopped against all impression of manhood: and as hee was unable to governe himselfe in his prosperous estate, so was hee much lesse sufficient to wind out of these intricate trou­bles. Therefore perceiving himselfe so straitly beset, that hee could hard­ly either escape away, or shift any longer, hee desired speech with Tho­mas Arundel Archbishop of Can­terbury, and Lord Henry Pearcy Earle of Northumberland, of whom, the one hee had banished, the other hee had proclaimed Traytour not [Page 181] long before. These two came unto him, and the King upon short confe­rence, understanding what stiffe sto­macks they bare against him, was content not to demand that which he saw hee could not obtaine: and there­upon agreed that hee would relin­quish his estate, upon condition that an honourable living might be assig­ned him, and life promised to eight such persons as hee would name: the greatest number whom adversity did not alter. This was then both readily and faithfully promised by the Archbishop and the Earle, and afterward solemnely ratified by the Duke. The King ceased not to en­treat submisly, and promise largely, and (as the nature is of men per­plexed with feare) above his ability, and without measure, the Earle encouraged him, and declared that the Duke before he had obtained any aid, secured by his oath the safety of the Kings person. Then the King desired to talke with the Duke, which was likewise promised; and so the [Page 182] Archbishop and the Earle departed, and the King removed to the Castle of Flint about eight miles distant from Chester, to which place the Duke came to him. Here the coun­tenances and words of both were noted, by them that were present; the King seemed abject and base: the Duke neither insulting nor relen­ting, but comforting and promising friendly. The King repeated many benefits and kindnesses that hee had shewed: how in former time hee had spared the Dukes owne life, and late­ly his Sonnes: in regard whereof he desired him, with such submisnes as was agreable rather with his necessi­ty then his honour: that hee would shew some pitty where hee had re­ceived such pleasure: and permit him to enjoy his life, with such private maintenance as was convenient for his estate. The Duke put him in good comfort, promising him assuredly, that he would provide for his safety: for which hee suffered himselfe to be solemnly thanked, and thought it [Page 183] not much to have it accounted a great benefit. Indeed from that time the King was kept safe and sure enough, from binding any of the Dukes pur­poses, neither could it so easily have beene discerned what had beene best for him to doe, as that this which he did was the very worst: for the same night he was brought by the Duke & his army to Chester, and from thence secretly conveyed to the Tower of London, there to be kept safe untill the Parliament, which was appointed shortly after to be holden.

Thus the King yeelded himselfe: the 20. day of August, being the 47. day after the Dukes arrivall: so that his journeyes considered, from Houl­dernesse in the North to London: from thence to Bristow, and so into Wales, and back againe to Chester: a man shall not easily travaile over the land in shorter time then he conquered it. So friendly was fortune unto him, that he either found or made a ready passage through all hinderances and lets: and it seemed that hee needed [Page 184] onely, to open his armes, to meet and receive her, as shee offered her selfe unto him. All the Kings treasure and Iewels, with his horses, and all his fardage came to the Dukes hands; and many that were in his company, were afterwards also despoiled by the soul­diers of Northumberland and Wales.

Some Writers affirme, that the King did not yeeld himselfe, but was forelaid and taken, as he was secretly passing from Flint to Chester: but the authority of others who lived in that time, either in the plain view, or cer­taine intelligence of these affaires, who for their place could not but know, & for their profession would not but deliver the very truth, hath drawne mee to follow their report: which I find also received by some late Writers, of as great deapth in judgement and choyce, as any (with­out exception) that this age hath brought forth.

As the King was carried towards London, certaine Citizens conspired to lay themselves in a wait by the [Page 185] way, and sodainly to slay him; partly, for private grievances, and partly, for the cruelty that he had used towards the whole City: but the Major upon intelligence prevented the practice, & rod forth in person with a conve­nient company, to conduct him safe­ly unto the Tower. Shortly after the Duke came to London in solemne e­state, and sent forth summons in the Kings name, for a Parliament to bee holden at Westminster, the last day of September, in the same yeare: in the meane time he deliberated with his kindred, & kind friends, concerning the order of his proceedings. The Duke of Yorke (who a little before had beene Governour of the Realme for the King, & then was the chiefest Directour of the Duke) thought it best that King Richard should both voluntarily resigne, and also solemne­ly be deposed, by consent of all the States of the Realme: for resignation onely would be imputed to feare, and deprivation to force: whereof the one is alwayes pitied, & the other en­vied: [Page] but if both concurre, and his de­sire be combined with his desert, be­ing willing to forsake that which he is adjudged worthy to forgoe, then shall it appeare, that he neither is ex­pelled his Kingdome by meere con­straint, nor leaveth it without just cause. This advice pleased the rest, and for executing thereof upon the day of S. Michael (which was the day before the Parliament should begin) there assembled at the Tower, Thomas Arundel Archbishop of Canterbury▪ Richard Scroupe Archbishop of Yorke Iohn Bishop of Hereford, Henry Duke of Lancaster, Henry Earl of Northum­berland, Radulph Earle of Westmer­land, Lord Hugh Burnel, Lord Tho­mas Barkly, Lord Rose, Lord Willough­by, Lord Abergeiny; The Abbot of Westminster, the [...]riour of Canterbury, William Thirminges, and Iohn Marke­ham Chiefe Iustices, Thomas Stoke, and Iohn Burback ▪ Doctours of Law, Tho­mas Herpingham, and Thomas Gray Knights, William Forby, and Dionis [...] Lopham publike Notaries, and diver [...] [Page 187] others either not noted, or not re­membred. When all were set in their places, King Richard was brought forth, apparelled in his Royall robe, the diademe on his head, & the Scep­ter in his hand; and was placed a­mongst them in a Chaire of estate. Never was Prince so gorgeous, with lesse glory and greater griefe: to whom it was not disgrace sufficient, to lose both the honour and orna­ments of a King, but hee must openly to his greater scorne, renounce the one, and deliver the other. After a lit­tle pause and expectation, the King a­rose from his seat, and spake to the as­sembly these words, or the very like in effect.

I assure my self that some at this pre­sent, & many hereafter, will accompt my case lamentable; either that I have deserved this dejection, if it be just; or if it be wrongfull, that I could nota­void it. Indeed I do confes that many times I have shewed my selfe both lesse provident & lesse painful for the benefit of the Common-wealth, then [Page 188] I should, or might; or intended to doe hereafter; and have in many actions more respected the satisfying of my owne particular humour, then either justice to some private persons, or the common good of all, yet I did not at any time either omit duty or commit grievance, upon naturall dul­nes or set malice; but partly, by abuse of corrupt Counsellors, partly, by er­rour of my youthfull judgement. And now the remembrance of these o­versights, is so unpleasant to no man, as to my selfe; and the rather because I have no meanes left, either to re­compence the injuries which I have done, or to testifie to the World my reformed affections, which expe­rience and stayednesse of yeares had already corrected, and would dayly have framed to more perfection. But whether all the imputations, where­with I am charged be true, either in substance, or in such quality as they are laid, or whether being true, they be so heinous, as to inforce these extremi­ties, or whether any other Prince, [Page 189] especially in the heate of youth, and in the space of two and twenty yeares (the time of my unfortunate raigne) doth, not sometimes either for ad­vantage, or upon displeasure in as deepe manner grieve some particular subject; I will not now examine: it helpeth not to use defence, neither booteth it to make complaint: there is left no place for the one, nor pitty for the other: and therefore I referre it to the judgement of God▪ and your lesse distempered considerations.

I accuse no man, I blame no for­tune, I complaine of nothing: I have no pleasure in such vaine and need­lesse comforts; and if I listed to have stood upon termes, I know I have great favourers abroad; and some friends (I hope) at home, who would have beene ready▪ yea forward on my behalfe to set up a bloudy and doubt­full warre: but I esteeme not my dig­nity at so high a prize, at the hazard of so great value, the spilling of so much English bloud, and the spoile & wast of so flourishing a Realme, as [Page 190] thereby might have beene occasio­ned. Therefore that the Common-wealth may rather rise by my fall, then I stand by the ruine thereof, I willingly yeeld to your desires, and am heere come to dispossesse my selfe to all publike authority and title, and to make it free and lawfull for you to create for your King, Henry Duke of Lancaster my Cousin Germaine, whom I know to be as worthy to take that place, as I see you willing to give it to him.

Then he read openly and distinctly the forme of his cession, wherein he did declare, that he had discharged his subjects, from their oaths of fealty and homage, & all other oaths what­soever; and of his owne will and free motion, did abdicate the title digni­ty, and authority of a King: and ren­dred up the possession of the Realm, with the use and title thereof, and all the rights thereunto appertaining. To this the King subscribed and was sworne: and then he delivered with his owne hands the Crowne, the [Page 191] Scepter, and the Robe to the Duke of Lancaster; wishing unto him more happinesse therewith, then had ever happened unto himselfe. Then he did constitute the Archbishop of Yorke, and the Bishop of Hereford his Pro­curatours, to intimate and declare this his resignation to all the States of the Realme, which should be as­sembled together in Parliament. Lastly hee gave all his riches and goods, to the summe of three hun­dred thousand pounds in coine, be­sides his Iewels and plate, for satis­faction of the injuries that hee had done, desiring the Duke, and all the rest that were present severally by their names, not altogether to forget that he had beene their King, nor yet too much to thinke upon the same; but to retaine of him a moderate re­membrance; and in recompence of the case that he had done them by his voluntary yeelding, to permit him to live safely, in a private and obscure life: with the swetnesse whereof he was so possessed, that from thence­forth [Page 192] he would preferre it, before any preferment in the World. All this was delivered and done by the King, with voyce and countenance so a­greeable to his present heavinesse, that there was no man too unminde­full of humane instability▪ which was not in some measure moved thereat: in so much as a few secret teares mel­ted from the eyes of many that were present, in whose minds a confused and obscure alteration gan to begin. So prone and inclinable are men to pitty misery, although they have pro­cured it, and to envy prospery, even that which they have raised.

Vpon Munday next following, the Parliament beganne at W [...]stmin­ster ▪ and the Archbishop of Yorke and the Bishop of Hereford ▪ (the Kings Atturneies for this purpose) declared openly to the States there assembled, the Kings voluntary resignation; and demanded whether they would as­sent and agree thereunto? the Barons of the Realme by severall and par­ticular consent, the Commons with [Page 193] one generall voice, did expresly ac­cept and admit the same. Then it was thought meet that certaine de­fects and misdemeanures concerning matters of government, should bee objected against the King: for which he should be adjudged as unworthy, as hee seemed unwilling to retaine the Kingdome. To this purpose cer­taine articles were engrossed, and openly read: in which was contai­ned, how unprofitable the King had beene to the Realme; how unjust and grievous to the Subjects: con­trary both to his honour, and to his oath. The chiefest of which Articles are these that follow.

1 FIrst, that King Richard did wastfully spend the Tresure of the Realme, and had given the possession of the Crowne, to men unworthy, by reason whereof, new charges were dayly laid on the necks of the poore Comminalty.

2 Item, Where divers▪ Lords as well Spirituall as Temporall, [Page 194] were appointed by the High Court of Parliament, to commune and treat of matters concerning the State of the Realme, and the Common-wealth of the same, they being busied about the same commission he with with others of his affinity went a­bout to impeach them of trea­son.

3 Item, that by force and menace, hee compelled the Justices of the Realme at Shrewsbury to condiscend to his opinion for the destruction of the said Lords: Insomuch as he beganne to raise warre, against Iohn Duke of Lancaster, Thomas Earle of Arundel, Richard Earle of Warwick, and other Lords contrary to his ho­nour and promise.

4 Item, that he caused his Vncle the Duke of Glocester, to be arrested without law, and sent him to Calis, and there without judgement mur­thered him: and although the Earle of Arundel upon his arraignement, pleaded his charter of pardon, he could not bee heard, but was in [Page 195] most vile and shamefull manner so­dainly put to death.

5 Item, he assembled certaine Lancashire and Cheshire men, to the intent to make warre on the a­foresaid Lords, and suffered them to robbe and spoile, without corre­ction and reproofe.

6 Item, that although the King flatteringly and with great dis­simulation, made proclamation throughout the Realme, that the Lords aforenamed were not at­tached for any crime of treason, but onely for extortions and oppres­sions done within the Realme, yet hee laid to them in the Parlia­ment rebellion with manifest trea­son.

7 Item, hee hath compelled di­vers of the said Lords servants by menace, to make great fines and ex­treme payments, to their utter un­doing: and notwithstanding his par­don to them granted, he made them fine a new.

8 Item, where divers were appoin­ted [Page 196] to commune of the estate of the Realme, and the Common-wealth of the same, the King caused all the roules and records to bee kept from them, contrary to his promise made in Parliament, to his open disho­nour.

9 Item, hee uncharitably com­manded that no man upon paine of losse of life and goods, should once intreat him for the returne of Henry, now Duke of Lancaster.

10 Item, where the Realme is houlden of God, and not of the Pope, or any other Prince, the said King Richard, after hee had obtained divers acts of Parliament, for his owne peculiar profit and pleasure, then hee procured Bulles and ex­treame censures from Rome to com­pell all men streightly to keepe the same, contrary to the honour and ancient priviledges of this Realme.

11 Item, although the Duke of Lancaster had done his devoire a­gainst Thomas Duke of Norfolke, in [Page 197] proofe of his quarrell, yet the said King without reason or ground, banished him the Realme for tenne yeares, contrary to all equi­ty.

12 Item, before the Dukes de­parture, hee under his broad Seale, licensed him to make Atturneyes, to prosecute and defend his causes: the said King after his departure, would suffer none Atturney to ap­peare for him, but did with his at his pleasure.

13 Item, the said King put out divers Sheriffes lawfully elected, and put in their roomes divers others of his owne minions, subverting the law, contrary to his oath and ho­nour.

14 Item, hee borrowed great summes of money, and bound him­selfe under his Letters patents for the repayment of the same, and yet not one penny paid.

15 Item, he taxed men at the will of him, and his unhappy Counsaile, and the same Treasure spent in folly, [Page 198] not paying poore men for their vit­taile and viand.

16 Item, he said that the lawes of the Realme were in his head, and sometimes in his breast: by reason of which phantasticall opinion, hee destroyed Noble men, and impoverished the poore Com­mons.

17 Item, the Parliament setting and enacting divers notable Statutes, for the profit and advancement of the Common wealth, he by his pri­vy friends and solicitours, caused to bee enacted, that no act then enacted should bee more prejudiciall to him then it was to his Predecessours: thorow which proviso, he did of­ten as hee list, and not as the law meant.

18 Item, for to serve his pur­pose, he would suffer the Sheriffes of the Shires, to remaine above one yeare or two in their office.

19 Item, at the summons of Par­liament, when the Knights and Bur­gesses should bee elected, and the [Page 199] election had fully proceeded, hee put out divers persons elected and put in others in their pla­ces, to serve his will and appe­tite.

20 Item, hee had privy espials in every Shire, to heare who had of him any communication, and if hee communed of his lascivious living, and outragious doing, hee straight­wayes was apprehended and made a grievous fine.

21 Item, the Spiritualty alledged against him, that hee at his going in­to Ireland, exacted many notable summes of money, beside Plate and Iewels, without law or custome, contrary to his oath taken at his co­ronation.

22 Item, when divers Lords and Iustices were sworne to say the truth, of divers things to them com­mitted in charge, both for the ho­nour of the Realme and profit of the King, the said King so menaced them with sore threatnings, that no man would or durst say the right.

[Page 200]23 Item, that without the assent of the Nobility, he carried the Iewels and Plate, and Treasure, over the Sea into Ireland, to the great impo [...]verishing of the Realme; and all the good Records of the Common-wealth, against his extortions, hee caused privily to bee embeasoled and carried away.

24 Item, in all leagues and let­ters to bee concluded and sent to the Sea of Rome, and other Regions, his writing was so subtill and darke, that no other Prince durst once be­lieve him, not yet his owne Sub­jects.

25 Item, hee most tyrannously and unprincely said, that the lives and goods of all his Subjects, were in the Princes hands, and at his disposition.

26 Item, that hee contrary to the great Charter of England, caused divers lusty men to appeale divers old men, upon matters determina­ble at the Common law, in the Court Marciall, because that in that Court is no triall but onely by bat­taile: [Page 201] whereby the said aged per­sons fearing the sequell of the mat­ter, submitted themselves to his mer­cy, whom hee fined and ransomed unreasonably at his pleasure.

27 Item, he craftily devised cer­caine privy oathes, contrary to Law, and caused divers of his subjects, first to be sworne to observe the same, and after bound them in bands for surer keeping the same, to the great undoing of many honest men.

28 Item, where the Chancellor according to law, would in no wise grant a prohibition to a certaine per­son, the King granted it unto the same person under his privie Seale, with great threatnings if it should be disobeyed.

29 Item, he banished the Bishop of Canterbury, without cause or judgement, and kept him in the Par­liament Chamber with men of armes.

30 Item, the Bishops goods hee granted to his successor, upon condi­tion that hee should maintaine all his [Page 202] statutes made at Shrewsbury, Anno 21. and the statutes made, Anno. 22. at Coventree.

31 Item, upon the accusation of the Archbishop, the King craftily perswaded the said Bishop to make no answer, for he would be his war­rant, and advised him not to come to the Parliament; and so without an­swer hee was condemned, and exiled, and his goods seazed. Foure other Articles were laid, which particularly did concerne the said Archbishop, by whose doing chiefly the King was utterly undone.

Then was demanded of the No­bility and Commons of the Realme, what they judged both of the truth and desert of these Articles? who all agreed that the crimes were no­torious, and that King Richard was worthy for the same to be deposed from his princely dignity. The no­ble men gave their voyces, part corrupted by favour, part awed by feare: and the Commons are com­monly like a flocke of Cranes, as [Page 203] one doth fly all will follow. Here­upon Commissioners were appoin­ted by both the Houses; who pro­nounced sentence of deposition a­gainst King Richard, in manner and forme as followeth.

In the name of God, Amen▪ Wee, Iohn Bishop of S. Asses, I. Ab­bot of Glastenbury, Thomas Earle of Gloucester, Thomas Lord Bekley, Thomas Erpinghaime, Thomas Gray Knights: William Therning, Iu­stice, Commissioners for the matters hereafter specified, by the Lords spi­rituall and temporall of the Realme of England, and the Commons of the said Realme, representing all the States of the said Kingdome, speci­ally deputed, sitting in seate of judge­ment, and considering the manifold iniuries, and cruelties, and ma­ny other crimes and offences by Richard late King of the said Realm committed and done, contrary to good governement in the Realmes and Dominions aforesaid, during the time of his Raigne: also [Page 204] considering the articles which were o­penly exhibited and read before the said States, which were so publike, notori­ous, manifest, and famous, that they could nor can by no avoydance and shift bee concealed: also considering the confession of the said King, acknow­ledging and reputing, and truly upon his certaine knowledge judging himselfe, to have beene, and to be altogether insuf­ficient and unskilfull, for the rule and government of the Realmes and Do­minions aforesaid, and of any parts of them, and not unworthy to bee deposed for the notorious demerits, by the said Richard first acknowledged, and after­ward by his will and mandate, before the said States published, and to them opened and declared in the English tongue. Vpon these and other matters which were done concerning the same busines, before the said States and us, by the diligent place, name and autho­rity to us in this part committed, in a­bundance and for a cautele wee pro­nounce, decree, and declare, the said Richard, to have beene, and to be unpro­fitable [Page 205] and unable, and altogether un­sufficient and unworthy for the rule, and government of the said Realmes, and of the Dominions, Rights, and parts of them: and in regard and respect of the premises, worthily to bee deposed from all kingly dignity and honour (if any such dignity and honour remaineth in him) and for the like cautele wee doe depose him by our sentence definitive, in this writing: inhibiting from hence­forth expresly, all and singular Lords, Archbishops, Bishops, Prelates, Dukes, Marquesses and Earles, Barons, Knights, Vassalles, and all other persons whatsoever, of the said Realmes and Dominions, and other places to the said Realmes and Dominions appertai­ning, the subjects and liege people of the same, and every of them, that from henceforth none obey, or intend to obey the aforesaid Richard, as King or Lord of the Realmes and Dominions afore­said.

Then the same Commissioners were by the consent and suffrages of both houses, constituted Procura­tors, [Page 206] joyntly and severally for all the States of the Realme; to resigne and surrender unto King Richard, for them and all other homages of the Realme, all the homages and feal­ties which were both due and done unto him, as King and Soveraigne, and also to declare unto him all the premises, concerning his deposition. Now Henry Duke of Lancaster, that hee might bee reputed, or re­ported at the least, not to attaine the Kingdome by intrusion and wrong, was counsailed by his friends, to pre­tend some lawfull challenge and claime thereunto: and being in power, it was no sooner advised what was to bee done, but it was presently devised how to doe it. So a title was drawne from Edmund, sonne to King Henry the third, whom they surnamed Crouch-backe: affirming that hee was the eldest sonne of King Henry, and that for his deformity, hee was put from his right of succes­sion in the Kingdome; which was for that cause given to his younger bro­ther, [Page 207] King Edward the third; to this Edmund the Duke was next of blood by his mother Blanche, sole daughter and heyre to Henry the first Duke of Lancaster, and sonne to the said Edmund. This cunning con­ceit was perceived of all men, but seeming not to perceive it, was a point of friendship in some, and of obedience in the rest: therefore the Kingdome of England being then thought vacant, both by the resigna­tion▪ and also by the deposition of King Richard: Duke Henry arose from his seat, and standing in the view of the Lords, crossed himselfe on the fore-head, and on the brest, and spake as followeth.

In the name of God, Amen: I Henry of Lancaster, claime the realme of England, and the Crown, with all the appurtenances, as I that am descended by right line of the blood royall, comming from that good Lord K. Henry the third, & through the right that God of his grace hath sent me, with the helpe of my kindred, [Page 208] and of my friends, to recover the same: Which kingdome was in point to be un­done, for default of good government and due justice.

After these words, it was de­manded in both houses, of the No­bility and of the Commons which were assembled, whether they did consent, that the Duke should raign? who all with one voyce acknowled­ged and accepted him for their King: then the Archbishop of Can­terbury tooke him by the hand, and placed him in the Throne of estate, the Archbishop of Yorke assisting him, and all the assembly testifying their owne joy, and wishing his. Then the Archbishop made an Ora­tion, and tooke for his theame, this place of Scripture: See; this is the man whom I spake to thee of, this same shall raigne over my people, 1 Reg. 9.17. After all this hee was pro­claymed King of England, and of France, and Lord of Ireland: and the common people which is void of cares, not searching into sequels, but [Page 209] without difference of right or wrong inclinable to follow those that are mighty, with shoutes and clamours gave their applause, not all upon judgement, or faithfull mea­ning, but mostionly upon a received custome to flatter the Prince what­soever he be. Yet least the heat of this humour should allay by delay, it was forthwith proclaimed in the great Hall, that upon the 13. day of September next ensuing, the Coro­nation of the King should be celebra­ted at Westminster, These matters be­ing thus dispatched, the K. proclaim­ed, arose from his seat, and went to White-Hall: where hee spent the rest of day in royall feasting, and all other complements of joy: not­withstanding there appeared in him no token of statelinesse or pride, nor any change in so great a change.

Vpon Wednesday next follow­ing, the Procurators, before mentio­ned, went to the presence of King Richard, being within the Tower; and declared unto him the admission [Page 210] of his resignation, and also the order and forme of his deposition: and in the name of all the States of the realm, did surrender the homage and fealty which had bin due unto him; so that no man from thenceforth would bear to him faith and obedience, as to their King. The King answered that he no­thing regarded these titular circum­stances, but contented himselfe with hope, that his cousen would be a gra­cious Lord, and good friend unto him.

So upon the 13. day of October, which was the day of the translation of Edward the Confessor, the Duke was with all accustomed solemnities, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, sacred, annoynted, and crowned King at Westminster, by the name of King Henry the fourth: upon the very same day, wherein the yeare be­fore he had bin banished the Realme. Hee was annoynted with an oyle, which a certain religious man gave un­to Henry the first, Duke of Lancaster, (Grandfather to the King by the mo­thers side) when he served in the wars [Page 211] of King Edward the third, beyond the seas; together with this Pro­phesie; that the Kings which should bee annoynted therewith, should bee the Champions of the Church. Duke Henry delive­red this oyle in a golden violl to Prince Edward, the eldest sonne of King Edward the third; who locked up the same in a barred Chest within the Tower, with intent to be annoynted therewith, when he should be crowned King: but the Prince dying before his Father, it re­mayned there, either not remem­bred, or not regarded, untill this present yeare; wherein the King, being upon his voyage into Ireland, and making diligent search for the Iewels and Mo­numents of his Progenitors, found this Violl and Prophesie: and understanding the secret, was de­sirous to bee annoynted againe with that oyle: but the Archbishop of Canterbury perswaded him, that both the fact was unlawfull, and the [Page 212] precedent unseen, that a King should be annoynted twice: whereupon he brake off that purpose, and took the violl with him into Ireland: and when he yeelded himselfe at Flint, the Archbishop of Canterbury de­manded it of him againe, and did receive and reserve the same, untill the coronation of King Henry; who was the first King of this Realme, that was annoynted therewith.

I am not purposed to discourse, ei­ther of the authority, or of the cer­tainty of these prophesies: but wee may easily observe, that the greatest part of them, either altogether fay­led, or were fulfilled in another sense, then as they were commonly con­strued and taken. During the raigne of King Henry the fourth, executi­on by fire was first put in practise within this Realme, for controver­sies in points of religion: in any o­ther extraordinary matter, hee did as much make the Church Cham­pion, as shew himselfe a Champion of the Church: but afterwards his [Page 213] successors were intitule, Defendars of the faith: and how in action they ve­rified the same, I refer to remem­brance, and report of later times.

Now it had beene considered, that the title which was derived to King Henry, from Edmund, whom they surnamed Crouchbacke, would be ta­ken but for a blind and idle jest: for that it was notorious that the said Edmund was neither eldest sonne to King Henry the third (as it was plainely declared by an act of Parlia­ment) nor yet a mishapen and de­formed person: but a goodly Gen­tleman, and valiant Commander in the field, and so favoured of the King his Father, that hee gave him both the heritages and honours of Simon Mountfort Earle of Leicester, of Ferrare, Earle of Darby, and of Iohn Baron of Monmuth, who to their owne ruine and destruction, had displayed seditious ensignes a­gainst the King. And further to ad­vance him to the marriage of Blanch Queene of Naverne, hee created him [Page 214] the first Earle of Lancaster, and gave unto him the County, Castle, and Towne of Lancaster, with the Forrests of Wiresdale Lounsdale, New-castle, beneath Linne, the Manner, Castle, and Forrest of Pickering, the Manner of Scaleby, the Towne of Gome­cester, of Huntendone, &c. with many large priviledges, and high titles of honour.

Therefore King Henry upon the day of his Coronation; caused to bee proclaymed, that hee claymed the kingdome of England, first by right of conquest: Secondly, because King Richard had resigned his estate, and designed him for his successour: Lastly, because hee was of the blood royall, and next heyre male unto King Richard.

Haeres malus indeed (quoth Ed­mund Mortimer, Earle of March, unto his secret friends) and so is the Pyrate to the Merchant, when hee despoyleth him of all that he hath. This Edmund was sonne to Roger Mortimer; who was not long before [Page 215] slaine in Ireland, and had beene open­ly declared heyre apparent to the Crowne, in case King Richard should dye without issue, as descen­ded by his Mother Philip, from Lio­nell, Duke of Clarence, who was elder brother to Iohn Duke of Lan­caster, King Henries Father: and therefore the said Edmund thought himselfe, and indeed was, neerer heyre male to the succession of the Crowne, then hee that by colour of right, clayming it, carried it by dint of force.

But such was the condition of the time, that hee supposed it was vaine, for him to stirre, where King Richard could not stand: Whereupon hee dissembled, either that hee saw his wrong, or that hee regarded it; and chose rather to sup­presse his title for a time, then by untimely opposing himselfe, to have it oppressed and depressed for ever: to this end hee with­drew himselfe farre from London, to his Lordship of Wigmore, [Page 116] in the West parts of the Realme, and there setled himselfe to a private and close life: Idlenesse and vacancy from publike affaires, he accounted a vertue, and a deepe point of wis­dome to meddle with nothing, whereof no man was chargeable to yeeld a reckoning. In revenues hee was meane, in apparell moderate, in company and traine not excessive, (yet in all these honourable, and ac­cording to his degree) so that they which esteemed men by outward appearance only, could see in him no great shew, either of wit and cou­rage in his mind to be feared; or of wealth and honour in his estate to bee envied. And thus whilest a greater enemy was feared, hee passed unre­garded; making himselfe safe by con­tempt, where nothing was so dange­rous as a good opinion; and taking up those coales in obscurity for a time, which shortly after set all the Realme on fire.

King Henry presently after his co­ronation, created his eldest sonne [Page 217] Lord Henry, being then about xiii. yeares of age, Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornewall, and Earle of Chester, and soone after he created him also Duke of Aquitaine. After­wards it was enacted, by consent of all the states of the Realme, assem­bled together in the Parliament, that the inheritance of the Crownes and Realmes of England, and of France, and of all the Dominions to them appertaining, should bee united and remaine in the person of King Hen­ry, and in the heires of his body lawfully begotten: and that Prince Henry his eldest sonne, should be his heyre apparant, and successor in the premises: and if hee should dye without lawfull issue, then they were entayled to his other sonnes successively in order, and to the heyres of their bodies lawfully be­gotten.

The inheritance of the Kingdome being in this sort setled in King Hen­ry and in his line, it was moved in the parliament what should be done with [Page 218] King Richard. The Bishop of Caer­liel, who was a man learned and wise, and one that alwayes used both liberty and constancy in a good cause; in his secret judgement did never give allowance to these pro­ceedings: yet dissembled his dislike untill hee might to some purpose declare it: therefore now being in place to be heard of all, and by or­der of the house, to be interrupted by none, hee rose up and with a bold and present spirit, uttered his mind as followeth.

This question (right honourable Lords) concerneth a matter of great consequence and weight: the de­termining whereof will assuredly procure, either safe quiet, or dange­rous disturbance, both to our particu­lar consciences, and also to the com­mon state. Therefore before you re­solve upon it, I pray you call to your considerations these two things: Frist, whether King Richard be sufficiently deposed or no: Secondly, whether King Henry bee with good judge­ment [Page 219] or justice chosen in his place. For the first point we are first to exa­mine, whether a King, being law­fully and fully instituted by any just title, may upon impution either of negligence, or of tyrannie, be de­posed by his subjects: Secondly, what King Richard hath omitted in the one, or committed in the other, for which hee should deserve so heavy judgement. I will not speake what may be done in a popular state, or in a Consular; in which although one beareth the name and honour of a Prince, yet hee hath not supreme power of Ma­jestie; but in the one, the people have the highest Empire; in the o­ther, the Nobility, and chiefe men of estate; in neither, the Prince. Of the first sort was the common-wealth of the Lacedaemoans, who after the form of government w ^ch Licurgus framed, oftentimes fined, oftentimes fettered their kings, and sometimes condem­ned them to death: such were also in Caesars time, the petty Kings [Page 220] of every Citie in France; who were many times arraigned upon life and death, and (as Ambiorix Prince of the Leodienses confessed) had no greater power over the people, then the people had over them. Of the second condition were the Roman Emperours at the first; of whom some, namely, Nero and Maximinus were openly condemned, others were suddenly surprized by judge­ment, Tranquil. in Caligu­la. Tacitus in Proaemio. and authority of the Senate: and such are now the Emperors of Germany, whom the other Princes by their Aristocraticall power, doe not only restraine, but sometimes also re­move from their Imperiall state: such are also the Kings of Denmarke, and Sweveland, who are many times by the Nobility dejected, either into prison, or into exile: such likewise are the Dukes of Venice, and of some other free states in Italy: and the chiefest cause for which Lewes Earle of Flaunders was lately expelled from his place, was for drawing to himselfe cognisance in matters of life [Page 221] and death, which high power never pertained to his dignity.

In these and such like govern­ments, the Prince hath not regall rights, but is himselfe subject to that power which is greater then his, whether it bee in the Nobility or in the common people. But if the So­veraigne Majesty be in the Prince, as it was in the three first Empires, and in the Kingdome of Iudea, and Isra­el; and is now in the kingdomes of England, France, Spaine, Scotland, Muscovia, Turky, Tartaria, Persia, Ethiopia, and almost all the king­domes of Asia, and Africke: al­though for his vices he be unprofita­ble to the subjects, yea hurtfull, yea intollerable: yet can they lawfully neither harme his person, nor ha­zard his power, whether by judge­ment, or else by force: for neither one, nor all Magistrates have any authority over the Prince, from whom all authority is derived, and whose only presence doth silence, and suspend all inferiour jurisdiction [Page 222] and power. As for force, what subject can attempt, or assist, or counsaile, or conceale violence a­gainst his Prince, and not incurre the high and hainous crime of trea­son?

It is a common saying, thought is free: free indeed from punishment of secular lawes, except by word or deed it breake forth into action: Yet the secret thoughts against the sacred Majesty of a Prince, without attempt, without endeavour, have beene adjudged worthy of death: and some who in auriculer confes­sion, have discovered their treache­rous devises against the person of their Prince, have afterwards been executed for the same. All Lawes doe exempt a mad man from punish­ment: because their actions are not governed by their will and purpose: and the will of man being set aside, all his doings are indifferent, neither can the body offend without a cor­rupt or erronious mind: yet if a mad man draw his sword upon his King, [Page 223] it hath beene adjudged to deserve death. And lest any man should surmise that Princes, for the maintenance of their owne safety and soveraignety, are the onely Authors of these judgements; let us a little consider the Patternes and Preceprs of Holy Scripture. Ne­buchadnezzar King of Assyria, wasted all Palestine with fire and sword, oppugned Hierusalem a long time, and at the last expugned it: sl [...]e the King: burnt the Tem­ple: tooke away the Holy Vessels and Treasure: the rest hee permit­ted to the cruelty and spoyle of his unmercifull souldiers: who defiled all places with rape and slaughter, and ruinated to the ground that flourishing Citie: after the glut of this bloody butchery, the people which remayned, he led cap­tive into Chaldaea: and there erected his golden Image; and commanded that they which refused to worship it, should bee cast into a fiery Furnace.

[Page 224]What cruelty, what injustice, what impiety is comparable to this? and yet God calleth Nebuchadnezzar his servant, and promiseth hyre and wages for his service: and the Pro­phets Ieremiah and Baruch did write unto the Iewes to pray for the life of him, Ier. 25 9. Ezech. 29 18. Ier. 29 7. Bacuch. 1.11. and of Baltazar his sonne, that their dayes might bee upon earth as the dayes of Heaven: and Ezechiel with bitter termes abhorteth the disloyalty of Zedechia, because he re­volted from Nebuchadnezzar, whose homager and tributary he was. What shall we say of Saul? did hee not put all the Priests to execution, be­cause one of them did relieve holy and harmelesse David? did hee not violently persecute that his most faithfull servant and dutifull sonne in law? during which pursuit, he fell twice into the power of David; who did not only spare, but also protect the King, and reproved the Pretorian souldiers for their negligent watch, and was touched in heart for cutting away the lap of his garment: and [Page 225] afterwards caused the Messenger to bee slaine, who upon request and for pitty, had lent his hand (as hee said) to help forward the voluntary death of that sacred King. As for the con­trary examples: as that of So did Domitian put to death E­paphrodi­tus, Neroes libertine, because he helped Nero (al­though in love) to kill him­selfe. So did Seve­rus kill all the killers of Perti­nax his Predecessour; and likewise Vitellius did put to death all the murtherers of Galba. Theophilus Emperour of Grecia caused all those to bee slaine, who had made his Father Emperour, by killing Leo Ar [...] ­nius. And Alexander the great put to cruell execu­tion, those that had slaine Darius his mighty and mor­tall enemy. Iehu who slew Iehoram and Ahazia, Kings of Israel and Iuda: they were done by expresse oracle and revelation from God, and are no more set downe for our imitation, then the robbing of the Aegyptians, or any other par­ticular and priviledged Commande­ment; but in the generall Precept, which all men must ordinarily fol­low, not onely our actions, but our speeches also, and our very thoughts are strictly charged with duty and obedience unto Princes, whether they bee good or evill, the law of [Page 226] God ordaineth: Deut. 17.12. That hee which doth presumptuously against the Ruler of the people shall dye: Psal. 105. and the Prophet David forbiddeth, to touch the Lords annointed. Exod. 22.28. Act. 23.5. Thou shalt not (saith the Lord) raile upon the Iudges, neither speake evill against the Ruler of the people. And the Apostles doe de­mand further, Rom. 13.1.13. Tit. 3.1. 1 Pet. 2.13, 14, 17. 2 Tim 2.2 that even our thoughts and soules be obedient to higher powers. And least any should ima­gine that they meant of good Princes onely, they speake gene­rally of all; and further to take away all doubt, they make expresse menti­on of the evill. For the power and authority of wicked Princes is the ordinance of God; Rom. 13.2. and therefore CHRIST told Pilate, Iohn 19.11. that the power which hee had was given him from above; and the Prophet Esay calleth Cyrus, being a Prophane and Heathen Prince, Cap. 45.1. the Lords an­nointed. For God stirred up the Spirit even of wicked Princes to doe his will; 2 Chron. 36.22. and (as Iehosaphat said to his Rulers) they execute not the judge­ment [Page 227] of man, but of the Lord: 2 Chron. 19.6. Psal. 28. in regard whereof David calleth them Gods; because they have their rule and authority immediately from God: which if they abuse, they are not to bee adjudged by their Sub­jects, for no power within their Do­minion is superiour to theirs: but God reserveth them to the forest triall: Sap. 6. Horribly and sodainly (saith the Wisem [...]n) will the Lord appear [...] unto them, and a hard judgement shall they have.

The law of God commandeth, that the Childe should bee put to death, for any con [...]umely done unto the Parents: but what if the Father be a robber? if a murtherer? if for all excesse of villanies, odious and exe­crable both to God and man? surely hee deserveth the highest degree of punishment, and yet must not the Sonne lift up his hand against him, for no offence is so great as to bee punished by parricide: but our Coun­trey is deerer unto us then our Pa­rents: Quintil. in declam. Cic. offic. lib. 1. and the Prince is Pater pa­triae, [Page 228] the Father of our Countrey: and therefore more sacred and deere unto us, then our Parents by nature, and must not bee violated, how im­perious, how impious so ever hee bee: doth hee command or demand, our persons or our purses, wee must not shunne for the one, nor shrinke for the other: for (as Nehemiah saith,) Kings have Dominion over the bodies and over the cattle of their Subjects, Nehem 9.37. at their pleasure. Doth hee enjoyne those actions which are contrary to the lawes of God? wee must neither wholy obey, nor violently resist, but with a constant courage submit our selves to all manner of punishment, and shew our subjection by endu­ring, and not performing: yea the Church hath declared it to bee an Heresie, Alphons. a cas [...] in l [...]b. de baer [...]s. in verb. Ti­ran. Dom Sot. lib. 5. de just. & jur. q. 1 artic. 3. to hold that a Prince may be slaine or deposed by his Subjects, for any disorder or default, either in life, or else in government, there will bee faults so long as there are men: and as we endure with patience a barren yeare, if it happen, and unsea­sonable [Page 229] weather, and such other de­fects of nature, so must wee tollerate the imperfections of Rulers and quietly expect, either reformation, or else a change.

But alas good King Richard, what such cruelty? what such impiety hath he ever committed? examine right­ly those imputations which are laid against him, without any false cir­cumstance of aggravation, and you shall find nothing objected, either of any truth, or of great moment. It may bee that many errours and o­versights have escaped him, yet none so grievous to bee termed tyranny; as proceeding rather from unexpe­rienced ignorance, or corrupt coun­saile, then from any naturall and wil­full malice. Oh, how shall the World bee pestered with Tyrants, if Sub­jects may rebell upon every pre­tence of tyranny? how many good Princes shall dayly bee suppressed by those, by whom they ought to bee supported? if they leavy a sub­sidy, or any other taxation▪ it shall [Page 230] bee claimed oppression: if they put any to death for trayterous attempts against their Persons, it shall bee exclaimed cruelty: if they doe any thing against the lust and liking of the people, it shall bee proclaimed tyranny.

But let it bee, that without autho­rity in us, or desert in him, King Ri­chard must bee deposed: yet what right had the Duke of Lancaster to the Crowne? or what reason have wee without his right to give it to him? if hee make title as Heire unto King Richard, then must hee yet stay untill King Richards death: for no man can succeed as Heire to one that liveth. But it is well knowne to all men, who are not either wil­fully blind or grossely ignorant, that there are some now alive. Lineally descended from L [...]onel Duke of Clarence, whose off-spring was by judgement of the High Court of Parliament holden the eight yeare of the raigne of King Richard, de­clared next Successour to the [Page 231] Crowne, in case King Richard should dye without issue. Concerning the title from Edmund Crouchback, I will passe it over, seeing the authours thereof are become ashamed of so absurd abuse, both of their owne knowledge▪ and our credulity, and therefore all the claime is now made, by right of conquest; by the cession and grant of King Richard; and by the generall consent of all the people. It is a bad wooll that can take no colour: but what con­quest can a Subject pretend against his Soveraigne, where the warre is insurrection, and the victory high and heinous treason? as for the re­signation which King Richard made, being a pent Prisoner for the same cause; it is an act exacted by force: and therefore of no force and va­lidity to bind him: and seeing that by the lawes of this Land, the King alone cannot alienate the ancient Jewels and ornaments partai­ning to the Crowne, surely hee cannot give away the Crowne [Page 232] it selfe, and therewithall the King­dome.

Neither have wee any custome, that the people at pleasure should elect their King: but they are al­wayes bound unto him, who by right of bloud is right successour; much lesse can they confirme and make good that title, which is before by violence usurped: for nothing can then be freely done, when liberty is once restrained by feare. So did Scilla by terrour of his Legions, obtaine the law of Velleia to be made, where­by hee was created Dictatour for fourescore yeares: and by like im­pression of feare, Caesar caused the law Servia to bee promulged, by which hee was made perpetuall Dictatour: but both these lawes were afterwards adjudged void. As for the deposing of King Edward the second it is no more to bee urged, then the poisoning of King Iohn, or the mur­dering of any other good and law­full Prince: we must live according to lawes, and not to examples: and [Page 233] yet the Kingdome was not then ta­ken from the lawfull successour. But if we looke back to times lately past, we shall find that these titles were more strong in King Stephen, then they are in the Duke of Lancaster. For King Henry the first being at large liberty, neither restrained in bo­dy, nor constrained in mind, had ap­pointed him to succeed: (as it was upon good credit, certainely affir­med;) The people assented to this de­signement; and thereupon without feare, and without force, he was an­nointed King, and obtained full pos­session of the Realme. Yet Henry (Sonne of the Earle of Anjowe) ha­ving a neerer right by his Mother to the Crowne, (notwithstanding his Father was a stranger, and himselfe borne beyond the Seas (raised such rough warres upon King Stephen, that there was no end of spoiling the goods and spilling the bloud of the unhappy people, besides the ruines and deformities of many Ci­ties and Holds; untill his lawfull [Page 234] inheritance was to him assured. It terrifieth mee to remember how many flourishing Empires, and Kingdomes have beene by meanes of such contentions either torne in pieces with detestive division, or subdued to forreigne Princes, under pretence of assistance and aid: and I need not repeate how sore this Realme hath heretofore beene sha­ken with these severall mischieves: and yet neither the e [...]amples of o­ther Countries, nor the miseries of our owne, are sufficient to make us to beware.

O English men, worse bewitched then the foolish Galathians; our un­stayed minds and restlesse resolu­tions, doe nothing else but hunt af­ter our owne harmes: no people have more hatred abroad, and none lesse quiet at home: in other Coun­tries the sword of invasion hath beene shaken against us: in our owne land, the fire of insurrection hath beene kindled among us: and what are these innovasions▪ but whetstones [Page 235] to sharpen the one and bellowes to blow up the other.

Certainely I feare that the same will happen unto us which Aesop fableth to have beene fallen unto the Frogges; who being desirous to have a King, a beame was given unto them: the first fall whereof did put them in some feare, but when they saw it lye still in the streame, they insulted thereon with great con­tempt, and desired a King of quicker courage [...] then was sent unto them a Storke, which stalking among them with stately steps, continually devoured them. The mildnesse of King Richard hath bred in us this scorne, interpreting it to bee cowar­dise and dulnesse of nature: the next Heire is likewise rejected: I will not say that with greater courage we shall find greater cruelty; but if ei­ther of these shall hereafter bee able to set up their side, and bring the matter to triall by armes, I doe assu­redly say, that which part soever shall carry the fortune of the field, the [Page 236] people both wayes must goe to wrack. And thus have I declared my mind concerning this question, in more words then your wisedom, yet fewer then the weight of the cause doth require: and doe boldly con­clude, that we have neither power nor policy, either to depose King Richard, or to elect Duke Henry in his place; that King Richard remai­neth still our Soveraigne Prince, and therefore it is not lawfull for us to give judgement upon him; that the Duke whom you call King, hath more offended against the King and the Realme, then the King hath done, either against him or us; for being ba­nished the Realme for tenne yeares by the King and his Counsaile (a­mongst whom his owne Father was chiefe) and sworne not to returne a­gaine without speciall license: hee hath not onely violated his oath, but with impious armes disturbed the quiet of the Land, and dispossessed the King from his Royall estate, and now demandeth judgement against [Page 237] his person, without offence proved, or defence heard. If this injury and this perjury doth nothing move us, yet let both our private and com­mon dangers somewhat withdraw us from these violent procee­dings.

This speech was diversly taken, as men were diversly affected be­tweene feare, hope, and shame: yet the most part did make shew for King Henry, and thereupon the Bi­shop was presently attached by the Earle Marshall, and committed to prison in the Abbey of Saint Albones, whose counsaile and conjecture then contemned, was afterwards better thought upon; partly in the life time of King Henry, during whose raigne, almost no yeare passed without great slaughters and executions: but more especially in the times succeeding, when within the space of 36. yeares, twelve set battailes upon this quar­rell were fought within the Realme by English men onely: and more then fourescore Princes [Page 238] of the Royall bloud slaine one by a­nother.

Then it was concluded, that King Richard should bee kept in a large prison, with all manner of Princely maintenance: and if any persons should conspire to reare warre for his deliverance, that hee should bee the first man who should suffer death for that attempt. Then the Acts of the Parliament holden at Westmin­ster, in the 11. yeare of King Richard, were revived; and the Parliament holden the 21. yeare of King Richard was wholly repealed: and they who were attainted by that Parliament, were restored againe to their fame and honour, and to their Lands, with­out suing livery, and to such goods whereof the King was not answe­red, except the rents and issues which had beene received out of their lands in the meane time. Hereupon, Ri­chard Earle of Warwick was deli­vered out of prison, and the Earle of Arundels Sonne recovered his in­heritance: many others also that [Page 239] were banished or imprisoned by King Richard, were then fully re­stored againe, to their Countrey, Li­berty, and Estate.

It was further provided, that none of those which came in aid of King Henry against King Richard, should for that cause bee impeached or troubled. Also the King gave to the Earle of Westmerland the Coun­ty of Richmond; and to the Earle of Northumberland hee gave the Ile of Man ▪ to bee houlden of him by the service of bearing the sword, wherewith hee entred into Eng­land. Divers other of his follow­ers he advanceth to offices of high­est place and charge, some upon judgement and for desert, but most part to winne favour, and per­haps projecting a plot for friends, if times should change: for in ma­ny actions men take more care to prevent revenge, then to lead an innocent and harmelesse life.

It was further agreed, that the Procurers of the death and Murther [Page 240] of Thomas late Duke of Gloucester, should bee searched out and severe­ly punished. And judgement was given against the appellants of the Earle of Warwick and the Earle of Arundel, that the Dukes of Aumerle, Sussex, and Exceter, the Marquesse of Dorset, and the Earle of Glou­cester who were present, should loose their degree of honour for them and their Heires: that they should likewise loose all the Castles, Mannours, Lordships, &c. then in their hands which sometimes ap­pertained to those whom they did appeale, and that all the letters pa­tents and charters which they had concerning the same, should bee sur­rendred into the Chancery, and there bee cancelled: that for all other their Castles, Mannours, Lordships, Pos­sessions, and Liberties, they should bee at the grace and mercy of the King: that they should give no li­veries, nor keepe any retinue of men, but onely such Officers as were meerely necessary for their [Page 241] degree: that if any of them should adhere to Richard the deposed King, in giving him aid or encou­ragement, against the judgement of his deposition, then hee should incurre the paines and forfeitures of high treason. And because it was a clamorous complaint a­mong the Common people, that many Officers had committed grie­vous extortions and wrongs, ei­ther by the open maintenance or secret connivence of these Lords: First, those Officers were remo­ved, and that corruption taken a­way with integrity, which bribe­ry had wrought, in placing (for money) men of bad quality, in high degrees of office and service: then Proclamations were made, that if any man had beene oppressed by these Lords, or by any Officers un­der them, he should prove his com­plaint, & receive recompence. It was made a question whether it was not meet that these Noble men should be put to death: the importunity of the [Page 242] people, and the perswasion of ma­ny great men drew that way, but policy was against it, and especial­ly the opinion of clemency, which seemed needfull to the setling of a new risen state.

In this Parliament also the Lord Fitzwater appealed the said Duke of Aumerle, Sonne to the Duke of Yorke, upon points of High trea­son: likewise the Lord Monley ap­pealed Iohn Montacu [...]e Earle of Sa­lisbury, and more then twenty o­ther appealants waged battaile; but the King purposing to lay the foun­dation of his Realme by favour and not by force, gave pardon and re­stitution alike to all, upon sureties and band for their allegeance: and in a sweet and moderate oration hee admonisheth, and as it were in­treated the one part, that old griefes and grudges should not bee re­newed, but buried together with the memory of former times, wherein men were forced to doe many things against their minds: [Page 243] the other part hee desired to bee more regardfull of their actions af­terwards, and for the time past, ra­ther to forget that ever they were in fault, then to remember that they were pardoned. No punishment was laid upon any, save onely the Earle of Salisbury and the Lord Morley, who had beene in espe­ciall grace and favour with King Richard [...] these two were commit­ted to prison, but at the sute of their friends they were soone released: the rest the King received freely to favour, but most especially the Duke of Aumerle, and the Duke of Excester, Lord Governour of Calis. The Duke of Aumerle was cousen germane to both the Kings: Iohn Holland Duke of Exeter, was halfe brother to King Richard, and brother in law to King Henry; whose Sister, the Lady Elizabeth, hee had taken to wife. The greatest mat­ter that was enforced against them, was their loialty unto King Ri­chard: (a grievous crime among re­bels) [Page 244] because they did not onely sto­mack and storme at his dejection, but stirre also more then others, and assay to raise forces on his behalfe. The Dukes boldly confessed the ac­cusation, that they were indeed un­fortunately faithfull to King Richard; but as those who once are false, doe seldome afterwards prove soundly firme, so they that have shewed themselves true to one Prince may the better bee trusted by any other. The King did rather admit this as a defence, then remit it as a fault: affir­ming, that such examples were not to bee misliked of Princes: so hee entred with them into great termes of friendship, and put them in place neerest his person, endeavouring by courtesie and liberalty, to make them fast and faithfull unto him: this fact was diversly interpreted, according to mens severall dispositions, some admiring the Kings moderation, o­thers disliking and disallowing his confidence; and indeed, although these meanes have to this purpose [Page 245] prevailed with some, yet the com­mon course may move us common­ly to conjecture, that there is little assurance in reconciled enemies: whose affections (for the most part) are like unto Glasse; which being once cracked, can never bee made otherwise then crazed and un­sound.

Furthermore, to qualifie all prejudice and hard opinion which other Princes might chance to conceive, King Henry dispatched Embassadours to divers Countries neere unto him, to make it knowne by what title, and by what fa­vour and desire of all the peo­ple hee attained the Kingdome. To the Court of Rome, hee sent Iohn Trevenant Bishop of Here­ford, Sir Iohn Cheyney Knight, and Iohn Cheyney Esquire: into France hee sent Walter Sherlow Bishop of Durham, and Lord Thomas Pearcy Earle of Worcester: into Spaine, hee sent Iohn Trevor Bishop of S. Assaphes, and Sir William Parre, [Page 246] and into Almaine hee sent the Bi­shop of Bangor, and certaine other. Most of these Princes (as in a mat­ter which little concerned either their honour or their harme) see­med either not to regard what was done, or easily to bee perswaded that all was done well. But Charles King of France, was so distempered at this dishonourable dealing with his Sonne in law King Richard; that by violence of his passion, hee fell into his old panges of phrensie: and at the last by helpe of physick returning to the sobriety of his sences, hee purposed to make sharpe warre upon that disloyall people (as hee termed them) for this in­jury against their lawfull and harme­lesse Prince. Many Noble men of France shewed themselves very forward to enter into the service, but especially the Earle of Saint Paul, who had married King Ri­chards halfe Sister. So letters of de­fiance were sent into England, and great preparation was made for the warre.

[Page 247]Likewise the newes of these no­velties much abashed the Aquitanes (who were at that time under the English subjection) and plunged their thoughts in great perplexities. Some were grieved at the infa­mous blemish of the English na­tion, who had destained their ho­nour with the spot of such disloyall dealing: others feared the spoile of their goods, and oppression of their liberties by the French-men; against whose violence they suspe­cted that the Realme of England, being distracted into civill factions, either would not attend, or should not bee able to beare them out: but the Citizens of Burdeaux were chiefely anguished in respect of King Richard, partly fretting at his injury, and partly lamenting his in­fortunity; because hee was borne and brought up within their Ci­ty. And thus in the violence, some of their anger, some of their griefe, and some of their feare, in this sort they did generally complaine.

[Page 248]O good GOD (said they) where is the World become? Saints are turned to Serpents, and Doves into Divels. The English nation which hath beene accompted fierce onely against their foes, and alwayes faith­full to their friends; are now become both fierce and faith lesse against their lawfull and loving Prince, and have most barbarously betrayed him. Who would ever have thought that Christians, that civill people, that any men, would thus have vio­lated all Religion, all Lawes, and all honest and orderly demeanure? And although the Heavens blush at the view, and the Earth sweat at the burthen of so vile a villany, and all men proclaime and exclaime upon shame and confusion against them: yet they neither feele the hor­rour; nor shrinke at the shame, nor feare the revenge; but stand upon tearmes, some of defence for the law­fulnesse of their dealing, and some of excuse for the necessity. Well, let them bee able to blind the [Page 249] world, and to resist mans revenge; yet shall they never be able to escape either the sight or vengeance of Al­mighty God; which we daily ex­pect, and earnestly desire to bee powred upon them. Alas good King Richard, thy nature was too gentle, and thy government too mild for so stiffe and stubborne a peo­ple: what King will ever repose any trust in such unnaturall subjects, but fetter them with Lawes, as theeves are with Irons? What car­riage hereafter can recover their cre­dit? What time will bee sufficient to blot out this blemish? What other action could they have done, more joyfull to their enemies, more wo­full to their friends, and more shame­full to themselves? Oh corrup­tion of times! Oh conditions of men!

The French-men were nothing discontented at this discontenement of the Aquitanes, supposing that op­portunity was then offered, to get in­to their possession the Dutchie of [Page 250] Guian, if either power or policie were thereto applyed. Hereupon L [...]wes Duke of Burbon came downe to Angiers, who from thence sent many messengers to the chiefe cities of Guian, and by faire speeches and large promises, solicited the people to change alleageance: on the con­trary side, Sir Robert Knowles Lieu­tenant of Guian, endeavoured with al diligence to represse the mutinous, to stay the doubtfull, to confirme the good, and to retaine all in order and obedience: but hee profited very little, whether by the weaknesse of his owne arme, or stiffe neck of the people it is not certainely assured, Neither did the Duke of Burbone much prevaile, when it was conside­red, how ponderous the yonke of France was above the English subje­ction: for all men were well ac­quainted with what tributes and taxations the French men were char­ged, having in every countrey Liev­tenants and Treasurers assigned, the one to draw the blood, the [Page 251] other the substance of the slavish subjects, whose c [...]uelty and cove­tousnesse laid hold without excep­tion upon all, the one tormenting by force, and the other undoing by Law. Thus stood the Aquitanes upon tickle tearmes betweene obe­dience and revolt, as a ship which the wind driveth one way, & the tide another: desirous they were to displease the English, but loath to endanger and undoe themselves.

Vpon advertisement whereof, King Henry sent into Guian, the Lord Thomas Perce Earle of Wor­cester, whom hee knew to bee faithfull unto him, and expert in matters of charge, having in his company a strong and serviceable band of souldie [...]s: who not by un­seasonable exprobating their fault, but by reason, convincing it, partly with his wisdome and cre­dit so perswaded, and partly with his authority and forces so terrified the wavering people, that hee wanne them to his [Page 252] opinion, and confirmed them in their alleageance; the graver sort with respect of duty and faith, the rest with regard and feare of danger. Then hee received oaths of obedi­ence unto King Henry, and planted certaine strong garrisons in places of chiefe import, without molestation if they remayned quiet, and yet of force to represse them, if they should rebell. This done, he turned againe into England, where he shewed an excellent example of moderation, in seeming rather to have found, then to have made the Aquitanes dutifull subjects.

No sooner could this stirre be stin­ted, but another more dangerous and desperate did forthwith arise: for divers noble men who either had dissembled, or did repent the fur­therance that they used to the ad­vancement of King Henry, did con­spire together to compasse his de­struction: the Histories of that time doe vary, concerning the causes of this conspiracy; whether it were for [Page 253] favour to King Richard, as the nature of man is inclinable, to behold sud­daine misfortune with a pittifull eye; or for envy to King Henry, as com­monly wee can endure excessive for­tune, no where so little as in those that have beene in equall degree with our selves: or whether upon dishonours received in the late Par­liament, or upon disdaine to see o­thers goe before them in the Princes favour, many sought to revenge their unjust anger with lewd disloyalty: likewise it is not assuredly known by what meanes the workers thereof were drawne together, and the secret devises of some imparted to the rest: whether one of them did perswade another to enter into the action, or whether all were induced by the same unconstant disposition, and light ac­count of faith: which being once falsed to K. Richard, was afterwards upon every light discontentment little respected to any: but concer­ning these matters, the most curr [...]nt report is this.

[Page 254]There was at that time an Abbot of Westminster, one that applyed his studies, not as the most part, to cloake idlenesse and sloath under the glorious title of religion, but to en­able himselfe for counsaile and dire­ction in publike affaires; who for the generall opinion of his wisdome and integrity: was in good favour and credit with King Richard, and did accompany him in his last voyage into Ireland.

This Abbot called to his remem­brance, a speech which hee heard once fall from King Henry, when hee was but Earle of Derby, and not yet come to any great stayednesse, either in yeares or judgement; that Princes had too little, and religious men too much.

At that time the riches of the Church were growne so great, that many began to looke upon them with an envious eye; but lest cove­tousnesse should shew it selfe with open face, policie was pretended, and the excesse thought dangerous, [Page 255] both to the King and also to the Clergy; as very like to cause want to the one, and wantonnesse in the other.

Hereupon many bils had been put up in the Parliaments holden in the raigne of King Richard, that provi­sion might bee made to represse the increase of riligious possessions; namely, that inquisition and redresse might be had against such religious persons, as under the licence to pur­chase ten pounds yearly, did purchase fourescore, or a hundred pounds: and also against such religious per­sons as caused their villaines to take to their wives free-women, inheri­table, whereby the Lands came to those religious mens hands: yea it was moved in open Parliament, that the King should seaze into his hands, all the temporall Livings of religious houses, as being rather a burthen, then a benefit unto re­ligion.

[Page 256]Vpon these and the like Petitions, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Archbishop of Yorke, for them­selves and the Clergy of their Pro­vinces, were oftentimes compelled to make their solemne protestations in open Parliament, that if any thing were attempted in restraint of the li­berty of the Church, they would in no wise assent, but utterly withstand the same: the which their protesta­tions they required to be enrouled.

So partly upon love to King Ri­chard, and partly upon feare, least K. Henry would be as ready to invade, as he was to inveigh against the rich­nesse of religious houses: this Abbot was the first man that blew the coales and put fewell to the fire of this con­federacy. And first hee observed a farre off, then hee searched more neerly and narrowly (and yet ware­ly too) how the minds of certaine Noble-men were affected, or rather infected against King Henry; tempe­ring his speeches in such sort, that if matters sorted to his mind, hee might [Page 257] take them upon him, if his courses were crossed, hee might clearely disclaime them: at last hee invited to his house upon a day, in Michael­mas tearme, those whom he had sounded to bee most sound for his purpose: the chiefe of whom were such as in the Parliament before had in some sort beene touched in reputa­tion, although by pardon a [...]d recon­cilement the harme did seeme to bee closed up: their names were Iohn Holland Duke of Exeter, of whom mention hath beene made before, Thomas Holland his brothers Sonne, Duke of Surrey, Edward, Duke of Aumerle, Iohn Montacute, Earle of Salisbury, Hugh Spencer, Earle of Glocester, Iohn Bishop of Caerliele, Sir Thomas Blunt, and Magdalen, one of King Richards Chappell, who in all points, both of feature and fa­vour, so neerly resembled King Ri­chard, that the Lords dissembled af­terwards, that hee was King Richard indeed.

These and some others were high­ly [Page 258] feasted by the Abbot: and after dinner they withdrew themselves, into a secret Chamber to counsaile: here the Duke of Exceter, who was most hotly bent, either to restore, or to revenge the cause of his depo­sed brother, declared unto the rest, the allegeance that they had sworne unto King Richard: the honours and preferments whereunto they were by him advanced: that therefore they were bound both in conscience by the one, and in kindnesse by the other, to take his part against all men: that King Henry contrary to both, had dispoyled him of his royall dignity, and unjustly pos­sessed himselfe thereof, whilest they stood looking on, and shewed neither the obedience of subjects, nor love of friends, as though they were men who, knew to doe any thing, better then to defend, and if need were to dye for their lawfull Prince and loving Patron: that King Henry by violent invading, or frau­dulent insinuating himselfe, into [Page 259] the kingdom of his naturall & liege Prince, was but a tyrant & usurper, & such aone as it was lawful for any man, by any means to throw down, with­out respect whether hee were a good man or evill, for it is lawfull for no man upon pretence & shew of good­nes, to draw soveraignty unto himself; that the laws & examples of best go­verned common-wealths, did not on­ly permit this action, but highly hono­red it with statues & garlands, & title▪ of Nobility, & also rewarded it with al the wealth of the suppressed tyrant: that this enterprize would be very profitable, & almost necessary to the Common-wealth, by extinguishing those wars which the Scots menaced▪ the French-men prepared, & the Welshmen had already begun upon this occasion and quarrell: that he did not distrust but it might be accompli­shed by open armes, but he thought it more sure for them, and for the Com­mon-wealth more safe, to put first in proofe some secret policy: and to that purpose hee devis [...], that a [Page 260] solemne Iusts should bee challenged, to be keept at Oxford, in Christmasse holy-dayes, betweene him and twen­ty on his part, and the Earle of Salis­bury and twenty on his part, to which King Henry should be invited: and when hee was most intentive in re­garding their military disport, hee should suddenly be surprised by men, which without suspition, might at that time bee assembled, both for number and preparation suf­ficient for the exployt, and thereby King Richard presently be restored, both to his liberty, and to his estate.

This devise was no sooner utte­red, then allowed and applauded of the rest of the confederates: and so resolving upon the Enterprize, they tooke an oath upon the Evangelists, the one to bee true and secret to the other, even to the houre and point of death: the Lords also made an In­denture sextiparti [...]e, wherein they bound themselves, to doe their best assay, for the death of the one King, and deliverance of the other: this [Page 261] they sealed and subscribed, and delive­red to every Lord a counter-pane of the same: and further they con­cluded what forces should be gathe­red, by whom, how they should bee ordered & placed, and to whose trust the execution should be committed.

When all things were thus contri­ved, and their hungry ambitious minds were well filled with the vain winds of hope and desire: the Duke of Exeter came to the King at Wind­sore, & desired him for the love that he bare to the noble feats of Chevalry, that hee would vouchsafe to honour with his presence the martiall exer­cise, that was appointed betweene him and the Earle of Salisbury, and to be the Iudge of their performan­ces, if any controversie should arise.

The King supposing that to be in­tended indeed, which was pretended in show, easily yeelded to his request. The Duke supposing his purpose now halfe performed, departed to his house, and so did the other consede­rates▪ where they busily bestirred [Page 262] themselves, in raysing men, and pre­paring horse and armour for the ac­complishment of this act.

When the Dutchesse of Exceter, K. Henries sister perceived the drift of the devise, and saw that the Duke was upon his journey: alas good Lady how was shee distracted in mind, with a sharpe conflict of her con­ceipts? one way she was moved wi [...]h nature towards her brother; another way she was more strongly stirred, with love towards her Lord and hus­band: and both wayes she was divi­ded in duty. And what ( [...]aid shee) is this love then against nature? or a­bove it? shall I bee undutifull to my Prince? or is no duty comparable to the duty of a wife? heigh ho: in what perplexities (wretched woman) am I plunged, to see my two dearest friends in this case of extremity, that (it is doubtfull which but) certainely one must bee ruined by the other. Herewith such a shower of teares streamed downe her cheekes, that it drowned her speech, and stopped [Page 263] the passage of further complaint: which when the Duke espyed, hee stepped unto her, and seazing softly upon her hand, used these words. What Besse? is it kind­nesse to me, or kindred to your bro­ther that thus hath set your eyes on sloate? Content your selfe wo­man, for whatsoever the event shall bee, it cannot bee evill to you, nor worse to mee then now it is. For if my purpose prevaile, and my brother be restored againe to his Crowne, both of us shall bee sure never to decline: if it be prevented, and your brother continue still in his estate, no harme shall bee done unto you, and I shall bee sure then of that destru­ction which I doe now continually dread; the feare whereof in expe­cting, is a greater torment then the paine in suffering. When he had thus said, hee kissed her, and so leaving her to the torture of a thousand thorny thoughts, hee tooke his journey towards Oxford, with a [Page 264] great company both of Archers and Horsemen. There hee found all the re [...] of his complices, well armed and banded, except only the Duke of Au­merle.

The King also hearing that both the Challengers and Defendants were in a readinesse, determined the day following to ride to Oxford, ac­cording to his promise and appoint­ment.

Now the confederates much mar­velled at the stay of the Duke of Aumerle, some onely blamed his slacknesse, others began to suspect it, every man conjectured as he was di­versly affected betweene confidence and feare: and in this confusion of opinions, they sent unto him in poste, to know the certaine truth. Before the Messenger came to the Duke, he was departed from Westminster towards Oxford, not the direct way, but went first to see his Father the Duke of Yorke, and carried with him the coun­terpane of the Indenture of confe­deracy. As they sate at dinner, the Fa­ther [Page 167] espied it in his bosome, and de­manded what it was, the son hum­bly craved pardon, and said that it no­thing touched him; by Saint George, (quoth the Father) but I will see it: and so whether upon precedent jea­lousie, or some present cause of sus­pition he tooke it away from him by force. When hee perceived the con­tents, he suddenly arose from the ta­ble, and with great fiercenesse, both of countenance and speech, uttered to his Sonne these words.

I see traytor, that idlenesse hath made thee so wanton and mutinous, that thou playest with thy saith, as children doe with slicks: thou hast beene once already faithlesse to King Richard, and now againe art false to K. Henry, so that like the fish Sopia, thou troublest all the waters where­in thou livest. Thou knowest that in open Parliament I became surety and pledge for thy allegeance, both in bo­dy and goods: and can neither thy duty, nor my desert restraine thee, from seeking my destruction? in [Page 266] faith, but I will rather helpe forward thine. With that hee commanded his Horses to be made ready, and presently tooke his journey towards Windsore, where the King then lay.

The Duke of Aumerle had no time either to consult with his friends, or to consider with himselfe what was best to be done: but taking advise upon the sodaine hee moun­ted likewise on horse-backe, and posted towards Windsore another way. It was no need to force him forward, his youthfull blood, and his sodaine danger were in steed of two wings, to keepe his horse in Pegasus pace: so that hee came to Windsore, and was alighted at the Castle, before his stiffe aged Fa­ther could come neere. Then he en­tred the gates, and caused them to be surely locked, and tooke the keyes into his owne hands, pretending some secret cause for which hee would deliver them unto the King. When hee came in presence [Page 167] hee kneeled down and humbly craved of the King mercy and forgivenesse. The King demanded for what of­fence? Then with a confused voice and sad countenance, casting downe his eyes as altogether abash­ed, partly with feare of his dan­ger, and partly with shame of his discredit; hee declared unto the King all the manner of the conspira­cie. The King seemed neither rash­ly to beleeve, nor negligently to distrust the Dukes report; neither stood it with pollicie to entertaine the discovery with any hard and vio­lent usage: therefore with gra­cious speeches hee comforted the Duke; and if this bee true, said hee, wee pardon you: if it bee feined, at your extreame perill bee it.

By this time the Duke of Yorke was rapping at the C [...]stle gates, and being admitted to the Kings pre­sence, hee delivered to him the Indenture of confederacie, which he had taken from his sonne. When [Page 270] the King had read it, and was thereby perswaded of the truth of the mat­ter, hee was not a little disquieted in mind, complayning of the unconstant disposition of those men, whom nei­ther cruelty (hee said) could make firme to King Richard, nor clemency to him, but upon dislike of every pre­sent government, they were desirous of any change. So being possessed with deeper thoughts, then to gaze upon games, hee layd his journey a­side, and determined to attend at Windsor, what course his enemies would take, and which way they would set forward: knowing right well, that in civill tumults, an advised patience, and opportunity well ta­ken are the onely weapons of ad­vantage; and that it is a speciall point of wisdome, to make benefit of the enemies folly. In the meane time he directed his Letters to the Earle of Northumberland, his high Constable, and to the Earle of Cum­berland, his high Marshall, and to o­thers his most assured friends, concer­ning [Page 271] these sodain and unexpected ac­cidents.

The confederates all this time hearing nothing of the Duke of Au­merle, and seeing no preparation for the Kings comming, were out of doubt that their treason was betray­ed. And now considering that once before they had beene pardoned, the guilt of this their rebellion, excluded them from all hope of further mer­cie: whereupon they became des­perate, and so resolved to prosecute that by open armes, wherein their privie practises had fayled. And first they apparelled Magdalen (a man very like to King Richard, both in stature and countenance, and of yeares not disagreeable) in princely attire; and gave foorth that he was King Richard, and that either by fa­vour or negligence of his Keepers, hee was escaped out of prison, and desired the faith and ayde of his lo­ving subjects. Then they deter­mined to dispatch messengers to Charles King of France, to desire [Page 270] his helpe and assistance on the behalfe of his sonne in law, if need should require.

The common people which com­monly are soone changeable, and on the sodaine, as prone to pitty, as they were before excessively cruell, most earnestly wished the enlargement of King Richard, and earnestly wishing, did easily beleeve it: in which ima­ginary conceit, being otherwise men of no deepe search, the presence of Magdalene most strongly con­firmed them, and so either upon ig­norance of truth, or delight in trou­ble, they joyned themselves in great troops to the Lords: desiring no­thing more then to bee the meanes whereby King Richard should be re­stored, as in a manner resuming their first affections and humours towards him▪ Then the Lords of this asso­ciation with great force, but with greater fame, as the manner is of mat­ters unknowne, advanced forward in battell array towards Windsore, a­gainst King Henry, as against an ene­my [Page 271] of the common state; having in their company above forty thousand armed men. The King upon intel­ligence of their approach, secretly with a few horse, the next sunday night after New-yeares day, depar­ted from Windsore to the Tower of London, and the same night before it was day, the confederates came to the Castle of Windsore: where mis­sing their expected prey, they stood doubtfull and divided in opinions, which way to bend their course. Some advised them with all speed to follow the King to London, and not to leave him any leave and liberty, to unite an Army against them: that Winter was no let but in idle and peaceable times: that in civill dissen­tions nothing is more safe then speed, and greater advantage alwayes groweth by dispatching then defer­ring: that whilest some were in feare, some in doubt, and some igno­rant, the Citie, yea the Realme might easily be possessed: and that many Armies whose fury at the first rush [Page 274] could not be resisted by delayes, did weare out, and waste to nothing. Others who would seeme to be con­siderate and wise, but in very deed were no better then dastards, per­swaded rather to set King Richard first at liberty; for if their counter­feiting should be discovered before they possessed themselves of his per­son, the people undoubtedly would fall from them to the certaine confu­sion of them all. Hereupon they gave over the pursuit, and retyred to Colebrooke, and there delayed out the time of doing, in deliberating, being neither coutagiously quicke, nor considerately stayed, but faintly and fearefully shrinking backe: and when they once began to relent, they decreased every day more and more both in power and in hope.

King Henry the next morning af­ter he was come to the Tower, sent to the Major of the Citie to put Soul­diers in armes for his assistance, who presently presented unto him three thousand Archers, and three thou­sand [Page 273] bill-men, besides those that were appointed for defence of the Citie. The King spent upon him many good speeches, and liberally loaded him with promises and thankes: and soone after hee issued out of London, with twenty thousand tall men, and came to Hounslow Heath, abiding there, and as it were daring his enemies to joyne issue in the field: contemning their disorderly multitude, as a vaine terrour of names without forces. But the confederates, either for feare of the Kings power, or for distrust of their owne, or else ling­ring, perhaps, after some succour out of France, refused the encoun­ter; and doubtfull it is, whether they shewed greater courage in setting up the danger, or cowardise, in de­clining it when it was presented un­to them.

So they departed from Colebrooke to Sunnings, a place neere Red­ding, where Queene Isabell, King Richards wife did then abide: [Page 274] to whom upon the plain truth before declared fame had falsly descanted, that K. Richard was escaped out of prison, and did lye at Pomfret with a hun­dred thousand armed men; and that King Henry for feare of him, was fled with his children and friends to the Tower of London. All which was as lightly beleeved as it was vainely told: whereupon she defa­ced King Henries armes, and plucked away his cognisance from those his servants that attended upon her; and having in some sort satisfied her womannish anger, with this harme­lesse spight, shee and the Lords de­parted together first to Wallingford, and from thence to Abington, stirring the people by the way to take ar­mour, and to rise in ayde of King Richard, who was (said they) and is, and should be their Prince.

At the last they came to Chichester and there the Lords tooke their lodgings, the Duke of Surrey, and the Earle of Salisbury in one Inne; the Duke of Exeter, and the Earle [Page 275] of Gloucester in another; and all the hoast encamped in the fields. But the Bayliffe of the Towne, suspecting all this countenance, to bee but the vaine flash of a false fire, did in the night with about fourescore Archers, beset, and set upon the house where the Duke of Surrey, and the Earle of Salisbury lay; who were men but of weake resistance by nature, but being put upon necessity, shew­ed great man-hood and resistance in defending themselves against the Townsmen. The Duke of Exeter, and the Earle of Gloucester being in another Inne, were not able by force to rescue their associates; whereupon a certaine Priest of their company set divers houses in the Towne on fire, supposing thereby to divert the townsmen from their assault, to the saving of their houses and of their goods: but this fire greatly inflamed their fury, and made them more ob­stinate in their attempt, crying out that they would never labour to res­cue their losses, but to revenge them, [Page 276] and that with the blood of the Lords, vvhose flames should be quenched. Then there arose con­fused clamours, and noyses, all the towne being in an uproare, and in armes, shooting fiercely, and run­ning upon the Lords with a rash and desperate rage; not caring to loose ma­ny, whereof they had many to spare.

When the Earle of Exeter, and they that were with him, perceived the force of the assaylants dange­rously to encrease, and that it was impossible for a few to sustaine the fury of so many so obstinately bent: they fled out of the back-side to­wards the Camp, intending to bring the whole Armie to the rescue: but the souldiers having heard a tumult, and seeing fire within the towne, supposed that the King was entred with all his puissance: whereupon being strooke with a sodain and false feare, and wanting a Commander of courage to confirme them, they ran away, and dispearsed themselves without measure; and so whilst every [Page 277] man endeavoured to save himselfe, all were brought to their confusion.

Thus the Duke of Surrey, and the Earle of Salisbury, and the Lords, and Gentlemen which were in their company, were left to defend themselves against the townes­men as they could: who man­fully maintained the fight with great bloodshed of their ene­mies, from midnight untill three of the clocke the next day in the afternoone: at the last, being inferiour both in number and fortune, the Duke and the Earle were wonded to death and ta­ken, and the same Evening their heads were striken off and sent to London: there were also taken Sir Bennet Shelley, Sir Barnard Brokas, Sir Thomas Blunt, and twenty eight other Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, who were sent to Oxford, where the King then lay, and there were put to execu­tion.

The Duke of Exeter when he found [Page 278] the Army dispersed and fled, fled likewise with Sir Iohn Shelley into Essex, lamenting the certaine de­struction which his rashnesse had pro­cured to himselfe, and to his friends, but most especially to King Richard; if not as a party, yet as a cause of this unhappy tumult; many times hee did attempt to have escaped by Sea into France, but hee was alwayes driven backe by distresse of weather; and so wandring and lurking in secret places, hee was at the last attached as hee sa [...]e at supper in a certain friend [...] house, and led to Plashy, and there shortly after beheaded: so that a man might probably conjecture that the death of the Duke of Gloucester, was then brought in reckoning, who by his counsell and contryvance chiefly, in the same place had beene apprehended. An excellent exam­ple for all those which measure their Actions either by their pleasure, or by their power: that revenge of injurious dealing, although it be pro­longed, yet doth never fayle, but [Page 279] commeth surely, although perhaps slowly. This Duke was a man of high parentage, of a franke mind, and wealth answerable thereunto: openly praise worthy, but his secret actions were hardly spoken of: hee was of consent to all his brothers vi­ces, and of counsaile to many, yet somewhat the more close and vigi­lant man: and not so much partaker of his prosperity, as violently carried with the current of his misery.

The Earle of Gloucester fled to­wards Wales ▪ but was forelayed and taken, and beheaded at Bristow: Magdalen the counterfeit of King Richard, flying into Scotland, was apprehended and brought to the Tower, and afterward hanged and quartered, with W. Ferby, another of King Richards Chaplaines. Di­vers other Lords and Knights, and Gentlemen, and a great number of meane and base persons, were in other places put to death; insomuch as the King, though otherwise of a very temperate, and intreatable na­ture, [Page 280] seemed to shew too hard and haughty dealing in revenging his owne injury, or rather maintaining the injury that hee had done: the heads of the chiefe conspirators, were pitched upon poles, and set over London Bridge: in all other parts of the Realme a spectacle both lamentable and ugly was presented to the view and terrour of others: bodies hewen in peices, heads and quarters of unfortunate dismembred wretches putrifying above ground: not all for desert, but many to sa­tisfie, either the malice, or want of King Henries friends; insomuch as many grave men openly gave forth, that in short time there would be cause to wish King Ri­chard againe, as being more tolle­rable to endure the cruelty of one, then of many, and to live where nothing, then where any thing might bee permitted.

The Abbot of Westminster in whose house, and in whose head the con­federacy began, hearing of these ad­ventures, [Page 281] as hee was going betwene his Monastery and his Mansion fell sodainely into a palsie, and shortly after without speech ended his life; and although in this enterprise for­tune gave policie the check, and by a strange accident, which wisdome could not foresee, overturned the de­vise, yet is it certainely affirmed, that this Abbot first stirred the stone, which rowling along, was like to have turned King Henry out of his seate. The Bishop of Caerliel, was condemned upon this treason, but the extremity of his feare, and griefe, closed up his dayes, and prevented the violence and shame of publike execution. And now King Richard after he had abdicated his dignity, did but short time enjoy that sweet security, which hee did vainely ex­pect, and first all his goods which he did give in satisfaction of the injuries that he had done, were brought to di­vision & share amongst his enemies: shortly after he was removed frō the tower, to the castle of leeds in Kent, [Page 282] and from thence to Pomfret, to the end that by often changing he might either more secretly be dispatched, or more uncertainely found: here be­ing kept in streight prison, both inno­cent and ignorant of this offence, hee was notwithstanding made a party in the punishment. For King Henry perceiving that the Lords so farre prevailed with their late strata­gem, that if their stomack had beene answerable to their strength, and their bold beginning had not ended in faintnesse and sloath, they might have driven him to a hard hazard; caused King Richard to bee put to death, intending to make sure, that no man should cloak open rebellion, un­der the colour of following sides, nor countenance his conspiracy, either with the persō or name of K. Richard: whether he did expresly command his death, or no, it is a question; out of question he shewed some liking and desire to the action, and gave allow­ance thereto when it was done.

The most current report at that [Page 283] time went, that he was princely ser­ved every day at the Table, with a­bundance of costly meats, according to the order prescribed by Parliament, but was not suffered to taste or touch any one of them; and so perished of famine; being tormented with the presence of that, whereof hee dyed for want, but such horrible and unnaturall cruelty, both against a King and a kins-man, should not proceed from King Henry (mee thinke) a man of a moderate and mild disposition, nor yet from any other mind, which is not altogether both savage in humanity, and in religion prophane. One writer who would seeme to have the perfect intellgence of these affayres, maketh report, that King Henry sitting at his Table sad and pensive, with a deepe sigh brake forth into these words: Have I no faithfull friend that will deliver mee of him, whose life will breed destruction to mee and disturbance to the Realme, and whose death will bee a safety and quiet to both? for how [Page 284] can I be free from feare, so long as the cause of my danger doth conti­nue? and what security, what hope shall we have of peace, unlesse the seed of sedition bee utterly rooted out.

Vpon this speech a certain Knight called Sir Pierce of Extone, presently parted from the Court, accompanied with eight tall men, and came to Pomfret, and there commanded, that the Esquire, who was accusto­med to sewe, and take the assay be­fore King Richard, should no more use that manner of service: and let him (quoth hee) now eat well, for he shall not eat long▪ King Richard sate downe to dinner, and was ser­ved without courtesie or assay, wher­at hee marvelled; and demanded of the Esquire, why he did not his du­ty? the Esquire answered, that hee was otherwise commanded by Sir Pierce of Extone, who was lately come from King Henry. The King being somewhat moved at his act and answer, tooke the carving knife [Page 285] in his hand, & struck the Esquire ther­with lightly on the head, saying, the devil take Henry of Lancaster & thee together: with that Sir Pierce entred the Chamber, with eight men in harneys, every one having a bill in his hand: Whereupon King Richard perceiving their drift and his owne danger, put the table from him, and st [...]pping stoutly to the formost man, wrested the bill [...]ut of his hand, wherewith (although unarmed and alone) hee manfully defended him­selfe a good space, and slew foure of his as [...]aylants. Sir Pierce lept to the Chaire where King Richard was wont to sit, whilest the rest chased him about the Chamber. At the last being forced towards the place where Sir Pierce was, hee with a stroake of his Pollax felled him to the ground: and forthwith hee was miserably rid out of his miserable life. It is s [...]id that at the point of his death, he gathered s [...]me spirit, and with a faint and feeble voice, groa­ned forth these words.

[Page 286]My great Grandfather King Ed­ward the second, was in this manner deposed, imprisoned, and murthered; by which meanes my Grandfather King Edward the third obtained possession of the Crowne; and now is the punishment of that injury powred upon his next successor. Well, this is right for me to suffer, but not for you to doe: your King for a time may joy at my death, and enjoy his desire; but let him qualifie his pleasures with expectation of the like justice: for God who measureth all our actions by the malice of our minds, will not suffer this violence unrevenged.

Whether these words proceeded from a distempered desire, or from the judgement of his fore sight [...], they were not altogether idle and vaine. For Sir Pierce expecting great favour and rewards for his un­gracious service, was frustrated of both, and not onely missed that countenance for which hee ho­ped, but lost that which before he [Page 287] had: so odious are vices even where they are profitable.

Hereupon he grew at the first discontented, and afterwards mighti­ly turmoyled and tormented in conscience, and raging against himselfe would often exclayme, that to pleasure one unthankefull person, hee had made both him selfe and his posterity, hatefull and infamous to all the world.

King Henry with great discon­tentment and disquiet held the Kingdome during his life: and so did his sonne King Henry the fifth: in whose time by continuall warres against the French-men, the malice of the humour was otherwise exercised and spent. But his second successour King Henry the sixth was dispos­sessed thereof▪ and together with his young sonne Henry, impri­soned and put to death, either by the commandement▪ or conni­vence of King Edward the fourth.

[Page 288]And hee also escaped not free; for hee dyed not without many and manifest suspicions of poyson: and after his death his two sonnes were disinherited, imprisoned, and but­chered by their cruell Vncle the Duke of Glou [...]ester, who being a Tyrant and Vsurper, was lawfully shine in the field; and so in his per­son (having no issue) the tragedie did end. Which are most rare and excellent examples, both of com­fort to them that are oppressed, and of terrour to violent D [...]alers; that God in his secret judgement doth not alwayes so certainely pro­vide for our safety, as revenge our injuries and harmes: and that all our unjust actions have a day of payment, and many times by way of retaliation, even in the same manner and mea­sure wherein they were commit­ted.

And thus was king Richard brought to his death, by violence and force, as all Writers agree, al­though [Page 289] al agree not upon the manner of the violence. He was a man of per­sonage, rather wel proportioned then tall, of great beauty, and grace, and comelinesse in presence; hee was of a good strength, and no abject spirit; but the one by ease, the other by flattery were much abased. Hee deserved many friends, but found few, because hee sought them more by liberality, then vertuous dealing Hee was marvellous infortunate in all his actions, which may very well be imputed to his negligence and sloath; for he that is not provident can seldome prosper, but by his loosenesse will lose, whatsoever fortune, or other mens labours doe cast upon him. At the last hee was driven to such distresse, that hee accounted it as a benefit, to be dis­burdened of his royall dignity, for which other men will not sticke, to put their goods, and lives, and soules in ha­zard.

[Page 290]Hee lived three and thirty yeares, and raigned two and twenty. His dead body was embalmed, and sea­red, and covered with Lead all save his face, and carried to London, and in all the chiefe places by the way, his face was uncovered and shewen, that by view thereof no doubt should bee made concerning his death. At London hee had a solemne obse­quie kept in the Cathedrall Church of Saint Paul, the King being pre­sent, and all the chiefe men of the Citie.

Then hee was conveyed to Lang­ley Abbey in Buckinghamshire, a­bout twenty miles from London, and there obscurely enterred by the Bishop of Chester, the Abbot of S. Albones, and the Abbot of Wal­tham, without presence of noble­men, without confluence of the common people, and without the charge of a dinner for celebrating the Funerals: but afterwarward at the commandement of King Henry the fifth, his body was taken up, and re­moved [Page 291] to Westminster, and honou­rably entombed amongst his an­cestors, with Queene Anna his wife, in expiation (as it is like) of his Fathers violent and unfaithfull dealing. So hee whose life was al­waies tumultuous and unquiet, could not readily find rest for his bones, even after death. It was not amisse in regard of the Common-wealth that hee was dead; yet they who caused his death had small reason to reckon it among their good deeds.

And thus doe these and the like accidents daily happen to such Prin­ces as will bee absolute in power resolute in will, and dissolute in life.

This yeare Humfrey, the sonne and heyre of the Duke of Glou­cester, dyed of the plague; as hee returned out of Ireland, where King Richard had left him prisoner and shortly after the Dutchesse his Mother with violence of griefe ended her dayes: this yeare also [Page 292] dyed Thomas Mowbray the Exiled Duke of Norfolke, whose death would much have beene lamented, if hee had not furthered so many la­mentable deaths: but he over-lived his honour, and saw himselfe ac­counted a person infamed and of no estimation. Likewise about this time, Iohn Duke of Brittaine de­ceased, who had taken to wife Mary daughter to King Edward the third, and by her had no issue, but by Ioan his second wife, hee left be­hind him three sonnes, Iohn, Ri­chard, and Arthur: this Ioan was afterwards married to King Henry: as hereafter shall appeare. Also this yeare Edmund Duke of Yorke departed this life, his honour not slayned, his fame not touch­ed: he was a man very circum­spect and wary in his carriage, not carelesse of a good fame, nor greedy after a great: of other mens wealth not desirous, liberall of his owne, and of the common, sparing: hee did not by obstinate opposing him­selfe [Page 293] against the current of the time, rashly hasten, either his fame, or his fall; but by moderation attained safely that degree of prayse, and honour, which others aspiring unto by des­perate courses, wanne with ambi­tious death, without any other pro­fit at all. He left behind him two no­ble sons, expresse resemblancers of his integrity: Edward, who succee­ded in his dignity, and before was cal­led Duke of Aumerle, and Richard Earle of Cambridge. Edward, in the change of the state, neither con­stantly kept his fidelity, nor stoutly maintained his treason. Richard tooke to wife the daughter and heyre of Roger Mortimer, whose mother Phillip was sole daughter and heyre to Lionell Duke of Clarence, the third sonne of King Edward the third, by which title and discent, his posterity claimed the Crowne and Kingdome of this Realme from the successors of King Henry, as hereafter more at large shall be de­clared.

[Page 294] Charles King of France lost no time all this while in making prepara­tion to invade England: and to that end had now raysed an Army royall, which was brought downe into Pi­cardie, and in a readinesse to have beene transported. But it is very like that this haste for the deliverance of King Richard did the more hasten his death: upon newes whereof the French-men perceiving their pur­pose for his restitution to bee to no purpose, gave over the enterprise; some being grieved that the occasion was lost of making spoyle of so plen­tifull a countrey, others being well content to be discharged of that hope, together with the hazard whereupon it depended. Shortly after the French King sent a solemne Embassage into England, to treate, or rather in­treate, that Lady Isabel his daugh­ter, who had beene espoused to King Richard, might with her dowrie bee restored to him againe. King Henry most honourably recei­ved these Embassadors, and gave in [Page 295] answer, that he would speedily send his Commissioners to Calice, which should fully commune and conclude with them, both of this and other weighty affayres concerning both the Realmes.

Not long after hee sent Edward Duke of Yorke, and Henry Earle of Northumberland to Calice: Also the French King sent the Duke of Burbone, and certaine others to Bul­leine. These Commissioners did often meet, sometimes at one place, and sometimes at another: the French-men especially required, that Lady Isabell should be restored, shewing that King Charles her Fa­ther had given in charge, that this before all matters, and without this nothing should be concluded. On the other side the Englishmen desi­red that shee might bee married to Henry Prince of Wales, King Hen­ries eldest sonne, a man answera­ble to her in equall degree, both of blood and of yeares: but the French King denyed that hee [Page 296] would any more joyne affinity with the English nation, whose aliance had once so unfortunately succeeded: then they entred into speech of a per­petuall peace, but hereto the Frenchmen would not agree. In the end it was concluded that Lady Isabell should be delivered to King Charles her Father, but without Dower; because the marriage be­tweene King Richard and her, was never consummate: by rea­son whereof shee was not dona­ble by the very treaty of the mar­riage. Also the surcease of armes which foure yeares before had beene made with King Richard, for the terme of thirty yeares, was conti­nued and confirmed for the time then unexpired. Some Authors affirme, that a new truce was taken, but these also are at diffe­rence: for some report that it was during the life of both the Kings; others, that it was but for a short time, which hath the more apparance of truth, by reason of the [Page 297] open hostility which the yeare fol­lowing did breake forth betweene the two Realmes.

Shortly after King Henry sent the Lady Isabel under the conduct of Lord Thomas Piercy Earle of Worce­ster, in Royall estate to Calis: she was accompanied with a great troupe of honourable personages, both men and women; and carried with her all the Iewels and Plate which shee brought into England, with a great surplu­sage of rich gifts bestowed upon her by the King: at Calis shee was re­ceived by the Earle of S. Paul, Lieu­tenant for the French King in Picar­dy, and by him was conducted to King Charles her Father, who after­wards gave her in marriage to Charles Sonne to Le [...]es Duke of Or­leances ▪ and so was either rest, or re­spite of warres procured in France, whilest neerer stirres might bee brought to some stay.

For within the Realme, the fire and fury of the late sedition was scarcely quenched and quiet, but (that [Page 298] the Common-wealth should not cease to bee torne, by multiplying of divisions, one streight succeeding a­nother) the Welshmen, upon advan­tage of the doubtfull and unsetled e­state of King Henry, resolved to break and make a defection; before either the King could ground his authority, or the people frame themselves to a new obedience: and having lear­ned that common causes must bee maintained by concord, they sought by assemblies to establish an associa­tion: and to set up their owne princi­pality againe.

To this purpose they created for their Prince, Owen Glendor an Es­quire of Wales, a factious Person, and apt to set up division and strife: and although hee was of no great state in birth; yet was hee great and stately in stomack: of an aspiring Spirit: and in wit somewhat above the ordinary of that untrained people: bould, craf­ty, active, and as he listed to bend his mind, mischievous or industrious in equall degree, in desires immoderate, [Page 299] and rashly adventurous, in his young yeares he was brought up to the stu­dy of the Common law of the Realme, at Lo [...]don: and when hee came to mans estate, besides a naturall fiercenesse and hatred to the Eng­lish name, he was particularly incen­sed by a private suite, for certaine lands in controversie, betweene the Lord Gray of Ruthen and him; wherein his title was overthrowne; and being a man by nature not of the mildest, by this provocation he was made savadge and rough; determi­ning either to repaire or to revenge his losse, by setting the whole state on fire. Also his expence and liberality had beene too excessive for a great man to endure, which brought him to barenesse, too base for a meane man to beare: and therefore he must of ne­cessity doe and dare somewhat, and more danger there was in soft and quiet dealing, then in hazarding rash­ly. Herewith oportunity was then likewise presented: for trouble some­times are most fit for great attempts, [Page 300] and some likelihood there was, whilest the King and the Lords were hard at variance, that harme might easily bee wrought to them both. Vpon these causes his desire was founded, and upon these troubles his hope. But that his aspiring and am­bitious humour might beare some shew of honest meaning, hee preten­ded to his Countreymen the recove­ry of their free estate, the desire whereof was so naturally sweet, that even wilde birds will rather live hardly at large in the aire, then bee daintily dieted by others in a Cage; and oportunity was at that time fitly offered, or else never to bee expected, to rid them of their thraldome, false­ly and colourably intituled a peace, whilest the one Kings power was waining, and the other not yet fully wexen, and either of them grew weake by wasting the other: neither was their any difference which of them should prevaile, sith the warre touched both alike, insomuch as the overthrow would ruine the one, and [Page 301] the victory the other; So he exhorted them to take courage and armes: and first to kill all the English within their territories, for liberty and Lords could not endure together: then to resume their ancient cu­stomes and lawes, whereby more then armes, Common-wealths are established and enlarged: so should they be a people uncorrupt, without admixion of forraigne manners of bloud; and so should they forget ser­vitude, and either live at liberty or else perhaps, be Lords over other.

Hereupon many flocked unto him, the best for love of liberty, the basest for desire of booty and spoile, inso­much as in short time hee became Commander of competent forces to stand openly in the field. And being desirous to make some proofe of his prowesse, hee sharply set upon his old adversary Reignold Lord Grey of Ru­then, whose possessions hee wasted and spoiled; slew many of his men, and tooke himselfe prisoner; yet gave him faire and friendly entertainment, [Page 302] and promised him releasement, if he would take his Daughter to wife. This he desired, not so much for need of his ability or aid, as supposing that the name and countenance of a Lord, would give reputation to the house that was then [...]ut in rising: but the Lord Grey at the first did not so much refuse as scorne the offer: affirming that hee was no ward, to have his marriage obtruded upon him. Well (said Owen Glendore) although you bee not my ward, yet are you in my ward: and the suing your livery will cost double the marriage money that elsewhere you shall procure. The Lord Grey being not very rich to dis­charge his ransome, and seeing no o­ther meanes of his deliverance, at the last accepted the condition, and tooke the Damosell to wife; notwithstan­ding his deceitfull Father in law, trifled out the time of his enlarge­ment untill hee died.

The Welshmen being confident upon this successe, beganne to breake into the borders of Hereford-shire, and [Page 303] to make spoile and prey of the Coun­trey: against whom Lord Edmund Mortimer Earle of March, who for feare of King Henry had withdrawne himselfe (as hath beene declared) to Wigmore Castle, assembled all the Gentlemen of the Countrey, and meeting with the Welchmen, they joyned together a sharpe and cruell conflict▪ not in forme of a loose skir­mish, but standing still and maintai­ning their place, they endeavoured with maine might to breake and beare downe one another. The cou­rage and resolution of both sides was alike, but the Welshmen were supe­riour both for number and direction: for they were conducted by one knowne Leader, who with his pre­sence every where assisted at need, enflaming his souldiers, some with shame and reproofe, others with praise and encouragement, all with hope and large promises: but the Eng­lish-men had no certaine generall, but many confused Commanders, yea e­very man was a Commander to him­selfe, [Page 304] pressing forward or drawing back, as his owne courage or feare did move him. Insomuch as no doubt they had taken a great blow that day▪ by their ill governed boldnesse, had not Owen Glendor presently upon the breaking up of the field, ceased to pursue the execution, and shewed himselfe more able to get a victory, then skilfull to use it. But even to his side the victory had cost bloud, and many of those which remained, were either wounded or weary: the night was neere also, and they were in their enemies Countrey; by which meanes our men had liberty to retire rather then runne away, no man be­ing hot to follow the chase. They lost of their company about a thou­sand men, who sold their lives at such a price, that when manhood had done the hardest against them, cer­taine mannish, or rather devilish wo­men, whose malice is immortall, exer­cised a vaine revenge upon their dead bodies; in cutting off their privy parts and their noses, whereof the one they [Page 305] stuffed in their mouths, and pressed the other betweene their buttocks; and would not suffer their mangled carcasses to bee committed to the earth, untill they were redeemed with a great summe of money. By which cruell covetousnesse, the fa­ction lost reputation and credite with the moderate sort of their own people; suspecting that it was not liberty but licentiousnesse which was desired: and that subjection to such unhumane minds would bee more insupportable then any bondage.

In this conflict, the Earle of March was taken prisoner and fettered with chaines, and cast into a deepe and vile dungeon. The King was solicited by many Noble men, to use some meanes for his deliverance; but he would not heare on that eare; hee could rather have wished him and his two sisters in Heaven, for then the onely ble­mish to his title had beene out of the way: and no man can tell whether this mischance did not preserve him from a greater mischiefe.

[Page 306] Owen Glendore ▪ by the prosperous successe of his actions, was growne now more hard to be dealt with, and hautely minded, and stood even upon termes of equality with the King▪ whereupon he proceeded further to invade the Marches of Wales on the West side of Severne; where he burnt many Villages and Townes, slew much people, and returned with great prey, and praises of his adhe­rents. Thus he ceased not this yeare to infest the borderers on every side, amongst whom he found so weake resistance, that he seemed to exercise rather a spoile then a warre. For King Henry was then detained with his chiefest forces, in another more dangerous service, which besides these former vexations▪ and hazards, this first yeare of his raigne happened unto him.

For the Scots knowing that changes were times most apt for attempt, and upon advantage of the absence of all the chiefe English borderers, partly by occasion of the Parliament, and [Page 307] partly by reason of the plague which was very grievous that yeare in the North parts of the Realme: they made a road into the Countrey of Northumberland, and there commit­ted great havock and harme. Also on a certaine night, they sodainly set upon the Castle of Werke, the Cap­taine whereof Sir Thomas Gray, was then one of the Knights of the Par­liament: and having slaine the watch partly a sleepe, partly amazed with feare, they brake in and surprised the place: which they held a while, and at the last spoiled and ruinated and then departed. Whilest further harmes were feared, this passed with light regard. But when great perils were past, as if no worse misfortune could have befallen, then was it much sor­rowed and lamented. And in re­venge thereof, the Englishmen inva­ded and spoiled certaine Ilands of Orkney: and so the losse was in some sort repaired: yet (as in the reprisals of warre it commonly falleth out) neither against those particular per­sons [Page 308] which committed the harme, nor for those which suffered it: but one for another were both recom­penced and revenged. Againe, the Scots set forth a fleet, under the con­duct of Sir Robert Logon, with dire­ction to attempt as occasion should bee offered: his first purpose was a­gainst our Fishermen; but before he came to any action, hee was incoun­tred by certaine English ships, and the greatest part of his fleet taken. Thus peace still continuing between both the Realmes, a kind of theevish hostility was dayly practised, which afterwards brake out into open warre upon this occasion.

George of Dunbarre Earle of the Marches of Scotland, had betrothed Elizabeth his Daughter to David, the Sonne and Heire apparent of Robert King of Scots, and in regard of that marriage to be shortly celebrated and finished, hee delivered into the Kings hands a great summe of money for his Daughters dowry. But Archibald Earle Dowglasse disdaining that the [Page 309] Earle of Marches bloud should bee preferred before his, so wrought with King Robert, that Prince David his Son refused the Earle of Marches Daughter, and tooke to wife Mariell Daughter to the Earle Dowglasse: Earle George not used to offers of dis­grace, could hardly enforce his pa­tience to endure this scorne: and first hee demanded restitution of his mo­ney, not so much for care to obtaine, as for desire to pick an occasion of breaking his allegeance. The King would make to him neither payment nor promise, but trifled him off with many delusory and vaine delayes: Whereupon hee fled with all his family into England, to Henry Earle of Northumberland, intending with open disloyalty both to revenge his indignity, and recover his losse. The Englishmen with open armes enter­tained the oportunity; with whose helpe and assistance, the Earle made divers incursions into Scotland, where hee burnt many Townes, and slew much people, and dayly purcha­sed [Page 310] with his sword, great aboun­dance of booty and spoile.

Hereupon King Robert deprived the Earle of his honour, s [...]ized all his goods and possessions, and wrote unto King Henry, as hee would have the truce betweene them any lon­ger to continue; either to deliver un­to him, the Earle of March and other Traytours to his person and state, or else to banish them the Realme of England. King Henry perceiving such jarres to jogger betweene the two Realmes, that the peace was already as it were out of joynt, de­termined not to lose the benefit of the discontented Subjects of his ene­my: whereupon hee returned an an­swer to the Herauld of Scotland, that hee was neither weary of Peace, nor fearefull of Warres, and ready as occasion should change, either to hold the one, or hazard the other: but the word of a Prince was of great weight; and therefore sith hee had granted a safe conduct to the [...]arle of March and his com­pany, [Page 311] it were an impeachment to his honour, without just cause to vio­late the same. Vpon this answer the King of Scots did presently pro­claime open warre against the King of England, with bloud, fire, and sword.

King Henry thought it policy, rather to beginne the warre in his enemies Countrey, then to expect it in their owne, because the Land which is the seat of the warre, doth commonly furnish both sides with necessary supply; the friend by con­tribution, and the enemy by spoile▪ Therefore sending certaine Troopes of horsemen before him, both to espy and to induce an uncertaine ter­rour upon the enemy, hee entred into Scotland with a puissant army; wherewith hee burnt many Villages and Townes, cast downe diverse Ca­stles, and ruined a great part of the Townes of Edenborough ▪ and Lith, sparing nothing but Churches & re­ligious houses: so that in all places as hee passed, the spectacle was ougly [Page 312] and grisly which he left behind him; bodies torne in pieces, mangled and putrified limmes, the aire infected with stinck, the ground imbrued with corruption and bloud, the Countrey wasted, the Grasse and Corne troden downe and spoiled; insomuch as a man would have said that warre is an exercise not of man­hood, but of inhumanity. They that fled before the army, filled all places with feare and terrour, extolling a­bove truth the English forces, to di­minish thereby their shame in run­ning from shame.

In the end of September, the King besieged the Castle of Maydens in Edenborough; wherein were David Duke of Rothsay Prince of the Realme, and Archibald Earle Dow­glasse; the inconstancy of the one, and ambition of the other, were prin­cipall causes of all this warre.

During this siege, Robert Duke of Albony, who was appointed Gover­nour of the Realme, because the King was sick and unable to rule, sent an [Page 313] Herauld unto Henry; assuring him upon his honour that if hee would abide but six dayes at the most, hee would give him battaile; and either remove the siege, or loo [...]e his life.

The King was well pleased with these tidings, and rewarded the Herauld with a gowne of silke, and a chaine of gould, and promised him in the word of a Prince, to abide there and expect the Governour, during the time by him prefixed.

The six dayes passed almost six times over, and no more newes was heard of the Governour, either by presence, or by messenger. Winter came on, and victuaile failed, the Countrey was cold and fruitlesse, and it rained every day in great a­boundance; so that partly by hunger, partly by distemperature of the wea­ther, the Souldiers be [...]anne to dye of the Flixe; it is very like that these accidents stayed the Governour from performing his promise, for policy was against it, to hazard his men in the field, when Winter and [Page 314] want, two forceable foes had given the charge upon his enemies: certaine it is, that they moved the King to remove his siege, and to depart out of Scotland, without any battaile or skirmish offered.

Both the Wardens of the Marches were all this time in Scotland with the King: upon which advantage the Scots did breake into Northum­berland, and burnt certaine Townes in Bamborough Shire. The English-men were speedily up in armes; but the Scots more speedily made their returne, or else no doubt they had beene mette with, and encounte­red.

Againe when King Henry had discharged his army, the Scots being desirous not so much of life as of revenge, made a sudaine road into England, under the conduct of Sir Thomas Halibarton of Dirle­ton, and Sir Patrick Hebburne, of Hales: but all the harme which they wrought did rather waken then weaken the English-men: [Page 315] and they themselves were some­what encouraged, but nothing enriched, by that which they got.

Not long after, Sir Patrick Heb­burne, being lifted up in desire and hope, resolved to undertake a grea­ter enterprize: the people, which are easily led by prosperous suc­cesse, in great Companies resorted to him; but hee was loath to have more fellowes in the spoile, then hee thought should need in the dan­ger: therefore with a competent army of the men of Loughdeane, hee invaded Northumberland, where hee made great spoile, and loaded his Souldiers with prisoners and prey. There was no question made what perill might bee in the re­turne: Therefore they marched loosely and licentiously as in a place of great security, not keeping them­selves to their ensignes and order: but the Earle of Northumberlands Vice-warden, and other Gentle­men of the borders in good array, set [Page 316] upon them at a Towne in Northum­berland called Nesbit. The Scots rallied as well as the suddainnesse did serve, and valiantly received the charge; so that the battaile was sharp and cruell, and continued a good time, with great mortality. In the end, the enemies rankes grew thinne, as being rather confusedly shuffled together, then orderly and firmely compacted: and when the Vice-warden felt them weake in the shock, and yeelding under his hand, with a company which hee purpose­ly retained about him for suddaine dispatches and chances of warre, hee fiercely charged and disordered them. Sir Patrick Hebburne being cleane destitute both of Counsaile and courage ranne up and downe from one place to another, comman­ding many things, and presently for­bidding them againe; and the lesse of force his directions were, the oftner did hee change them: anon (as it happeneth in lost and desperate cases) every man became a Com­mander, [Page 317] and none a putter in exe­cution: so the rankes loosed and brake, and could not bee reunited, the victour hotly pursuing the ad­vantage. Then might you have seene a grievous spectacle, pursuing, kil­ling, wounding, and taking, and kil­ling those that were taken, when better were offered: every where weapons, and dead bodies, and man­gled limmes lay scattered: and some­times in those that were slaine, ap­peared at their death both anger and valour.

Sir Patrick Hebburne thought of nothing lesse then either fleeing or yeelding, but thrusting among the thickest of his enemies, honou­rably ended his life. Many other of his lineage, and the flower of all Loughdeane were likewise slaine.

There were also taken, Sir Iohn and William Cockburne, Sir Wil­ [...]iam Basse, Iohn and Thomas Hab­ [...]incton Esquires, and a great mul­titude of common souldiers.

[Page 318]On the English side, no great number was slaine; and those of no great service and degree. And with these troubles the life and raigne of King Henry the fourth en­ded.