THE LIVES OF THE III. NORMANS, KINGS OF ENGLAND: WILLIAM the first. WILLIAM the second. HENRY the first. Written by I. H. MART. Improbè facit qui in alieno libro ingeniosus est. ¶ IMPRINTED AT LONDON BY R. B. ANNO 1613. TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE CHARLES' Prince of Wales. MOst Illustrious PRINCE: Our late, too late borne, or too soon dying Prince, HENRY of famous memory, your deceased brother, sent for me, a few months before his death. And at my second coming to his presence, among some other speeches, he complained much of our Histories of England; and that the English Nation, which is inferior to none in Honourable actions, should be surpassed by all, in leaving the memory of them to posterity. For this cause he blamed the negligence of former ages: as if they were ignorant of their own deservings, as if they esteemed themselves unworthy of their worth. I answered, that I conceived these causes hereof; One, that men of sufficiency were otherwise employed; either in public affairs, or in wrestling with the world, for maintenance or increase of their private estates. Another is, for that men might safely write of others in manner of atale, but in manner of a History▪ safely they could not: because, albeit they should write of men long since dead, and whose posterity is clean worn out; yet some alive, finding themselves foul in those vices, which they see observed, reproved, condemned in others; their guiltiness maketh them apt to conceive, that whatsoever the words are, the finger pointeth only at them. The last is, for that the Argument of our English history hath been so foiled heretofore by some unworthy writers, that men of quality may esteem themselves discredited by dealing in it. And is not this (said he) an error in us, to permit every man to be a writer of History? Is it not an error to be so curious in other matters, and so careless in this? We make choice of the most skilful workmen to draw or carve the portraiture of our faces, and shall every artless Pencil delineate the disposition of our minds? Our apparel must be wrought by the best Artificers, and no soil must be suffered to fall upon it: and shall our actions, shall our conditions be described by every bungling hand? Shall every filthy finger defile our reputation? Shall our Honour be basely buried in the dross of rude and absurd writings? We are careful to provide costly sepulchres, to preserve our dead lives, to preserve some memory what we have been: but there is no monument, either so durable, or so largely extending, or so lively and fair, as that which is framed by a fortunate pen; the memory of the greatest Monuments had long since perished, had it not been preserved by this means. To this I added; that I did always conceive, that we should make our reckoning of three sorts of life: the short life of nature, the long life of fame, and the eternal life of glory. The life of glory is so far esteemed before the other two, as grace is predominant in us: the life of fame before our natural life is so far esteemed, as a generous spirit surmounteth sensuality; as human nature overruleth brutish disposition. So far as the noble nature of man hath dominion in our minds, so far do we contemn, either the incommodities, or dangers, or life of our body, in regard of our reputation and fame. Now seeing this life of fame is both preserved and enlarged chiefly by history; there is no man (I suppose) that will either resist, or not assist, the commendable or at least tolerable writing thereof, but such as are conscious to themselves, either that no good, or that nothing but ill, can be reported of them. In whom notwithstanding it is an error to think, that any power of the present time, can either extinguish or obscure the memory of times succeeding. Posterity will give to every man his due: Some ages hereafter will afford those, who will report unpartially of all. Then he questioned, whether I had wrote any part of our English History, other than that which had been published; which at that time he had in his hands▪ I answered, that I had wrote of certain of our English Kings, by way of a brief description of their lives: but for history, I did principally bend, and bind myself to the times wherein I should live; in which my own observations might somewhat direct me: but as well in the one as in the other I had at that time perfected nothing. To this he said; that in regard of the honour of the time, he liked well of the last; but for his own instruction, he more desired the first: that he desired nothing more than to know the actions of his Ancestors; because he did so far esteem his descent from them, as he approached near them in honourable endeavours. Hereupon, beautifying his face with a sober smile, he desired me, that against his return from the progress then at hand, I would perfect somewhat of both sorts for him, which he promised amply to requite; and was well known to be one, who esteemed his word above ordinary respects. This stirred in me, not only a will, but power to perform▪ so as engaging my duty far above the measure either of my leisure or of my strength, I finished the lives of these three Kings of Norman race, and certain years of Queen ELIZABETH'S Reign. At his return from the Progress to his house at S. james, these pieces were delivered unto him; which he did not only courteously, but joyfully accept. And because this seemed a perfect work, he expressed a desire that it should be published. Not long after he died; and with him died both my endeavours and my hopes. His death, alas! hath bound the lives of many unto death, face to face; being no ways able, either by forgetfulness to cover their grief, or to diminish it with consideration. For in truth he was a Prince of a most Heroical heart: Free from many vices which sometimes accompany high estates, full of most amiable and admirable virtues: of whose perfections the world was not worthy. His eyes were full of pleasant modesty; his countenance manly beautiful; in body both strongly and delicately made; in behaviour sweet●…ly sober, which gave grace to whatsoever he did. He was of a discerning wit; and for the faculty of his mind, of great capacity and power, accompanied with equal expedition of will: much foreseeing in his actions, and for passions a commander of himself; and of good strength to resist the power of prosperity. In counsel he was ripe and measured, in resolution constant, his word ever led by his thought, and followed by his deed. And albeit he was but young and his nature forward and free, yet his wisdom reduced both to a true temper of moderation; his desires being never above his reason, nor his hopes inferior to his desires. In a word, he was the most fair fruit of his progenitors, an excellent ornament of the present age, a true mirror to posterity: being so equally both settled to valour, and disposed to goodness and justice, as he expressed not only tokens, but proofs, both of a courage, and of a gravity and industry right worthy of his estate. Glorious Prince, my love and duty hath carried me further, then happily is fit for the present purpose: and yet this is but an earnest only of my earnest affection and zeal to thy Honour. I shall hereafter have a more proper place to display at large, the goodliness of thy shape, the goodness of thy nature, the greatness of thy mind: all thy perfections, whereby our affections were much inflamed. And evillworthy may he be of any happy hopes, who will not add one blast of his breath, to make up the glorious gale of thy fame. In the mean time I have here accomplished his desire in publishing this work: More to testify to the world the height of his heart, then for any pleasure I have to set forth any thing, to the view of these both captious and unthankful times; wherein men will be, not readers only, but interpreters, but wresters, but corrupters and depravers of that which they read; wherein men think the reproof of others, to be the greatest parcel of their own praise. But how should I expect any better usage? The Commentaries of Caesar, never disliked before, are esteemed by Lypsius, a dry sapless piece of writing. The most famous Tacitus is termed by Alceate, a 〈◊〉 a thicket of thorns; by Budaeus, b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a most lewd Writer; by Tertullian, c 〈◊〉▪ simu●…. an exceedin●… liar; by Orosius, d Adulat●…. a flatterer; than which assuredly he is ●…thing less. I will not expect any better usage, I will not desire it: I will hereafter esteem nothing of any worth, which hath not many to detract from it. Whatsoever this is, I have presumed to present it to your Highness, for these causes following: First, for that it received this being from him, who was most dearly esteemed by you; who may be justly proposed, as an example of virtue, as a guide to glory and fame. Secondly, for that the persons of whom it treateth, are those most worthy Ancestors of yours, who laid the foundation of this English Empire; who were eminent among all the Princes of their times, and happily for many ages after, as well in actions of Peace as of War. Lastly, for that I esteem Histories the fittest subject for your Highness reading: For by diligent perusing the acts of great men, by considering all the circumstances of them, by comparing Counsa●…les and means with events; a man may seem to have lived in all ages, to have been present at all enterprises; to be more strongly confirmed in judgement, to have attained a greater experience, than the longest life can possibly afford. But because many errors do usually arise, by ignorance of the State wherein we live; because it is dangerous to frame rules of Policy out of countries differing from us, both in nature, and custom of life, and form of government; no Histories are so profitable as our own. In these your Highness may see, the noble disposition and delights of your Ancestors; what were their sweet walks, what their pleasant Chases: how far they preferred glory, before either pleasure or safety; how by the brave behaviour of their sword, they hewed honour out of the sides of their enemies. In these you may see, the largeness, commodities, and strength of this Country; the nature of the people, their wealth, pleasure, exercise and trade of life, and what else is worthy of observation. Generally, by these you may so furnish yourself, as not easily to be abused either by weak or deceitful advise. The Most High preserve and prosper your Highness: that as you succeed many excellent Ancestors in blood, so you may exceed them all in Honourable achievements. Your highness most devoted, I. HAYWARD. THE LIFE OF KING WILLIAM THE FIRST, Surnamed Conqueror. ROBERT Duke of Normandy the sixth in descent from Rollo, riding through Falais a town in Normandy, espied certain young persons dancing near the way. And as he stayed to view a while the manner of their disport, he fixed his eye especially upon a certain damosel named Arlotte; of mean birth, a Skinner's daughter, who there danced among the rest. The frame and comely carriage of her body, the natural beauty and graces of her countenance, the simplicity of her rural both behaviour and attire pleased him so well, that the same night he procured her to be brought to his lodging; where he begat of her a son, who afterward was named William. I will not defile my writing with memory of some lascivious behaviour which she is reported to have used, at such time as the Duke approached to embrace her. And doubtful it is, whether upon some special note of immodesty in herself, or whether upon hate towards her son, the English afterwards adding an aspiration to her name (according to the natural manner of their pronouncing) termed every unchaste woman Harlot. It is remembered by some, rather servile then fond in observations, who will either find or frame predictions for every great action or event; that his mother before the time of her delivery had a dream, that her bowels were extended over Normandy and England. Also, that at the time of his birth, he fell from his mother's body to the ground; and there filled both his hands with rushes, which had been cast thick upon the floor, and strained them with a very straight gripe. The wives laughed at large, and soon grew prodigal of idle talk. But the Midwife somewhat more soberly said; That he should not only hold well his own, but grasp somewhat from other men. When he was about 9 years of age, his father went upon devotion to Jerusalem; and in his return died at the City of Nice. So William at that age succeeded his father; having then very generous and aspiring spirits, both to resist abroad, and to rule at home. He was committed to the government of two of his uncles; and the French King was entreated by his father to take upon him the protection, both of his person and State. But his uncles pretended title to his dignity, by reason of his unlawful birth; the King of France also desired much and had often attempted to reduce Normandy to his absolute subjection, as it was before the invasion of the Normans. So as it may seem he was committed to these Tutors, as a Lamb should be committed to the tutelage of wolves. The only means of his preservation consisted in a factious Nobility, divided into so many parts, as there were parties: Some contending for possession of the young Duke's person; others, of his authority and power; all of them incompatible to endure either equals, or else superiors: All of them united against a common enemy; all divided among themselves. Here it may be demanded how he being unlawfully borne, could succeed his father in the duchy of Normandy; his father leaving two brothers borne in lawful marriage, and much other legitimate kindred behind him. Will. Malmesburie and some others have reported, Lib. 3. in princ. Ingulph. lib. 6. cap. 19 that albeit he was borne out of marriage, yet Duke Robert his father did afterwards entertain his mother for lawful wife: which by the Law of that Country, agreeable in that point to the Civil and Canon Laws, sufficed to make the issue inheritable, although borne before. And further, it was a general custom at that time in France, that bastards did succeed, even in dignities of highest condition, no otherwise then children lawfully begotten. Thierrie bastard of Clovis, had for his partage with the lawful children of the same Clovis, the Kingdom of Austrasie, now called Lorraine. Sigisbert bastard of King Dagobert the first, had his part in the Kingdom of France, with Clovis the 12. lawful son to Dagobert. Joys and Carloman bastards of King Joys le Begue, succeeded after the death of their father. So likewise in England, Alfride bastard son of Oswine, succeeded his brother Egfride. So Adelstane the bastard son of Edward the elder, succeeded his father, before Edmund and Eldred his younger brother; notwithstanding they were lawfully begotten. So Edmund, surnamed the Martyr, Bastard son to King Edgar, succeeded him in the state, before Ethelbred his lawful issue. Afterward, Harold surnamed harefoot, bastard to Canutus, succeeded him in the kingdom, before Hardicanutus, his lawful son. The like custom hath been observed in Spain, in Portugal, and in divers other countries. And it is probable that this use was grounded upon often experience, that bastards (as begotten in the highest heat and strength of affection) have many times been men of excellent proof, both in courage and in understanding. This was verified 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Eurip●… A●…drom. in Hercules, Alexander the Great, Romulus, Timotheus, Brutus, Themistocles, Arthur: in Homer, Demosthenes, Bion, Bartholus, Gratian, Peter Lombard, Peter Comestor, Io. Andreas, and divers of most flourishing name: among whom our Conqueror may worthily be ranged. And yet in the third race of the Kings of France a law was made, that bastards should not inherit the Crown of the Realm. This custom was likewise banished out of England, and other countries of Europe. Notwithstanding in France, other bastards of great houses were still avowed. The exercises of this Duke from his very youth were ingenuous, manly, decent, & such as tended to activity and valour: He was of a working mind and vehement spirit, rather ambitious then only desirous of glory: of a piercing wit, blind in no man's cause, and well sighted in his own: of a lively and present courage; neither out of ignorance, or rash estimation of dangers, but out of a true judgement both of himself and of them. In peace he was politic: In war valiant and very skilful, both to espy, and to apprehend, and to follow his advantages: this valour and skill in military affairs, was always seconded with good success. He was continually accustomed both to the weight and use of armour, from his very childhood. Oftentimes he looked death in the face with a brave contempt. He was never free from actions of arms; first upon necessity to defend himself, afterwards upon ambition to offend and disturb the possessions of others. In his first age he was much infested with rebels in Normandy; who often conspired both against his life, and against his dignity and State; traducing him, as a bastard, as a boy, as borne of a base ignoble woman, as altogether unworthy to be their Prince. Of these, some he appeased and reconciled unto him: others he prevented, and dispersed their power before it was collected: others he encountered in open field, before he had any hair upon his face; where he defeated their forces in full battle, than took their strong holds, and lastly chased them out of his dominion. And first Roger Tresuye, having gained exceeding great both favour and reputation by his services against the Saracens in Spain, made claim to the duchy of Normandy; as one lawfully descended from Rollo their first Duke. And albeit many others were before him in title, yet (said he) if they will sit still; if they, either through sloth, which is ill, or through fear, which is worse, will abandon the adventure, he alone would free the Normans from their infamous subjection. He was followed by many, partly upon opinion of his right, but chiefly of his valour. But when he brought his cause to the arbitrement of Arms, he was overthrown in a strong battle, wherein his claim and his life determined together. After this, William Earl of Arques, son to Richard the second, and uncle to Duke William, upon the same pretence declared himself against his nephew. And albeit the Normans were heavy to stir in his favour, yet he so wrought with the French King, by assuring him great matters in Normandy, that with a mighty army of his own people, he went in person, to place him in possession of that duchy. The way which the King took, led him to a large valley, sandy and full of short bushes and shrubs; troublesome for horsemen either to fight or to march. On either side were rising hills, very thick set with wood. Here the Army entered with small advisement, either for clearing the passage, or for the safety of their carriages. The Vanguard consisted chiefly of battleaxes and pikes. In the right wing were many Almans among the French. In the left were many of Anjou and Poictou. After these followed the baggage, with an infinite number of scullions, carters and other base drudges attending upon it. Next came the French King with the main battle, consisting for the most part of valiant and worthy Gentlemen, bravely mounted. The lances and men at Arms closed the Rearward. When they were well entered this valley, the Normans did lively charge upon them in head; they delivered also their deadly shot from the hills on both sides, as thick as hail. Notwithstanding the Vanguard, casting themselves into a pointed battle in form of a wedge, with plain force of hand made themselves way; and marching in firm and close order through the thickest of their enemies, gained (albeit not without great loss) the top of a hill, and there presently encamped themselves. The like fortune happily might the residue have had, if they had followed with the like order and courage. But failing herein, the right wing was hewed in pieces: the left wing was broken and beaten upon the carriages; where overbearing and treading down one an other, they received almost as much hurt from themselves, as they did from their enemies. The main battle and Rearward advancing forward to rescue the carriage, were first miserably overwhelmed with a storm of arrows from the hill on both sides: and the gallant horses once galled with that shot, would no more obey or endure their riders; but flinging out, either overthrew or disordered all in their way. And the more to increase the misery of that day, the dust and light sand which was raised, partly by the feet of horses and men, and partly by violence of the wind, which then blew full in the faces of the French, involved them all as in a thick and dark cloud; which deprived them of all foresight and direction in governing their affairs. The valiant was nothing discerned from the coward, no difference could be set between contrivance and chance: All laboured in one common calamity, and every one increased the fear of his fellow. The Normans having well spent their shot, and perceiving the French in this sort both disordered and dismayed, came down from the hills where they hovered before; and falling to the close stroke of battaile-axe and sword, most cruelly raged in the blood of their enemies. By whom if any spark of valour was shown, being at so great disadvantage, it was to no purpose, it was altogether lost; it was so far from relieving others, that it was not sufficient to defend themselves. And doubtless no thing so much favoured the state of the French that day, as that the number of the Normans sufficed not to enclose them behind. For than they had been entrapped as Dear in a toil; than not one of them could have escaped. But the entrance of the valley remaining open, many f●…ed back to the plain ground; tumbling together in such headlong haste, that if the Normans had sharply put upon them the chase, it is certain that they had been extremely defeated. But the Duke gave over the execution upon good advise. For knowing himself not to be of force utterly to vanquish the French, he assayed rather by fair forbearance to purchase their friendship. Here the French king assembled his broken companies, and encamped them for that night so well as he could. The joy of their present escape expelled for the time all other respects. But after a little breathing, their remembrance began to run upon the loss of their carriages; whereby they had lost all means to refresh themselves. Of their Vanguard they made a forlorn reckoning, and the like did the Vanguard of them. Many were wounded, all wearied; and the Normans gave notice by sounding out their instruments of war, that they were at hand on every side. The rudest of the Soldiers did boldly upbraid this infortunity to the King; one asked him where his Vanguard was, where were his wings, where were the residue of his battle, and Rearward. Others called for the carriages, to preserve those in life who had not been slain. Others demanded if he had any more mousetraps to lead them into. But most sat heavy and pensive, scarce accounting themselves among the living. The King swallowed down all with a sad silence, sometimes he dissembled as though he had not heard; sometimes he would fairly answer; Good words, good soldiers; have patience a while, and all will be well: which was indeed a truer word than he thought it possible to be when he spoke it. In this extremity the King assembled the chief of his commanders, to advise with them what was best to be done. It was generally concluded, that in staying their case was desperate; and dangerous it was to stir. But here lay the question; whether it was least dangerous to remove together, or every man to shift for himself. Whilst this point was in debating, whilst they expected every minute to be aslailed, whilst no man saw any thing but death and despair; behold, a messenger came from the Duke, not to offer but to desire peace; and to crave protection of the French king, according to the trust which Robert the Duke's father reposed in him. There needed not many words to persuade. Peace was signed, protection assured, in a more ample manner than it was required. Then the messenger with many good words appeased the King's heaviness, telling him, that his Vanguard was safe, his carriages not touched, and that he should be furnished with horses both for burden and draft, in stead of those that had been slain. These words, as a sweet enchantment, ravished the French King with sudden joy. But when they came to gather up their baggage, a spectacle both lamentable and loathsome was presented unto them. The valley covered, and in some places heaped with dead bodies of men and horses: many not once touched with any weapon, lay trodden to death, or else stifled with dust and sand: many grievously wounded, retained some remainder of life, which they expressed with cries and groans: many not mortally hurt, were so overlaid with the slain, that they were unable to free themselves: towards whom it is memorable, what manly both pity and help the Normans did afford. And so the French King more by courtesy of his enemies, then either by courage or discretion of his own, returned in reasonable state to Paris. Upon these events of open hostility, Guy Earl of Burgogne, who had taken to wife Alix, daughter to Duke Richard the second, and Aunt to Duke William, conspired with Nicellus precedent of Constantine, Ranulph viscount of Bayon, Baimond, and divers others, suddenly to surprise the Duke, and slay him in the night. A certain fool, (nothing regarded for his want of wit) observing their preparations, secretly got away, and in the dead of the night came to Valogne, where the Duke then lay; no less slenderly guarded with men, than the place itself was sleight for defence. Here he continued rapping at the gate, and crying out, until it was opened, and he brought to the presence of the Duke. To whom he declared the conspiracy, with circumstances of such moment, that the Duke forthwith took his horse, and posted alone towards Falais, an especial place for strength of defence. Presently after his departure the conspirators came to Valogne, they beset the house, they enter by force, they search every corner for the Duke: And finding that the game was start, and on foot, in hot haste they pursued the chase. About break of day the Duke's horse tired, and he was ignorant of his right way. He was then at a little village called Rye, where the chief Gentleman of the place was standing at his door ready to go abroad. Of him the Duke inquired the next way to Falais. The Gentleman knew the Duke, and with all duty and respect desired to know the cause of his both solitary and untimely riding. The Duke would willingly have passed unknown; but perceiving himself to be discovered, declared to him the whole adventure. Hereupon the Gentleman furnished him with a fresh horse, and sent with him two of his sons to conduct him the direct way to Falais. No sooner were they out of sight, but the conspirators came, and inquired of the same Gen●…leman (who still remained at his door) whether he saw not the Duke that morning: as if, forsooth, they were come to attend him. The Gentleman answered, that he was gone a little before, and therewith offered them his company to overtake him. But he lead them about another way, until the Duke was safely alighted at Falais. And thus the more we consider these and the like passages of affairs, the less we shall admire either the wisdom, or industry, or any other sufficiency of man. In actions of weight it is good to employ our best endeavours; but when all is done, he danceth well to whom Fortune doth pipe. When the conspirators understood that their principal purpose was disappointed, they made themselves so powerful in the field, that the Duke was enforced to crave aid of the King of France; who not long before was his greatest enemy. The King preferring to his remembrance the late honourable dealing of the Duke, came in person unto him; by whose countenance and aid the Duke overthrew his enemies in a full battle, in the vale of Dunes: albeit not without great difficulty, and bold adventure of his own person. Guy de Burgogne escaped by flight, and defended himself in certain castles which he had fortified in Normandy for his retreat; but in the end he rendered both himself and them to the Duke's discretion. The Duke not only pardoned him, but honoured him with a liberal pension; which he did afterward both with valiant and loyal service requite. Not long after, the French King had wars against jeoffrey Martell, and Duke William went with a fair company of Soldiers to his aid. In this service he so well acquitted himself, both in judgement and in hand, that the French King was chiefly directed by him; only blaming him for too careless casting himself into the mouth of dangers; imputing that to ostentation, which was but the heat of his courage and age. Oftentimes he would range from the main battle with very few in his company; either to make discoveries, or to encounter such enemies as could not be found with greater troops. Once he withdrew himself only with four, and was met with by fifteen of the enemies. The most forward of them he struck from his horse, and broke his thigh with the fall. The residue he chased four miles; and most of them being hurt, took seven prisoners. Hereupon jeoffrey Martell then said of him; that he was at that time the best soldier, and was like to prove the best commander in the world. And as he was both favourable and faithful towards them who fairly yielded, so against such as either obstinately or scornfully carried themselves, he was extremely severe, or rather cruel. When he besieged Alencon, which the Duke of Anjou had taken from him, the defendants would often cry from the walls, Lapel Lapel; reproaching him thereby with the birth of his mother. This base insolency, as it inflamed both his desire and courage to achieve the enterprise, so did it his fury, to deal sharply with them when they were subdued; by cutting off their hands and feet, and by other severities which were not usual. Besides these, some others of his own blood provoked Engelrame Earl of Ponthieu to move against him in arms: but the Duke received him with so resolute valour, that the Earl was slain in the field, and they well chastised who drew him to the enterprise. The Britain's did often feel the force of his victorious arms. He had many conflicts with jeoffrey Martell Earl of Anjou, confederate with the Princes of Britain, Aquitaine, and Tours; a man equal unto him both in power and in skill to command, but in fortune and in force of arm much inferior. Many excellent achievements were performed between them; insomuch as their hostility seemed only to be an emulation in honour. Once the Duke fell into an ambushment addressed for him by the Earl of Anjou; wherewith he was so suddenly surprised, that he was almost in the midst of the danger before he thought any danger near him. An exceeding great both terror and confusion seized upon his soldiers; because the more sudden and uncertain a peril is, the greater is it always esteemed. Many of his bravest men were slain; the residue so disordered, or at least shaken, as they began to think more of their particular escape, then of the common either safety or glory. When they were thus upon the point to disband, the Duke rather with rage then courage cried unto them, If you love me not Soldiers, yet for shame follow me; for shame stand by me; for shame let not any of your friends hear the report, that you ran from me and left me fight. With that he threw himself into the thickest throng of his enemies, and denounced those either traitors or cowards who would not follow. This example breathed such brave life into his Soldiers, that they rallied their loose ranks, and in close order seconded him with a resolute charge: encouraging one another, that it was shameful indeed not to fight for him, who so manfully did fight with them. The Duke brandishing his sword like a thunderbolt, dung down his enemies on every side; made at Earl Martell in the midst of his battalion, struck him down, clave his helmet, and cut away one of his ears. This so diverted the Aniovans to the rescue of their Earl, that they let the other part of the victory go. The Earl they recovered again to horse, and so left the Duke master of the field. Verily, it is almost impossible, that a commander of such courage should have, either faint or false hearted Soldiers. Now it happened not long before, that Fulc Earl of Anjou having drawn Herbert Earl of Maine under fair pretences to Xantonge, cast him in prison, from whence he could not be released until he had yielded to certain conditions, both dishonourable and disadvantageable unto him. Hugh succeeded Herbert; from whom jeoffrey Martell Earl of Anjou took the city of Maine, and made himself lord of all the country. Hugh having lost his dominion, left both his title and his quarrel to his son Herbert: who having no issue, appointed Duke William to be his heir. Hereupon the Duke invaded Maine, and in short time subdued the whole country, and built two fortifications for assurance thereof; having first sent word to the Earl of Anjou, upon what day the work should begin. The Earl used all diligence and means to impeach the buildings; but he not only failed of that purpose, but further lost the county of Medune. Again, Henry King of France did many other times with great preparation invade his Country; sometimes with purpose to win upon him, and sometimes to keep him from winning upon others. Upon a time the King led his troops over the ford of Dine; and when half his army had passed, the other half by reason of the rising of the Sea, was compelled to stay. The Duke apprehending the advantage, came upon them with a furious charge, being now divided from the chief of the Army; and either slew them or took them prisoners, in the plain view of their King. After this they concluded a peace, whereof the conditions were, That the Duke should release such prisoners as he had taken; and that he should retain whatsoever he had won, or afterwards should win from the Earl of Anjou. And yet the King did again enterprise upon him, with greater forces then at any time before: But the Duke entertained his Armies with so good order and valour, that the King gained nothing but loss and dishonour: and the greater his desire was of victory and revenge, the more foul did his foils and failings appear; which so broke both his courage and heart, that with grief thereof (as it was conceived) he ended his life. And thus during all the time that he was only Duke of Normandy, he was never free from action of arms: in all his actions of arms he was carried with a most rare and perpetual felicity. As he grew in years, so did he in thickness and fatness of body: but so, as it made him neither unseemly, nor unserviceable for the wars; and never much exceeding the measure of a comely corpulency. He was most decent, and there with terrible in arms. He was stately and majestical in his gesture; of a good stature, but in strength admirable: in so much as no man was able to draw his bow, which he would bend sitting upon his horse, stretching out the string with his foot. His countenance was warlike and manly as his friends might term it; but as his enemies said, truculent and fierce. He would often swear By God's resurrection and his brightness: which he commonly pronounced with so furious a face, that he struck a terror into those that were present. His head was bald; his beard always shaven; which fashion being first taken up by him, was then followed by all the Normans. He was of a firm and strong constitution for his health; so as he never was attached with sickness, but that which was the summons of his death: and in his age seemed little to feel the heavy weight and burden of years. In his first age he was of a mild and gentle disposition; courteous, bountiful, familiar in conversation, a professed enemy to all vices. But as in Fortune, as in years, so changed he in his behaviour; partly by his continual following the wars (whereby he was much fleshed in blood) and partly by the inconstant nature of the people over whom he ruled: who by often rebellions did not only exasperate him to some severity, but even constrain him to hold them in with a more stiff arm. So he did wring from his subjects very much substance, very much blood; not for that he was by nature either covetous or cruel, but for that his affairs could not otherwise be managed. His great affairs could not be managed without great expense, which drew a necessity of charge upon the people: neither could the often rebellions of his Subjects be repressed or restrained by any mild and moderate means. And generally as in all States and governments, severe discipline hath always been a true faithful mother of virtue and valour; so in particular of his Normans he learned by experience, and oftentimes declared this judgement: That if they were held in bridle, they were most valiant, and almost invincible; excelling all men both in courage, and in strength, and in honourable desire to vanquish their enemies. But if the reins were laid loose upon their neck, they were apt to run into licentiousness and mischief; ready to consume either themselves by riot and sloth, or one another by sedition: prone to innovation and change; as heavily moved to undertake dangers, so not to be trusted upon occasion. He took to wife Matilde daughter to Baldwin Earl of Flanders, a man for his wisdom and power, both reverenced and feared even of Kings; but because she was his cousin German, he was for his marriage excommunicate by his own uncle maugre Archbishop of Rouen. Hereupon he sued to Pope Victor, and obtained of him a dispensation: and afterwards so wrought, that by a provincial Council his uncle maugre was deprived of his dignity. But by this means both he & his issue were firmly locked in obedience to the Sea of Rome; for that upon the authority of that place the validity of his marriage, and consequently the legitimation of his issue seemed to depend. When he was about 50. years of age, Edward King of England ended his life. This Edward was son to Egelred King of England, by Emma, sister to Richard the second Duke of Normandy, who was grandfather to Duke R●●h. I. R●●●. 2. I. R●●ert. I. William. Emma. I. Edward. William: so as King Edward and Duke William were cousins german once removed. At such time as Egelred was first overcharged with wars by the Danes, he sent his wife Emma, with two sons which she had borne unto him, Alphred and Edward, into Normandy to her brother; where they were entertained with all honourable usage for many years. Afterward giving place to the malice of his Fortune, he passed also into Normandy, and left his whole state in the possession and power of Swanus King of Denmark. But after the death of Swanus, partly by the aid of the Normans, and partly by favour of his own people, he recovered his Kingdom, and left the same to his eldest son Edmund. who either for the tough temper of his courage and strength, or for that he almost always lived in Arms, was surnamed Ironside. Hereupon Canutus the son of Swanus made sharp war, first against Egelred, then against Edmund: and finally after many varieties of adventure, but chiefly by the favour of the Clergy of England (because they had sworn allegiance to his father) spread the wings of his victory over the whole Kingdom. He expelled out of the Realm Edwine and Edward the two sons of King Edmund: of whom Edwine married the King's daughter of Hungary, but died without issue; Edward was advanced to the marriage of Agatha daughter to the Emperor Henry, and by her had issue two sons, Edmund & Edgar, and so many daughters, Margaret and Christine. The same Canutus took Emma to wife, who had been wife to King Egelred; by whom he had a son named Hardicanutus. After the death of Canutus, Alphred the son of Egelred came out of Normandy, and with fifty sail landed at Sandwich: with purpose to attempt the recovery of his father's kingdom. In which enterprise he received not only encouragement, but good assurance from many of the English Nobility. But by Earl Goodwin he was abused and taken; his company slain, his eyes put out, and then sent to the I'll of Elie, where in short time he ended his life. Edward also arrived at Hampton with 40. ships, but finding the Country so far from receiving, as they were ready to resist him, he returned into Normandy, and attended the further favour of time. So after Canutus succeeded in England, first Harold surnamed Harefoot, bastard son to Canutus; and after him Hardicanutus, son to Canutus by Emma, mother also to King Edward. Hardicanutus being dead, the Nobility of the Realm sent into Normandy for Edward to be their King; whereto also he was appointed as some have written by Hardicanutus. But because Alphred his brother upon the like invitation had been traitorously taken and slain before, William at that time Duke of Normandy would not permit him to depart, until he had received for pledges of his safety, Woolnoth son to Earl Goodwin, and Hacon son to Swain, Earl goodwin's eldest son. Upon this assurance he was furnished by the duke his cousin, with all means fit both for his enterprise and estate. And so he passed the Seas, arrived in England, and with general iov was received for King. He took to wife Edith the daughter of Earl Goodwin; but whether upon vow of chastity, or whether upon impotency of nature, or whether upon hatred to her father, or whether upon suspicion against herself (for all these causes are alleged by several writers of those times) he forbore all private familiarity with her. When he was well locked into the chair of State, Duke William came out of Normandy to see him, to show his magnificence to the English people; to show to the English, both that he loved their King, and that he was of power to relieve him, in case his necessities should so require. Here, besides honourable entertainment, besides many rich gifts both to himself and to his followers▪ the King having neither hope nor desire of issue, promised him, in regard of his great favours and deserts, that he should be his next successor in the Kingdom. And for further assurance thereof, sent him also the like message into Normandy, by Robert Archbishop of Canterbury. After this Harold son to Earl Goodwin passed the Seas into Normandy, to deal for the discharge of his brother Wolnoth and Hacon his nephew, who had been delivered for hostages to the Duke. In his passage he was much tossed with troublesome weather, and in the end was cast upon the coast of Ponthieu, and there taken by the Earl and committed to prison. But at the request of the Duke of Normandy, he was released with honourable respect, and by the Earl himself accompanied to the Duke; who entertained him with great magnificence at Rouen. The Duke was then going in Arms against the Britain's; in which journey Harold did accompany him, and showed himself a man, neither rash in undertaking, nor fearful in performing any services of the field. After prosperous return, the Duke declared to Harold, the purpose of King Edward concerning the Duke's succession to this Crown. Harold did avow the same to be true; and promised to afford thereto the best furtherance that he could. Hereupon the Duke assembled a Council at Bonevill; where Harold did swear fidelity unto him: and promised likewise by oath, that after the death of King Edward, he would keep the Realm of England to the use of the Duke: that he would deliver unto him the castle of Dover, and certain other pieces of defence, furnished at his own charge. Hereupon the Duke promised unto him his daughter in marriage, and with her half the Realm of England in name of her dower. He also delivered to him his nephew Hacon; but kept his brother Wolnoth as an hostage, for performance of that which Harold had sworn. In short time after King Edward died, and Harold being general commander of the forces of the Realm, seized upon the sovereignty, and without any accustomed solemnities set the crown upon his own head. The people were nothing curious to examine titles; but as men broken with long bondage, did easily entertain the first pretender. And yet to Harold they were inclinable enough, as well upon opinion of his prowess, as for that he endeavoured to win their favour, partly by abating their grievous payments, and partly by increasing the wages of his servants and Soldiers; generally, by using justice with clemency and courtesy towards all. About this time a Heu vani m●…nitus, ●…morantia Parcas Prodigia▪ Lucan. blazing star appeared and continued the space of seven days; which is commonly taken to portend alteration in States. Of this Comet a certain Poet, alluding to the baldness of the Norman, wrote these verses. Caesariem Caesar tibi si natura negavit, Hanc Willielme tibi stella comata dedit. Duke William sent divers Ambassadors to Harold; first to demand performance of his oath, afterward to move him to some moderate agreement. But ambition, a reasonless and restless humour, made him obstinate against all offers or inducements of peace. So they prepared to buckle in arms; equal both in courage and in ambitious desires, equal in confidence of their fortune: but Harold was the more adventurous, William the more advised man: Harold was more strong in Soldiers, William in Allies and friends. Harold was seated in possession, which in case of a kingdom is oftentimes with facility attained, but retained hardly: William pretended the donation of King Edward, and that he was near unto him in blood by the mother's side. Now there wanted not precedents, both ancient and of later times, that free kingdoms and principalities, not settled by custom in succession of blood, have been transported even to strangers by way of gift. Attalus king of ●…o. lib. 2. Eutr. lib. 4. epit. Liu. ●…9. Pergamus did constitute the people of Rome his heir; by force whereof they made his kingdom a part of their empire. Nicomedes King of Bythinia made the people of Rome likewise Eut●…. lib▪ ●… epit. 〈◊〉▪ ●… his heir; whereupon his kingdom was reduced to the form of a Province. So Alexander King of Egypt, gave Alexandria and the 〈…〉. kingdom of Egypt; and so Ptolemie gave the kingdom of Cyrene to the same people of Rome. Prasutagus one of the kings of great Britain, T●…▪ lib. 〈◊〉. gave the kingdom of the Iceni to Caesar Nero, and to his daughters. Yea, in the Imperial state of Rome, Augustus designed Tiberius to be his successor; and by like appointment Nero became successor to Claudius; Trojan to Nerua; Antonius Pius to Adrian; and Antoninus the Philosopher to another Antoninus. When the Emperor Galba did openly appoint Tacit. A●…. 〈◊〉 Piso for his successor, he declared to the people, that the same custom had been observed by most approved and ancient Princes. jugurth being adopted by Mycipsa, succeeded Saiust. bell. 〈◊〉 him in the kingdom of Numidia; and that by the judgement as well of Mycipsa himself, as of the Senate and people of Rome. The holy histories report that Solomon gave 1. R●…g. 9 twenty cities to Hiram king of tire: and if the argument be good from the part to the whole, he might in like sort have disposed of all his kingdom. Who hath not heard of the donation falsely attributed to Constantine the great, being in truth the donation of Lewis, surnamed the pious; whereby he gave to Pope Paschal the city of Rome, and a large territory adjoining unto it; the instrument of which gift Volaterrane doth recite. So the Lady Matild, 〈◊〉▪ ●…. daughter to Roger the most famous Prince of Cicilie, and wife to king Conrade, son to Henry the 4. Emperor, gave the Marquisate of ●…em. cap. 22. Apulia to the Bishop of Rome: which when the Emperor Otho the 4. refused to deliver, he was for that cause excommunicate by the Pope. In like sort the country of Dauphin was given Theod. Nehem. lib. ●…. cap. 25. by Prince Vmbert to the King of France, upon condition, that the eldest son of France should afterward be called Dauphin. Lastly, the Duke's first ancestor Rollo, received the Dukedom of Normandy by donation of Charles King of France: And himself held the County of Maine by donation of Earl Herebert, as before it is showed. And by donation of the King of Britain, Hengist obtained Kent; the first kingdom of the English Saxons in Britain. After which time the Country was never long time free from invasion: first, by the English and Saxons against the Britain's, afterward by the seven Saxon kingdoms among themselves, and then lastly by the Danes. By means whereof the kingdom at that time could not be settled in any certain form of succession by blood, as it hath been since; but was held for the most part in absolute dominion, and did often pass by transaction or gift: and he whose sword could cut best, was always adjudged to have most right. But of this question more shall hereafter be said, in the beginning of the life of King William the second. Touching his propinquity in blood to King Edward by the mother's side, he enforced it to be a good title: because King Edward not long before had taken succession from Hardicanutus, to whom he was brother by the mother's side. And although King Edward was also descended from the Saxon Kings, yet could not he derive from them any right: For that Edgar and his sisters were then alive, descended from Edmund Iron side, elder brother to King Edward. He could have no true right of succession, but only from Hardicanutus the Dane. So Pepine, when he was possessed of the State of France, did openly publish, that he was descended of the blood of Charles the Great, by the mother's side. And albeit the said Edgar was both nearer to King Edward then the Duke of Normandy, and also joined to him in blood by the father's side; yet was that no sufficient defence for Harold. The usurped possession of Harold A●…g. l. cre●…itor. & l. Claudius▪ D qui 〈◊〉▪ in 〈◊〉. ●…a. could not be defended, by alleging a better title of a third person. The injury which he did to Edgar, could not serve him for a title against any other. These grounds of his pretence, beautified with large amplifications of the benefits which he had done to King Edward, he imparted to the Bishop of Rome; who at time was reputed the arbitrator of controversies which did rise between princes. And the rather to procure his favour, and to gain the countenance of religion to his cause, he promised to hold the kingdom of England of the Apostolic Sea. Hereupon Alexander then Bishop of Rome allowed his title, and sent unto him a white hallowed banner, to advance upon the prow of his ship: also an Agnus Dei of gold, and one of S. Peter's hairs, together with his blessing to begin the enterprise. But now concerning his further proceedings, concerning his victorious both entrance and continuance within the Realm of England, two points are worthy to be considered: one, how he being a man of no great either power or dominion, did so suddenly prevail against a courageous King, possessed of a large and puissant State. The other is, how he so secured his victory, as not the English, not the Britain's, not the Danes, not any other could dispossess or much disturb him & his posterity, from enjoying the fair fruits thereof. And if we give to either of these their true respects, we shall find his commendation to consist, not so much in the first, as in the second: because that was effected chiefly by force, this by wisdom only; which as it is most proper to man, so few men do therein excel. He that winneth a State surmounteth only outward difficulties; but he that assureth the same, travaileth as well against internal weakness, as external strength. To attain a Kingdom is many times a gift of Fortune; but to provide that it may long time continue firm, is not only to oppose against human forces, but against the very malice of Fortune, or rather the power and wrath of time, whereby all things are naturally inclinable to change. For the first then, besides the secret working and will of God, which is the cause of all causes; besides the sins of the people, for which (the Prophet saith,) Kingdoms are transported from one Nation to another: King Edward not long before made a manifest way for this invasion and change. For although he was English by birth, yet by reason of his education in Normandy, he was altogether become a Normane, both in affection and in behaviour of life. So as in imitation of him, the English abandoned the ancient usages of their Country, and with great Moribus antiquis res stat Romanae Viris●…ue. Aeneid. affection or affectation rather, conformed themselves to the fashions of France. His chief acquaintance and familiar friends were no other than Normans; towards whom being a mild and soft spirited Prince, he was very bountiful, and almost immoderate in his savours. These he enriched with great possessions; these he honoured with the highest places both of dignity and charge. Chiefly he advanced divers of them to the best degrees of dignity in the Church: by whose favour Duke William afterward was both animated & aided in his exploit. Generally as the whole Clergy of England conceived a hard opinion of Harold; for that upon the same day wherein King Edward was buried, he set the Crown upon his own head, without Religious Ceremonies, without any solemnities of Coronation: so they durst not for fear of the Pope's displeasure, but give either furtherance or forbearance to the Duke's proceedings; and to abuse the credit which they had with the people, in working their submission to the Normans. Now of what strength the Clergy was at that time within the Realm, by this which followeth it may appear. After that Harold was slain▪ Edwine and Morcar Earls of Northumberland and Marckland, brothers of great both authority and power within the Realm, had induced many of the Nobility to declare Edgar Athelinge to be their King: but the Prelates not only crossed that purpose, but delivered Edgar the next heir from the Saxon Kings to the pleasure of the Duke. Again, when the Duke after his great victory at Hastings advanced his army towards Hartford-shire; Frederick Abbot of S. Albans had caused the woods belonging to his Church to be felled, and the trees to be cast so thick in the way, that the Duke was compelled to coast about to the castle of Berkhamstead. To this place the Abbot under Sureties came unto him; and being demanded wherefore he alone did offer that opposition against him, with a confident countenance he returned answer: that he had done no more than in conscience and by Nature he was bound to do: and that if the residue of the Clergy had borne the like mind, he should never have pierced the land so far. Well, answered the Duke, I know that your Clergy is powerful indeed; but if I live and prosper in my affairs, I shall govern their greatness well enough. Assuredly, nothing doth sooner work the conversion or subversion of a State, then that any one sort of Subjects should grow so great, as to be able to overrule all the rest. Besides this disposition of the Clergy, divers of the Nobility also did nothing favour King Harold or his cause: for that he was a manifest usurper, naked of all true title to the Crown, pretending only as borne of the daughter of Hardicanutus the Dane. Yea he was infamous both for his injury and perjury towards the Duke, and no less hateful for his disloyalty in former times, in bearing Arms with his father against King Edward. Hereupon the Nobility of the Realm were broken into factions. Many (of whom his own brother Tosto was chief) invited Harold King of Norway to invade▪ with whom whilst Harold of England was encountering in Arms, the residue drew in Duke William out of Normandy. And these also were divided in respects. Some were carried by particular ends, as being prepared in divers manner by the Normane before hand: others upon a greedy and for the most part deceivable ambition, in hunting after hazard and change: others were led with love to their Country, partly to avoid the tempest which they saw to gather in clouds against them, and partly to enlarge the Realm both in dominion and strength, by adjoining the Country of Normandy unto it. In which regard, (because the less doth always accrue to the greater) they thought it more advantageable to deal with a Prince of an inferior state, then with a Prince of a state superior or equal. As for Edgar Atheling, the next successor to the Crown in right of blood, he was not of sufficient age; of a simple wit and slow courage; not gracious to the English, as well for his imperfections both in years and nature, as for that he was altogether unacquainted with the customs and conditions of their Country: unfurnished of forces and reputation, unfurnished of friends, unfurnished of all means to support his title. So Duke William having better right than the one, and more power than the other, did easily carry the prize from both. Now touching the state of his own strength, albeit Normandy was but little in regard of England, yet was it neither feeble nor poor. For the people, by reason of their continual exercise in Arms, by reason of the weighty wars which they had managed, were well enabled both in courage and skill for all Military achievements. Their valour also had been so favoured by their Fortune, that they were more enriched by spoil, then drawn down either with losses or with charge. Hereupon when preparation was to be made for the enterprise of England, although some dissuaded the Duke from embracing the attempt, affirming that it was a vain thing to strain at that which the hand is not able to contain, to take more meat than the stomach can bear; that he who catcheth at matters too great, is in great danger to gripe nothing: Yet did others not only encourage him by advise, but enable him by their aid. Among which William Fitz-Auber did furnish 40. ships with men and munition; The Bishop of Baieux likewise 40: the Bishop of Man's 30: and in like sort others, according to the proportion of their estates. And yet he drew not his forces only out of Normandy, but received aid from all parts of France; answerable not only to his necessity, but almost to his desire. Philip King of France at that time was under age, and Baldwine Earl of Flanders was governor of the Realm; whose daughter the Duke had taken to wife. By his favour the Duke received large supplies from the state of France, both in treasure and in men of war: for countenance whereof it was given forth, that the Duke should hold the Realm of England as he did the Duchy of Normandy, under homage to the Crown of France. Hereupon divers Princes of France did adjoin to his aid; and especially the Duke of Orleans, the Earls of Britain, Anjou, Boulogne, Ponthieu, Nevers, Poictou, Hiesmes, Aumale, and the Lord of Tours. Many other of the Nobility and Gentlemen did voluntarily adventure, both their bodies and whole estates upon the event of this enterprise. So greatly had he either by courtesy won the love, or by courage erected the hopes of all men: yea of many who had been his greatest enemies. With these also the Emperor Henry 4. sent him certain troops of Soldiers, commanded by a Prince of Almain. He received also many promises of favour from Swain King of Denmark. And who can assure (for the sequel maketh the conjecture probable) that he held not intelligence with Harold Harfager King of Norway, to invade England with two armies at once. So partly by his own Subjects, and partly by supply from his Alleys and friends, he amassed a strong Army, consisting chiefly of Normans, Flemings, French and Britain's, to the number of fifty thousand men; and brought them to S. Valeries, before which Town his ships did ride. Here he stayed a certain time attending the wind, as most writers do report; but rather as it may be conjectured, to await the arrival of Harold Harfager K. of Norway: knowing right well, that the invasion of Harold of Norway upon the North parts of the realm, would draw away Harold of England to leave the coasts towards the South undefended. During his abode at S. Valeries, certain English espials were taken, whom King Harold had sent to discover both the purposes and power of the Duke. When they were brought to his presence, with a brave confidence he said unto them: Your Lord might well have spared this charge; he needed not to have cast away his cost to understand that by your industry and faith, which my own presence shall manifest unto him; more certainly, more shortly than he doth expect. Go your ways, go tell him from me, If he find me not before the end of this year▪ in the place where he supposeth that he may most safely set his foot, let him never fear danger from me whilst he live. Many Normans disliked this open dealing of the Duke: preferring to his judgement the valour and experience of King Harold; the greatness of his treasure; the number and goodness of his men; but especially his strong Navy, and expert Sailors; accustomed both to the fights and dangers of the Sea, more than any other people in the world. To these the Duke turned, and said: I am glad to hear this opinion run, both of his prowess and of his power; the greater shall our glory be in prevailing against him. But I see right well that I have small cause to fear his discovery of our strength, when you, who are so near unto me, discern so little. Rest yourselves upon the justice of your cause and foresight of your Commander. Who hath less than he, who can justly term nothing his own? I know more of his weakness, than ever he shall know of my strength, until he feel it. Perform you your parts like men, and he shall never be able to disappoint either my assurance, or your hopes. Now Harold King of England had prepared a fleet to resist the invasion of the duke of Normandy: but by reason of his long stay at S. Valeries, speeches did spread, whether by error or subornation, yea, assured advertisement was sent out of Flanders, that he had for that year abandoned his enterprise. In the mean time Harold Harfager King of Norway, than whom no man was esteemed more valiant, having assured both intelligence and aid out of England, arrived in the mouth of Humber: and from thence drawing up against the stream of the river Owse, landed at a place called Richhall. Here he Marshaled his Army, and marched forth into the Country: and when he came near unto York▪ he was encountered by the English, led by Edwine and Morchar the principal commanders of all those quarters. The fight was furious, but in the end the English were overthrown, and with a great slaughter chases into York. Upon advertisement hereof, Harold King of England carried all his forces against Harfager. His readiness was such, and such his expedition, that the fifth day after the fight before mentioned he gave him battle again; wherein Harold Harfager was slain, and so was Tosto the King of England's brother: Tosto by an uncertain enemy, but Harfager by the hand of Harold of England. Their army also was routed, and with a bloody execution pursued, so long as day and fury did last. Here a certain Soldier of Norway was most famous almost for a miracle of manhood. He had been appointed with certain others, to guard the passage at Stamford bridge. The residue upon approach of the English forsook their charge; but he alone stepped to the foot of the Bridge, and with his Battle-axe sustained the shock of the whole army; slew above forty assailants, and defended both the passage and himself, until an English Soldier went under the Bridge, and through a hole thereof thrust him into the body with a Lance. If this victory of King Harold had been so wisely used as it was valiantly won, he should have neglected the spoil, and returned with the like celerity wherewith he came. But he gave discontentment to his Soldiers, in abridging their expectation for free sharing the spoil; and having lost many in that conflict, he retired to York, and there stayed; as well to reform the state of the Country, greatly disordered by means of these wars, as also both to refresh and repair his army. In the mean time the Duke of Normandy receiving intelligence, that the Sea-coasts were left naked of defence, loosed from S. Valeries with three hundred, or, as some writer's report, 896, or, as one Norman writer affirms, with more than one thousand sail: and having a gentle gale, arrived at Pemsey in Sussex, upon the 28. of September. The ship wherein the Duke was carried is said, (as if it had run for the garland of victory) to have outstripped the rest so far, that the sailors were enforced to strike sail, and hull before the wind to have their company. When he first stepped upon the shore, one of his feet slipped a little. The Duke to recover himself stepped more strongly with the other foot, and sunk into the sand somewhat deep. One of his Soldiers espying this, said merrily unto him: You had almost fallen my Lord, but you have well maintained your standing, and have now taken deep and firm footing in the soil of England. The presage is good, and hereupon I salute you King. The Duke laughed; and the soldiers, with whom superstition doth strongly work, were much confirmed in courage by the jest. When he had landed his forces, he fortified a piece of ground with strong trenches, and discharged all his ships; leaving to his soldiers no hope to save themselves, but only by victory. After this he published the causes of his coming in arms, namely: 1 To challenge the kingdom of England, given to him by his cousin King Edward, the last lawful possessor at that time thereof. 2 To revenge the death of his cousin Alfred, brother to the same K. Edward, and of the Normans, who did accompany him into England; no less cruelly then deceitfully slain by Earl Goodwin and his adherents. 3 To revenge the injury done unto Robert Archbishop of Canterbury; who by the practice (as it was then given forth) of Harold, had been exiled in the life time of King Edward. This last article was added either to please the Pope, or generally in favour of the Clergy: to whom the example grew then intolerable, that an Archbishop should be once questioned by any other then by themselves. So the Duke, leaving his fortification furnished with competent forces to assure the place, as well for a retreat, as for daily landing of fresh supplies, marched forward to Hastings; and there raised another fortress, and planted likewise a garrison therein. And in all places he restrained his Soldiers, either from spoiling or harming the Country people, for fear that thereby they would fall into disorder: but giving forth, that it were cruelty to spoil them, who in short time should be his Subjects. Here the Duke, because he would not either adventure or trust his Soldiers, went forth in person to discover the Country, with 15. horsemen in his company, and no more. His return was on foot, by reason of the evil qualitied ways: and when Fitz-Osberne who went with him, was over wearied with the weight of his armour, the Duke eased him by bearing his helmet upon his shoulder. This action may seem of slender regard; but yet did gain him, both favour and duty among his Soldiers. K. Harold hearing of these approaches, hasted by great journeys towards London; sending his messengers to all places, both to encourage and entreat the people to draw together for their common defence. Here he mustered his Soldiers; and albeit he found that his forces were much impaired by his late battle against Harfager, yet he gathered an able army, countenanced and commanded by divers of the Nobility, which resorted unto him from many parts of the Realm. The Duke in the mean time sent a messenger unto him, who demanded the Kingdom in so stout manner, that he was at the point to have been evil entreated by the King. Again the King sent his messenger to the Duke, forbidding him with lofty language, to make any stay within that Country; but to return again no less speedily, then rashly he had entered. The Duke between mirth and scorn returned answer; That as he came not upon his entreaty, so at his command he would not depart. But (said he) I am not come to word with your King, I am come to fight, and am desirous to fight: I will be ready to fight with him, albeit I had but 10000 such men as I have brought 60000. K. Harold spent little time, lost none (unless happily that which he might have taken more) both in appointing and ordering his Army. And when he was ready to take the field, his mother entreated him, first moderately, then with words of passion and with tears, that he would not adventure his person to the battle. Her importunity was admired the more, for that it was both without any apparent cause, and not usual in former times. But Harold with undaunted countenance and heart, conducted his Army into Sussex, and encamped within seven miles of the Normans: who thereupon approached so near to the English, that the one Army was within view of the other. First, espials were sent on both sides, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for the state and condition of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 They who were sent from the English 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 large report, both of the number, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 meant, and discipline of the Normans. Whereupon Girth, younger brother to King Harold presented him with advise, not to play his whole State at a cast; not to be so carried with desire of victory, as not to await the time to attain it: that it is proper to Invaders presently to fight, because they are then in the very pride and flourish of their strength; but the assailed should rather delay battle, rather observe only and attend their enemies, cut off their relief, vex them with incommodities, weary them, and wear them out by degrees: that it could not be long before the Duke's army, being in a strange Country, would be reduced to necessities; it could not be long but by reason it consisted of divers nations, it would draw into disorder: that it was proper to an army compounded of different people, to be almost invincible at the first, whilst all contend to excel or at least to equal other in brave performance; but if they be advisedly endured, they will easily fall into disorders, and lastly of themselves dissolve. Or if (said he) you resolve to fight, yet because you are sworn to the Duke, you shall do well to withdraw your presence; to employ your authority in mustering a new army, to be ready to receive him with fresh forces. And if you please to commit the charge of this encounter unto me, I will not fail to express, both the love of a brother, and the care and courage of a Commander. For as I am not obliged to the Duke by oath, so shall I either prevail with the better cause, or with the quieter conscience die. Both these counsels were rejected by Harold: The first out of a violent vehemency of these Northern nations, who do commonly esteem delay of battle a dejected cowardice, a base and servile deflowering of time; but to bear through their designs at once, they account a point of honourable courage. The second he esteemed both shameful to his reputation, and hurtful to the state of his affairs. For what honour had he gained by his former victories, if when he came to the greatest pinch of danger, he should fearfully shrink back? with what heart should the soldiers fight, when they have not his presence for whom they fight? when they have not their General an eye witness of their performance? when they want his sight, his encouragement, his example to inflame them to valour? The presence of the Prince is worth many thousands of ordinary Soldiers: The ordinary Soldier will undertake both labour and danger for no other respects so much, as by the presence of the Prince. And therefore he did greatly extenuate the worth of the Normans, terming them a company of Priests; because their fashion was to shave their faces: But whatsoever they were, as he had (he said) digested in his mind the hardest events of battle; so either the infamy or suspicion of cowardice in no case he would incur. He resolved not to overlive so great dishonour; he resolved to set up as his last rest, his Crown, and Kingdom; and life withal. And thus oftentimes Fortune dealeth with men, as Executioners do with condemned persons; she will first blindfold, and then dispatch them. After this the Norman sent a Monk to offer the choice of these conditions to Harold; Either to relinquish his kingdom upon certain conditions; or to hold it under homage to the Duke; or to try their cause by single combat; or to submit it to the judgement of the Pope, according to the Laws of Normandy or of England, which he would. Again, some conditions were propounded from K. Harold to the Duke: But their thoughts were so lifted up both with pride and confidence, by reason of their former victories, that no moderate overture could take place: and so they appointed the day following, which was the 14. of October, to determine their quarrel by sentence of the sword. This happened to be the birth day of K. Harold, which for that cause by a superstitious error, he conjectured would be prosperous unto him. The night before the battle for divers respects was unquiet. The English spent the time in feasting and drinking; and made the air ring with shouts and songs: the Normans were more soberly silent, and busied themselves much in devotion; being rather still then quiet, not so much watchful as not able to sleep. At the first appearance of the day, the 〈◊〉 and the Duke were ready in Arms, en●…ging their Soldiers, and ordering them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; in whose eyes it seemed that 〈◊〉 did sparkle, and that in their face and gesture victory did sit. The Duke put certain relics about his neck, upon which King Harold had sworn unto him. It is reported that when he armed, the back of his cuirasses was placed before by error of him that put it on: some would have been dismayed hereat, but the Duke smiled, and said; Assuredly this day my Fortune will turn, I shall either be a King, or nothing before night. The English were knit in one main body on foot; whereof the first ranks consisted of Kentishmen (who by an ancient custom did challenge the honour of that place,) the next were filled with Londoners; then followed the other English. Their chief weapons were pole-axe, sword and dart, with a large target for their defence. They were paled in front with pavises in such wise, that it was thought impossible for the enemy to break them. The King stood on foot by his Standard, with two of his brothers, Girth and Leofwine; as well to relieve from thence all parts that should happen to be distressed, as also to manifest to the Soldiers, that they retained no thought of escaping by flight. On the other side, the Normans were divided into three battles: The first was conducted by Roger Montgomerie, and William Fitz-Osborne; it consisted of horsemen of Anjou, Maine and Britain, commanded by a Britain named Fergent; It carried the Banner which the Pope had sent. The middle battle consisting of Soldiers out of Germany and Poictou, was led by Geoffrye Martell, and a Prince of Almain. The Duke himself closed the last battle, with the strength of his Normans and the flower of his Nobility. The Archers were divided into wings, and also dispersed by bands through all the three battles. Thus were both sides set upon a bloody bargain; ambition, hope, anger, hate, inflaming them to valour. The duke edged his Soldiers, by declaring unto them the noble Acts of their ancestors, the late admirable achievement of their fellow Normans in subduing the Kingdom of Sicill, their own brave exploits under him; by showing them all that pleasant and plentiful Country, as the purchase of their prowess, as the gain and reward of their adventure: by putting them in mind, that they were in a Country both hostile & unknown, before them the sword, the vast Ocean behind, no place of retreat, no surety but in valour and in victory; so as they who would not contend for glory, were upon necessity to fight for their lives: Lastly, by assuring them, that as he was the first in advise, so would he be the foremost in adventure, being fully resolved either to vanquish, or to die. The King encouraged his men, by presenting to their remembrance, the miseries which they sustained not long before, under the oppression of the Danes; which whether they were again to endure, or never to fear, it lieth (said he) in the issue of this field. The King had the advantage both for number of men, and for their large able bodies; The Duke both in Arms, (especially in regard of the Bow and arrows,) and in experience and skill of Arms; both equal in courage; both confident alike in the favour of Fortune, which had always crowned their courage with victory. And now by affronting of both the Armies, the plots and labours of many months, were reduced to the hazard of a few hours. The Normans marched with a song of the valiant acts of Rowland, esteeming nothing of peril in regard of the glory of their adventure. When they approached near their enemies, they saluted them first with a storm of Arrows: Robert Fitz-Beaumant a young Gentleman of Normandy, beginning the fight from the right Wing. This manner of fight as it was new, so was it most terrible to the English, so were they lest provided to avoid it. First, they opened their ranks, to make way for the Arrows to fall; but when that avoidance did nothing avail, they closed again, and covered themselves with their Targets, joined together in manner of a pendhouse; encouraging one another, to hast forward, to leap lustily to handstrokes, and to scour their swords in the entrails of their enemies. Then the Duke commanded his horsemen to charge: but the English received them upon the points of their weapons, with so lively courage, in so firm and stiff order, that the overthrow of many of the foremost, did teach their followers to adventure themselves with better advise. Hereupon they shifted into wings, and made way for the footmen to come forward. Then did both armies join in a horrible shock, with Pole-axes, & the Prince of weapons the sword: maintaining the fight with so manlike fury, as if it had been a battle of Giants, rather than of men. And so they continued the greatest part of that day, in close and furious fight; blow for blow, wound for wound, death for death; their feet steady, their hands diligent, their eyes watchful, their hearts resolute; neither their advisement dazzled by fierceness, nor their fierceness any thing abated by advisement. In the mean time the horsemen gave many sharp charges, but were always beaten back with disadvantage. The greatest annoyance came from the Archers; whose shot showered among the English so thick, as they seemed to have the enemy in the midst of their Army. Their armour was not sufficiently either complete or of proof to defend them, but every hand, every finger breadth unarmed, was almost an assured place for a deep, and many times a deadly wound. Thus whilst the front was maintained in good condition, many thousands were beaten down behind; whose death was not so grievous unto them, as the manner of their death, in the midst of their friends, without an enemy at hand, upon whom they might show some valour, and work some revenge. This manner of fight would soon have determined aswell the hopes as the fears of both sides, had not the targets of English been very serviceable unto them; Had not King Harold also with a lively and constant resolution, performed the part, not only of a skilful commander, by directing, encouraging, providing, relieving; but of a valiant Soldier by using his weapon, to the example of his Soldiers. In places of greatest danger he was always present; repairing the decays, reforming the disorders, and encouraging his company, that in doing as men, whether they prevailed, or whether they perished, their labour was always gloriously employed. So they knit strongly together, and stood in close and thick array, as if they had been but one body: not only bearing the brunt of their enemies, but making such an impression upon their squadron, that the great body began to shake. The Duke adventured in person so far, moved no less by his natural magnanimity, then by glory of the enterprise, that besides his often alighting to fight on foot, two, or (as some report) three horses were slain under him. And having a body both able by nature, and by use hardened to endure travail, he exacted the greater service of his Soldiers: commending the forward, blaming the slow, and crying out (according to his nature) with vehement gesture and voice unto all; that it was a shame for them who had been victorious against all men with whom they dealt, to be so long held by the English in delay of victory. So partly by his authority, and partly by his example, he retained his Soldiers, and imposed upon them the fairest necessity of courage; whilst every man contended to win a good opinion of their Prince. Then the fight entered into a new fit of heat; nothing less feared than death, the greatness of danger making both sides the more resolute: and they who could not approach to strike with the hand, were heard to encourage their fellows by speech, to pursue the victory, to pursue their glory, not to turn to their own both destruction and disgrace. The clashing of armour, the justling of bodies, the resounding of blows, was the fairest part of this bloody medley: but the grislinesse of wounds, the hideous falls and groans of the dying, all the field defiled with dust, blood, broken armour, mangled bodies, represented Terror in her foulest form. Never was fury better governed; never game of death better played. The more they fought the better they fought; the more they smarted, the less they regarded smart. At the last, when the Duke perceived that the English could not be broken by strength of arm, he gave direction that his men should retire and give ground; not loosely, not disorderly, as in a fearful and confused haste, but advisedly and for advantage; keeping the front of their squadron firm and close, without disbanding one foot in array. Nothing was more hurtful to the English, being of a frank and noble spirit, then that their violent inclination carried them too fast into hope of victory. For, feeling their enemies to yield under their hand, they did rashly follow those who were not hasty to flee: And in the heat of their pursuit, upon a false conceit of victory, loosed and disordered their ranks, thinking then of nothing but of executing the chase. The Normans espying the advantage to be ripe, made a stiff stand, redoubled upon the English, and pressing on with a fury equal to their favourable fortune, with a cruel butchery broke into them. On the other side it is scarce credible with what strength both of courage and hand the English even in despite of death, sustained themselves in this disorder; drawing into small squadrons, and beating down their enemies on every hand, being resolved to sell their lives with their place. But a mischief is no mischief, if it comes alone. Besides this disadvantage of disarray, the shot of the Normans, did continually beat upon the English with a grievous execution. Among other King Harold about the closing of the evening, as he was busy in sustaining his army, both with voice and with hand, was struck with an arrow through the left eye into his brains, of which wound he presently died. His two brothers, Girth and Leofwine were also slain, and also most of the nobility that were present: So long as the King stood, they stood stoutly, both with him, and for him, and by him: his directions supported them, his brave behaviour breathed fresh boldness and life into them. But his death was a deadly stab to their courage; upon report of his death, they began to waver in resolution, whether to trust to the force of their arms, or to commend their safety to their good footemanship. In this incertainty many were slain: Many retired in reasonable order to a rising ground, whither they were closely followed by the Normans; but the English having gotten advantage of the place, and drawing courage out of despair, with a bloody charge did drive them down. Count Eustachius supposing fresh forces to be arrived, fled away with fifty Soldiers in his company; and meeting with the Duke, rounded him secretly in his ear, that if he went any further he was undone. Whilst he was thus speaking, he was struck between the shoulder with so violent a blow, that he fell down as dead, and voided much blood at his nose and mouth. In this conflict many of the noblest Normans were slain, which moved the Duke to make a strong ordered stand, giving liberty thereby for those English to retire. Others fled through a watery channel, the passages whereof were well known unto them: and when the Normans did more sharply then advisedly pursue, the place being shadowed partly with Sedges and Reeds, and partly with the night, they were either stifled in the waters, or easily destroyed by the English, and that in so great numbers, that the place was filled up with dead bodies. The residue scattered in smaller companies, and had their flight favoured by increasing darkness: the enemy not adventuring to follow, both in a strange Country, and in the night. Earl Edwine and Earl Morcher, brothers of approved both courage and faith, did great service at that time, in collecting these dispersed Troops, and leading them in some fashion to London. Duke William surprised with joy, gave public charge for a solemn thanksgiving to God. Then he erected his pavilion in the midst of the field, among the thickest of those bodies whom death had made to lie quietly together. There he passed the residue of that night; and the next morning mustered his soldiers, buried those that were slain, and gave liberty to the English to do the like. The body of King Harold could not be known by his face, it was so deformed by death, and by his wound; by his armour and by certain marks upon his body it was known. As it lay upon the ground, a Norman Soldier did strike it into the leg with his sword: for which unmanly act he was cassed by the Duke with open disgrace. It was carried into the Duke's Pavilion, under the custody of William Mallet. And when his mother made suit for it to be buried, the Duke denied it at the first; affirming, that burial was not fit for him, whose ambition was the cause of so many Funerals. The mother, besides her lamentations and tears, offered for it (as one Norman writer affirms) the weight thereof in gold. But the Duke, with a manly compassion gave it freely; as holding it dishonourable both to value the body of a King, and make sale of a slain enemy. So his body was buried by his mother at Waltham Cross, within the monastery which he had founded. Verily there was nothing to be blamed in him, but that his courage could not stoop to be lower than a King. I have been the more long in describing this battle, for that I esteem it the most memorable and best executed that ever was fought within this land: as well for skilful direction, as for courageous performance, and also for the greatness of the event. The fight continued with very great both constancy of courage, and variety of fortune, from seven of the clock in the morning until night. Of the Normans were slain 6000. and more, besides those that were drowned and beaten down in the water. The slaughter of the English is uncertainly reported, but certainly it was far greater than that of the Normans. Certain also that their death was most honourable and fair, not any one basely abandoning the field; not any one yielding to be taken prisoner. And yet one circumstance more I hold fit to be observed; that this victory was gotten only by the means of the blow of an arrow: The use whereof was by the Normans first brought into this land. Afterward the English being trained to that fight, did thereby chiefly maintain themselves with honourable advantage, against all nations with whom they did contend in arms; being generally reputed the best shot in the world. But of late years it hath been altogether laid aside, and in stead thereof the arqebus and caliver are brought into use: yet not without contradiction of many expert men of Arms; who albeit they do not reject the use of these small pieces, yet do they prefer the Bow before them. First, for that in a reasonable distance, it is of greater both certainty and force. Secondly, for that it dischargeth faster. Thirdly, for that more men may discharge therewith at once: for only the first rank dischargeth the piece, neither hurt they any but those that are in front; but with the bow 10. or 12. ranks may discharge together, and will annoy so many ranks of the enemies. Lastly, for that the arrow doth strike more parts of the body: for in that it hurteth by descent; (and not only point blank like the bullet) there is no part of the body but it may strike; from the crown of the head, even to the nailing of the foot to the ground. Hereupon it followeth, that the arrows falling so thick as hail upon the bodies of men, as less fearful of their flesh, so more slenderly armed then in former times, must necessarily work most dangerous effects. Besides these general respects in many particular services and times, the use of the Bow is of greatest advantage. If some defence lie before the enemy, the arrow may strike where the bullet cannot. Fowl weather may much hinder the discharge of the piece, but it is no great impediment to the shot of the Bow. A horse struck with a bullet if the wound be not mortal, may perform good service; but if an arrow be fastened in his flesh, the continual stirring thereof, occasioned by the motion of himself, will enforce him to cast off all command, and either bear down or disorder those that are near. But the crack of the piece (will some man say) doth strike a terror into the enemy. True, if they be such as never heard the like noise before. But a little use will extinguish these terrors: to men, yea to beasts acquainted with these cracks, they work a weak impression of fear. And if it be true which all men of action do hold, that the eye in all battles is first overcome, then against men equally accustomed to both, the sight of the arrow is more available to victory then the crack of the piece. Assuredly, the Duke before the battle encouraged his men, for that they should deal with enemies who had no shot. But I will leave this point to be determined by more discerning judgements, and happily by further experience in these affairs, and return again to my principal purpose. The next day after the victory the Duke returned to Hastings, about seven miles from the place of the encounter, partly to refresh his Army, and partly to settle in advise and order for his further prosecution. First, he dispatched messengers to signify his success to his friends abroad; to the Pope he sent King Harold's Standard, which represented a man fight, wrought curiously with gold and precious stones. Afterwards placing a strong garrison at Hastings, he conducted his Army towards London: not the direct way, but coasted about through part of Kent, through Sussex, Surrey, Hampshire, and Berkshire: the ways where he passed being as free from resistance, as his thoughts were from change. At Walling ford he passed over the Thames; and then marched forward through Oxford shire, Buckinghamshire, and Hartford-shire, until he came to the Castle at Berkhamstead. In this passage many of his Soldiers languished and died of the Flux. And whether it were upon licentiousness after the late victory, or whether for want of necessary provision, or whether to strike a terror into the English, or whether to leave no danger at his back, he permitted the sword to range at large, to harrie freely, to defile many places with ruin and blood. In the mean time the English Lords assembled at London, to advise upon their common affairs; but the variety of opinions was the chief impediment to the present service; the danger being more important, than the counsel resolute, or the confidence assured. The Nobility inclined to declare Edgar grandchild to Edmund Ironside, to be their King: and with these the Londoners wholly went. But those of the Clergy were of opinion (some upon particular respects, all upon fear to displease the Pope) to yield to the storm and stream of the present time, to yield to the mighty Arm of GOD; that their forces being prostrated, their hopes feeble and forlorn, they must be content not to be constrained; they must not provoke the Victor too far; against whose forces and felicities, time gave them not power to oppose. This deliberation held so long, that all the time of action was spent. For the Duke approached so near the City, that many preferring their safety before other respects, withdrew themselves and went unto him. Hereupon the residue dissolved: and Alfred Archb. of York, Wolstane Bishop of Worcester, Wilfire B. of Hereford, and many other Prelates of the Realm went unto the Duke at Berkhamstead; accompanied with Edgar, Earl Edwine, Earl Morchar, and divers others of the Nobility: who gave pledges for their allegiance, and were thereupon received to subjection and favour. The Duke presently dispatched to London, was received with many declarations of joy, the lesser in heart, the fairer in appearance, and upon Christmas day next following was crowned King. Now the means whereby this victory was Imperiumijs ar●…bus facil●…me retinet●…r quibus partum est. S●…l. Catil. assured, were the very same whereby it was achieved; even by a stiff and rigorous hand. For whosoever supposeth that a State attained by force, can be retained by milder means, he shall find himself disappointed of his hopes. A people newly subdued by force, will so long remain in obedience, as they find themselves not of force to resist. And first he endeavoured either to prevent or appease all foreign wars, especially against the Danes, who were then chiefly feared in England, as well in regard of their former victories, as for that they pretended title to the Crown. And herein two things did especially favour his affairs. One, for that the Normans were in some sort allied to the Danes; being the progeny of those Norwegians and Danes, which under the conduct and fortune of Rollo invaded France, & after many great achievements, seated in Normandy. The other was, for that after the death of Canutus, the state of Denmark was much enfeebled by division. For the Norwegians set up Magnus the son of Olaus for their King; but the Danes acknowledged Canutus the third of that name: by means whereof that puissant empire did languish in consumption of itself, and could not be dangerous to any neighbour Country. Yet ceased they not for many years, to continue claim to the Crown of England: But King William had purchased many sure and secret friends in that diseased state, wherein all public affairs were set to sale; especially he used the authority of Adelbert, Archbishop of Hamburgh, either to cross all counsel of hostility against him, or else to delay, and thereby to delude the enterprise, or lastly so to manage the action, that it should no●… work any dangerous effect. After the death of Swain, Canutus prepared a Navy of one thousand sail for invasion of England; and was aided with six hundred more by Robert le Frizon, whose daughter he had taken to wife. But either for want, or else by negligence, or happily of purpose, this Navy continued, partly in preparation, and partly in a readiness, the space of two years, and then the voyage was laid aside. The cause was attributed to contrariety of winds; but the contrariety of wills was the truest impediment. Likewise Swain had furnished against England a Navy of 204. sail, commanded by Earl Osborne his brother. Another fleet of 200. sail was set forth under the charge of Earl Hacon: But King William so corrupted them both, that the one departed out of the Realm without performing any great exploit, the other never would arrive. Also out of those confusions in England, Malcolm King of Scots, did take his opportunity for action. He received into protection many English, who either for fear, or for discontentment, forsook their Country; of whom many families in Scotland are descended, and namely these; Lindsey, Vaus, Ramsey, Lovel, Towbris, Sandlands, Bissart, Sowlis, Wardlaw, Maxwell, with divers others. He entertained into his Court Edgar Atheling, and took his sister Margaret to wife. He possessed himself of a great part of Cumberland, and of Northumberland; wherewith the people were well content, for that he was their Earl's sisters son. Hereupon King William sent against him, first, Roger a Norman, who was traitorously slain by his own Soldiers; then Gospatrick, Earl of Gloucester: These did only repress the enemy, but were not able to finish the war fully. Lastly, he went himself with a mighty army into Scotland, where he made wide waste, and in Lothiam found King Malcolm, prepared both in force and resolution to entertain him with battle. The great army of King William, their fair furniture and order, their sudden coming, but especially their firm countenance and readiness to fight, much daunted the Scots: whereupon King Malcolm sent a Herald to King William, to move him to some agreement of peace. The more that the King was pleased herewith, the more he seemed unwilling and strange: the more he must be persuaded to that, which if it had not been offered, he would have desired. At the last, a peace was concluded, upon conditions honourable for King William, and not unreasonable for the King of Scots: whereby all the English were pardoned, who had fled into Scotland, and borne arms against their King. As for the Welsh, albeit both their courage and their power had been extremely broken in the time of King Edward, and that by the valour and industry of Harold; yet upon advantage of these troubled times, they made some incursions into the borders of England; but in companies so disordered and small, so secretly assaulting, so suddenly retiring, so desirous more of pillage then of blood, that they seemed more like to ordinary robbers then to enemies in field. Against these the King led an army into Wales, reduced the people both to subjection and quiet, made all the principal men tributary unto him, received pledges of all, for assurance of their obedience and faith. Whilst the King thus settled his affairs abroad, he secured himself against his subjects, Quos v●…ceris ●…aue amicos tibi credas. Curt. lib. 7. not by altering their will, but by taking away their power to rebel. The stoutest of the Nobility and Gentlemen were spent, either by war, or by banishment, or by voluntary avoidance out of the Realm. All these he stripped of their states, and in place of them advanced his Normans: insomuch as scarce a ny noble family of the English blood did bear either office or authority within the Realm. And these ran headlong to servitude; the more hasty and with the fairer show, the more either countenanced or safe. These he did assure unto him, not only by oath of fidelity and homage, but either by pledges, or else by retaining them always by his side. And because at that time the Clergy were the principal strings of the English strength, he permitted not any of the English Nation to be advanced to the dignities of the Church, but furnished them with Normans, and other strangers. And whereas in times before, the Bishop and Alderman were absolute judges in every Shire, and the Bishop in many causes shared in forfeitures and penalties with the King; he clipped the wings of their Temporal power, and confined them within the limits of their Ecclesiastical jurisdiction; to maintain the Canons and customs of the Church, to deal in affairs concerning the soul. He procured Stigand Archbishop of Canterbury, Agelwine Bishop of Eastangles, and certain other Bishops and Abbots, to be deprived by authority from Rome, and detained them in prison during their lives, that strangers might enjoy their places. The matters objected against Stigand were these. 1 That he had entruded upon the archbishopric whilst Robert the Archb. was in life. 2 That he received his Pall from Benedict the fifth, who for buying the Papacy had been deposed. 3 That he kept the Sea of Winchester in his hands, after his investiture into the Sea of Canterbury. He was otherwise also infamous in life; altogether unlearned, of heavy judgement and understanding, sottishly serviceable both to pleasure and sloth; in covetousness beneath the baseness of rusticity: insomuch as he would often swear, that he had not one penny upon the earth, and yet by a key which he did wear about his neck, great treasures of his were found under the ground. And this was a grief and sickness to honest minds, that such spurious and impure creatures should sustain, or rather distain the reverence and majesty of Religion. Further, the King caused all the Monasteries and Abbeys to be searched, pretending that the richer sort of the English had laid up their money in them: under colour whereof he discovered the state of all, and bereaved many of their own treasure. Some of these Religious houses he appropriated wholly to himself; of divers others he seized the liberties, which they redeemed afterward at a very high and excessive rate. Those Bishoprics and Abbeys which held Baronies, and had been free before from secular subjection, he reduced under the charge of his service; appointing how many Soldiers, and of what sort, they should furnish for him and his successors in the time of their wars. Those strangers which he entertained in pay, he dispersed into Religious houses, and some also among the Nobility, to be maintained at their charge: whereby he not only favoured his own purse, but had them as a watch, and sometimes as a garrison over those, of whose allegiance he stood in doubt. Now against the inferior sort of people, knowing right well that he was generally hated, he prepared these remedies for his estate: All their armour was taken from them, they were crushed down with change of calamity, which held them prostrate under yoke, and broke the very heart of their courage: leaving them no hope to be relieved, no hope to rise into any degree of liberty, but by yielding entire obedience unto him. Those who either resisted or favoured not his first entrance, he bereaved of all means afterward to offend him; holding them down, and keeping them so low, that their very impotency made him secure. All such as had their hand in any rebellion, albeit they were pardoned their lives, lost their livings, and became vassals to those Lords to whom their possessions were given. And if they attained any thing afterward, they held it only at the pleasure of their Lords; at the pleasure of their Lords they might be despoiled. He much condemned the judgement of Swanus the Dane, sometimes King of England, who permitted those whom he had vanquished, to retain their former both authority and estates: whereby it happened, that after his death, the inhabitants were of force to expel the strangers, and to quit themselves both from their society and subjection. Hereupon many severe laws were made; divers of all sorts were put to death, banished, stripped of their wealth, disabled in their bodies by unusual variety of punishments; as putting out the eyes, cutting off the hands and such like: not only to diminish his fears, if they were suspected; but sometimes if they were of wealth, to satisfy therewith either his pleasure or wants. His cruelty made the people rebellious, and their rebellions made him the more cruel; in which case many Innocents' were made the oblations of his ambitious fears. Many heavy taxations were imposed upon them; their ancient Lords were removed, their ancient laws and policies of State were dashed to dust; all lay couched under the conquerors sword, to be newly fashioned by him, as should be best fitting for his advantage. He erected Castles in divers parts of the Realm, of which the Tower near London was the chief, which afterward was increased both in compass and in strength by addition of the outward walls. In these he planted garrisons of Normans, as if it had been in a hostile Country; not without oppression to the people although they remained quiet, and sufficient to suppress them if they should rebel. Thus he secured the Realm against a general defection; as for particular stirs, they might happily molest him, but endanger him they could not. Exeter, Northumberland, and some other parts did rise against him in arms; but being unable to maintain their revolt, their overthrow did much confirm his State. He either imitated or concurred with Caesar in advise: For, as Caesar invaded the Germans which kept the great forest of Ardenna, not with his own Soldiers, but with his aids out of Gallia; gaining thereby victory over the one, and security from the other, without any dispense of the Roman blood: so after the King's great victory against the valiant, but too adventurous King Harold, when many of the English fled into Ireland, and from thence with fresh both courage, and supplies returned into England; commanded by two of Harold's sons; he encountered them only with English forces. In the first conflict the King's party was overthrown, and the valiant leader Ednothus slain, who had been master of the horses to King Harold. In the second his enemies were so defeated, as they were never able to make head again. So the victors being weakened, and the vanquished wasted, the King with pleasure triumphed over both. Likewise when he was occasioned to pass the Seas into Normandy, either to establish affairs of government, or to repress rebellions, which in his absence were many times raised; he drew his forces out of England, and that in a more large proportion then the importance of the service did require. He also took with him the chief men of English blood, as well to use their advise and aid, as also to hold them and their friends from working innovation in his absence. He enclosed the great Forest near unto the Sea in Hamshire, for which he dispeopled villages and towns, about the space of thirty miles, to make a desert for beasts of chase; in which place afterward two of his sons, Richard and William ended their lives; Richard by a fall from his horse, and William by the stroke of an arrow. The King's great delight in hunting was made the pretence of this Forest; but the true end was rather, to make a free place of footing for his Normans and other friends out of France, in case any great revolt should be made. divers other parts of the Realm were so wasted with his wars, that for want both of Husbandry and habitation, a great dearth did ensue▪ whereby many were enforced to eat horses, dogs, cats, rats, and other loathsome and vile vermin: yea, some abstained not from the flesh of men. This famine and desolation did especially rage in the North parts of the Realm. For the inhabitants beyond Humber, fearing the King's secret hate, so much the more deep and deadly because unjust; received without resistance, and perhaps drew in the Army of the King of Sueveland, with whom Edgar Atheling and the other English that fled into Scotland joined their power. The Normans within York fired the suburbs, because it should not be a lodging for their enemies: but the strength of the wind carried the flame into the City, which consumed a great part thereof, with the Minster of S. Peter, and therein a fair Library. And herewith whilst the Normans were partly busied, and partly amazed, the enemies entered, and slew in York, in Duresme, and thereabout, three thousand Normans; among whom were many of eminent dignity, as well for birth, as for place of their charge. But in short time the King came upon them, and having partly by Arms, and partly by gifts dispatched the strangers, exercised upon the English an ancient and assured experience of war, to repress with main force a rebellion in a State newly subdued. Insomuch as all the land between Duresme and York, except only the territory of S. john of Beverlace, lay waste for the space of nine years, without inhabitants to manure the ground. And because conspiracies and associations are commonly contrived in the night, he commanded, that in all Towns and villages a Bell should be rung in the evening at eight of the clock; and that in every house they should then put forth their fire and lights, and go to bed. This custom of ringing a Bell at that hour, in many places is still observed. And for that likeness is a great cause of liking and of love, he enjoined the chief of the English (and these were soon imitated by the rest) to conform themselves to the fashions of Normandy, to which they had made themselves no strangers before. Yea, children in the school were taught their letters and principles of grammar in the Norman language. In their speech, attire, shaving of the beard, service at the Table; in their buildings and household furniture, they altogether resembled the Normans. In the beginning of his reign he ordained that the Laws of King Edward should be observed, together with those Laws which he did prescribe: but afterwards he commanded that 9 men should be chosen out of every shire, to make a true report what were the Laws and customs of the Realm. Of these he changed the greatest part, and brought in the customs of Normandy in their stead: commanding also that causes should be pleaded, and all matters of form dispatched in French. Only he permitted certain Dane-Lawes, (which before were chiefly used in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridge-shire) to be generally observed; as having great affinity with his Norman-customes; both being derived from one common head. Likewise at the great suit of William a Norman then Bishop of London, he granted a Charter of liberty to that City, for enjoying the use of K. Edward's Laws: a memorial of which benefit, the Citizens fixed upon the Bishop's grave, being in the midst of the great West I'll of S. Paul's. Further, by the counsel of Stigand Archb. of Canterbury, and of Eglesine Abbot of S. Augustine's (who at that time were the chief governors of Kent) as the King was riding towards Dover, at Swanescombe two mile from Gravesend, the Kentish men came towards him armed, and bearing boughs in their hands, as if it had been a moving wood; they enclosed him upon the sudden, and with a firm countenance, but words well tempered with modesty and respect, they demanded of him the use of their ancient Liberties and Laws: that in other matters they would yield obedience unto him: that without this they desired not to live. The King was content to strike sail to the storm, and to give them a vain satisfaction for the present; knowing right well, that the general customs & Laws of the residue of the Realm, would in short time overflow these particular places. So pledges being given on both sides, they conducted him to Rochester, and yielded the County of Kent and the Castle of Dover into his power. In former times many Farms and Manors were given by bare word, without writing, only with the sword of the Lord, or his headpiece; with a horn or standing goblet, and many tenements with a quill, with a horse-combe, with a bow, with an arrow; but this sincere simplicity at that time was changed. And whereas Charters and deeds were before made firm by the subscription of the party, with crosses of gold, or of some other colour; then they were firmed by the parties special Seal, set upon wax, under the Teste of three or four witnesses. He ordained also his counsel of State, his Chancery, his Exchequer, his Courts of justice, which always removed with his Court. These places he furnished with Officers, and assigned four Terms in the year for determining controversies among the people: whereas before all suits were summarily heard and determined in the Gemote or monthly convention in every hundred, without either formalities or delay. He caused the whole Realm to be described in a censual Roll, so as there was not one Hide of land, but both the yearly rent and the owner thereof, was therein set down; how many plowlands, what pastures, fens, or marshes; what woods, parks, farms and tenements were in every shire; and what every one was worth. Also how many villains every man had, what beasts or cattle, what fees, what other goods, what rent or commodity his possessions did yield. This book was called The Roll of Winton, because it was kept in the City of Winchester. By the English it was called dooms day book; either by reason of the generality thereof, or else corruptly in stead of Domus Dei book; for that it was laid in the Church of Winchester, in a place called Domus Dei. According to this Roll taxations were imposed; sometimes two shillings, and sometimes six shillings upon every hide of land (a hide containing 20. acres,) besides ordinary provision for his house. In all those lands which he gave to any man, he reserved Dominion in chief to himself: for acknowledgement whereof a yearly rent was paid unto him, and likewise a fine whensoever the Tenant did alien or die. These were bound as Clients unto him by oath of fidelity and homage; And if any died his heir being in minority, the King received the profits of the land, and had the custody and disposing of the heirs body, until his age of one and twenty years. It is reported of Caligula, that when he intended Tranquil. in Calig. to make advantage of his penal Edicts, he caused them to be written in so small letters, and the tables of them to be fastened so high, that it was almost impossible for any man to read them. So the King caused part of those Laws that he established, to be written in the Norman language, which was a barbarous and broken French, not well understood of the natural French, and not at all of the vulgar English. The residue were not written at all, but left almost arbitrary, to be determined by reason and discretion at large. Hereupon it followed, partly through ignorance of the people, and partly through the malice of some officers of justice, who many times are instruments of secret and particular ends; that many were extremely entangled, many endangered, many rather made away, then justly executed. But here it may be questioned, seeing these Laws were laid upon the English, as fetters about their feet, as a ponderous yoke upon their neck, to depress and detain them in sure subjection; how it falleth, that afterward they became not only tolerable, but acceptable and well esteemed. Assuredly, these laws were exceeding harsh and heavy to the English at the first: And therefore K. William Rufus, and Henry the first, at such time as Robert their eldest brother came in arms against them to challenge the crown, being desirous to win the favour of the people, did fill them with fair promises, to abrogate the laws of K. William their father, and to restore to them the Laws of K. Edward. The like was done by K. Stephen, and by K. Henry the second; whilst both contending to draw the State to himself, they did most grievously tear it in pieces. The like by others of the first Kings of the Norman race, whensoever they were willing to give contentment to the people: who desired no other reward for all their adventures and labours, for all their blood spent in the service of their Kings, but to have the Laws of K. Edward restored. At the last the Nobility of the Realm, with great dispense both of their estates and blood, purchased a Charter of liberty, First from K. john, which was soon revoked, as violently enforced from him: afterwards from King Henry the third, which remained in force. And hereby the sharp severity of these laws was much abated. In that afterwards they become, not only tolerable, but easy and sweet, and happily not fit to be changed, it is by force of long grounded custom, whereby those usages which our ancestors have observed for many ages, do never seem either grievous or odious to be endured. So Nicetas writing of certain Christians, who by long conversing with the Turks, had defiled themselves with Turkish fashions, Nicet. pag. 19 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Custom (saith he) winneth such strength by time, that it is more firm than either Nature or Religion. Hereupon Dio. Chrysostome compareth Chrys. orat. 76. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Suid. dict. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Customs to a King, and Edicts to a Tyrant; because we are subject voluntarily to the one, but upon constraint and upon necessity to the Agath. lib. 2. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. other. It is manifest (saith Agathias) that under whatsoever law a people hath lived, they do esteem the same most excellent and divine. Herodotus reporteth, that Darius the son of Hysdaspis, having under his Dominion certain Grecians of Asia, who accustomed to burn their dead parents and friends, and certain nations of India, who used to eat them; called the Grecians before him: and told them that it was his pleasure, that they should conform themselves to the custom of the Indians, in eating their deceased friends. But they applied all means of entreaty and persuasion, that they might not be enforced, to such a barbarous, or rather brutish observation. Then he sent for the Indians, and moved them to conformity with the Grecians; but found that they did far more abhor to burn their dead, than the Grecians did to eat them. Now these severities of the King were much aggravated by the English, and esteemed not far short of cruelties. Not withstanding he tempered it with many admirable actions both of justice and of clemency and mercy: for Temperatus anim tim●…▪ est qui 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉 siduus & 〈◊〉 ad vin●…ctam excitat▪ Sen●…. 1. de clemen. which he is much extolled by the Normane writers. He gave great privileges to many places; & the better to give the people contentment, and to hold them quiet, he often times renewed the oath which first he took at his Coronation: namely, to defend the holy Church of God, the pastors thereof, and the people subject to him justly to govern to ordain good laws, and observe true justice, and to the uttermost of his power to withstand all rapines and false judgements. Such of the nobility as had been taken in rebellion, were only committed to prison; from which they were released in time: such as yielded and submitted themselves, were freely pardoned, and often times received to favour, trust, and imploymemt. Edric, the first that rebelled after he was King, he held near and assured unto him▪ Gospatric who had been a stirrer of great commotions, he made Earl of Gloucester, and employed him against Malcolm King of Scots. Eustace Earl of Boline, who upon occasion of the King's first absence in Normandy attempted to surprise the Castle of Dover, he embraced afterward with great show of love and respect. Waltheof son to Earl Siward, who in defending the City of York against him, had slain many Normans, as they assayed to enter a breach, he joined in marriage to his Niece judeth. Edgar who was the ground and hope of all conspiracies, who after his first submission to the King, fled into Scotland, and maintained open hostility against him, who pretended title to the Crown as next heir to the Saxon Kings, he not only received to favour, but honoured with fair enterteinments. He furnished him to the war of Palestine, where he attained an honourable estimation with the Emperors of Almain and of Greece. After his return he was allowed 20. shillings a day by way of pension, and large livings in the Country, where he mellowed to old age in pleasure and vacancy of affairs; preferring safe subjection, before ambitious rule accompanied both with danger and disquiet. Thus was no man more mild to a relenting and vanquished enemy; as far from cruelty, as he was from cowardice, the height of his spirit, overlooking all casual, all doubtful and uncertain dangers. Other great offenders he punished commonly by exile or imprisonment, seldom by death. Only among the English Nobility Earl Waltheof was put to death, for that after twice breaking allegiance, he conspired the third time with divers both English and Normans to receive the Danes into England, whilst the King was absent in Normandy. And for the same conspiracy Ralph Fitz-aubert a Norman was also executed; who had furnished 40. ships for the King in his voyage for England: for which and for his other services in that war, he was afterward created Earl of Hereford. But present injuries do always overbalance benefits that are past. He much delighted in hunting and in feasting. For the first he enclosed many forests and parks, and filled them with Deer; which he so dearly loved, that he ordained great penalties for such as should kill those or any other beasts of game. For the second he made many sumptuous feasts, especially upon the high Festival days in the year. His Christmas he often kept at Gloucester, his Easter at Winchester, his Whitsuntide at Westminster; and was crowned once in the year at one of these places, so long as he continued in England. To these feasts he invited all his Nobility, and did then principally compose himself to courtesy, as well in familiar conversation, as in facility to grant suits, and to give pardon to such as had offended. At other times he was more Majestical and severe; and employed himself both to much exercise and great moderation in diet; whereby he preserved his body in good state, both of health and strength, and was easily able to endure travail, hunger, heat, cold, and all other hardness both of labour and of want. Many wrongs he would not see, of many smarts he would not complain; he was absolute master of himself, and thereby learned to subdue others. He was much commended for chastity of body; by which his Princely actions were much advanced. And albeit the beginning of his reign was pestered with such routs of outlaws and robbers, that the peaceable people could not account themselves in surety within their own doors; he so well provided for execution of justice upon offenders, or rather for cutting off the causes of offence; that a young maiden well charged with gold, might travail in any part of the Realm, without any offer of injury unto her. For if any man had slain another upon any cause, he was put to death; and if he could not be found, the hundred paid a fine to the King; sometimes 28. and sometimes 36. pounds, according to the largeness of the hundred in extent. If a man had oppressed any woman, he was deprived of his privy parts. As the people by Arms, so Arms by laws were held in restraint. He talked little and bragged less: a most assured performer of his word: In prosecution of his purposes constant and strong, and yet not obstinate; but always appliable to the change of occasions: earnest, yea violent, both to resist his enemies, and to exact duties of his Subjects. He neither loved much speech, nor gave credit to fair; but trusted truly to himself, to others so far as he might not be abused by credulity. His expedition (the spirit of actions and affairs) may hereby appear. He invaded England about the beginning of October; He subdued all resistance, he suppressed all rising Rebellions, and returned into Normandy in March following. So as the time of the year considered, a man should hardly travail through the land in so short a time as he did win it. A greater exploit than julius Caesar or any other stranger could ever achieve upon that place. He gave many testimonies of a Religious mind. For he did often frequent Divine service in the Church, he gave much Alms, he held the Clergy in great estimation, and highly honoured the Prelates of the Church. He sent many costly ornaments, many rich presents of gold and silver to the Church of Rome; his Peter payments went more readily, more largely than ever before. To divers Churches in France after his victory he sent Crosses of gold, vessels of gold, rich Palles, or other ornaments of great beauty and price. He bore such reverence to Lanfranck Archbishop of Canterbury, that he seemed to stand at his directions. At the request of Wolstane Bishop of Worcester, he gave over a great advantage that he made by sale of prisoners taken in Ireland. He respected Aldred Archbishop of York, by whom he had been crowned King of England, as his father. At a time upon the repulse of a certain suit, the Archbishop broke forth into discontentment, expostulated sharply against the King, and in a humorous heat offered to depart. But the King stayed him, fell down at his feet, desired pardon, and promised satisfaction in the best manner that he could. The Nobility that were present, put the Archbishop in mind that he should cause the King to arise. Nay (answered the Archb.) let him alone; Let him still abide at S. Peter's feet. So with much ado he was appeased, and entreated to accept his suit. And so the name of Saint Peter, and of the Church hath been often used as a mantle, to cover the pride, passions and pleasures of disordered men. He founded and enlarged many houses of Religion: He furnished Ecclesiastical dignities, with men of more sufficiency and worth than had been usual in former times. And because within his own Dominions studies did not flourish and thrive, by reason of the turbulent times, by reason of the often invasions of barbarous people, whose knowledge lay chiefly in their fists; he drew out of Italy and other places many famous men, both for learning and integrity of life; to wit, Lanfranke, Anselm, Durand, Traherne and others. These he honoured, these he advanced, to these he expressed great testimonies both of favour and regard. And yet he preferred Odo his brother by the mother's side to the Bishopric of Baion, and afterwards created him Earl of Kent: A man proud, vain, mutinous, ambitious; outrageous in oppression, cruelty and lust; a profaner of Religion, a manifest contemner of all virtue. The King being called by occasions into Normandy, committed unto him the government of the Realm: In which place of credit and command he furnished himself so fully with treasure, that he aspired to the Papacy of Rome: upon a prediction than cast abroad, (which commonly deceive those that trust unto them) that the successor of Hildebrand was named Odo. So filled with proud hopes, he purchased a palace and friends at Rome; he prepared for his journey, and drew many gentlemen to be of his train. But the King returning suddenly out of Normandy, met with him in the Isle of Wight, as he was ready to take the Seas. There he was arrested, and afterwards charged with infinite oppressions; also for seducing the King's subjects to forsake the Realm; and lastly, for sacrilegious spoiling of many Churches. Hereupon his treasure was seized, and he was committed to prison; not as Bishop of Baion, but as Earl of Kent, and as an accountant to the King. And so he remained about four years, even until the death of the King. His servants, some in falsehood, and some for fear, discovered such hidden heaps of his gold, as did exceed all expectation: yea, many bags of grinded gold were drawn out of rivers, wherein the Bishop had caused them for a time to be buried. After this he was called the King's sponge: as being preferred by him to that place of charge, wherein he might in long time suck that from others, which should at once be pressed from himself. By this means the King had the benefit of his oppression without the blame; and the people (being no deep searchers into secrets of State) were so well pleased with the present punishment, as they were thereby, although not satisfied, yet well quieted for all their wrongs. Towards the end of his reign he appointed his two sons, Robert and Henry, with joint authority, governors of Normandy; the one to suppress either the insolency, or levity of the other. These went together to visit the French King, lying at Conflance: where entertaining the time with variety of disports, Henry played with Lovis then Dauphin of France at Chess, and did win of him very much. Hereat Lovis began to grow warm in words, and was therein little respected by Henry. The great impatiency of the one, and the small forbearance of the other, did strike in the end such a heat between them, that Lovis threw the Chesse-men at Henry's face, and called him the son of a bastard. Henry again stroke Lovis with the Chessboard, drew blood with the blow, and had presently slain him upon the place, had he not been stayed by his brother Robert. Hereupon they presently went to horse, and their spurs claimed so good haste, as they recovered Pontoife, albeit they were sharply pursued by the French. It had been much for the French King to have remained quiet, albeit no provocations had happened, in regard of his pretence to many pieces which King William did possess in France. But upon this occasion he presently invaded Normandy, took the City of Vernon, and drew Robert, King William's eldest son, to combine with him against his own father. On the other side King William, who never lost any thing by losing of time, with incredible celerity passed into France; invaded the French Kings dominions, wasted and took many principal places of Zantoigne and Poictou, returned to Rouen, and there reconciled his son Robert unto him. The French King summoned him to do his homage for the kingdom of England. For the Duchy of Normandy he offered him homage, but the kingdom of England (he said) he held of no man, but only of God, and by his sword. Hereupon the French King came strongly upon him; but finding him both ready and resolute to answer in the field: finding also that his hazard was greater than his hope; that his loss by overthrow would far surmount his advantage by victory; after a few light encounters he retired: preferring the care to preserve himself, before the desire to harm others. King William being then both corpulent and in years, was distempered in body by means of those travails, and so retired to Rouen; where he remained not perfectly in health. The French King hearing of his sickness, pleasantly said, that he lay in childbed of his great belly. This would have been taken in mirth, if some other had spoken it; but coming from an enemy, it was taken in scorn. And as great personages are most sensible of reproach, and the least touch of honour maketh a wide and incurable wound; so King William was so nettled with this jest, that he swore By God's resurrection and his brightness, (for this was the usual form of his oath) that so soon as he should be churched of that child, he would offer a thousand lights in France. So presently after his recovery he entered France in arms, took the City of Meux, set many Towns and Villages and corn fields on fire; the people abandoning all places where he came, and giving forth, that it was better the nests should be destroyed, then that the birds should be taken in them. At the last he came before Paris, where Philip King of France did then abide: to whom he sent word, that he had recovered to be on foot, and was walking about, and would be glad likewise to find him abroad. This enterprise was acted in the month of August, wherein the King was so violent and sharp, that by reason both of his travail, and of the unseasonable heat, he fell into a relapse of his sickness. And to accomplish his mishap, in leaping on horseback over a ditch, his fat belly did bear so hard upon the pommel of his saddle, that he took a rupture in his inner parts. And so overcharged with sickness, and pain, and disquietness of mind, he returned to Rouen; where his sickness increased by such dangerous degrees, that in short time it led him to the period of his days. During the time of his sickness he was Perfecto 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 scel●…re, magnitudo eius intelligitur. Tacit. xv. Annal. much molested in conscience, for the blood which he had spilled, and for the severity which he had used against the English: holding himself for that cause more guilty before God, then glorious among men. He spent many good speeches in reconciling himself to God and the world, & in exhorting others to virtue and Religion. He gave great sums of money to the Clergy of Meux, and of some other places in France, to repair the Churches which a little before he had defaced. To some Monasteries he gave ten marks of gold, and to others six. To every Parish Church he gave five shillings, and to every Borough Town a hundred pounds for relief of the poor. He gave his Crown, with all the ornaments thereto belonging, to the Church of Saint Stephen in Caen, which he had founded: for redeeming whereof, King Henry the first did afterwards give to the same Church the Manor of Brideton in Dorcetshire. He retained perfect memory and speech so long as he retained any breath. He ended his life upon the ninth day of September: full both of honour and of age, when he had reigned twenty years, eight months and sixteen days; in the threescore and fourth year of his age. So soon as he was dead, the chief men that were about him went to horse, and departed forthwith to their own dwellings: to provide for the safety of themselves, and of their families and estates. For all men were possessed with a marvelous fear, that some dangerous adventures would ensue. The servants and inferior Officers also fled away; and to double the baseness of their disposition, took with them whatsoever was portable about the king; his Armour, plate, apparel, householdstuff, all things were held as lawful booty. Thus the dead body was not only abandoned, but left almost naked upon the ground: where it remained from prime until three of the clock, neither guarded nor regarded by any man. In the mean time the Religious persons went in procession to the Church of S. Gervase, & there commended his soul to God. Then William Archb. of Rouen commanded, that his body should be carried to Caen, to be there buried in the Church of S. Stephen. But he was so forsaken of all his followers, that there was not any found who would undertake either the care or the charge. At the last Herlwine a country Knight, upon his own cost, caused the body to be embalmed and adorned for funeral pomp: then conveyed it by coach to the mouth of the River Some; and so partly by land, and partly by sea brought it to Caen. Here the Abbot with the Covent of Monks came forth with all accustomed ceremonies, to meet the corpse: to whom the whole multitude of the Clergy and Lay-people did adjoin. But when they were in the midst of their sad solemnities, a fire broke out of a certain house, and suddenly embraced a great part of the town. Hereupon the King's body was once again abandoned; all the people running from it in a headlong haste; some to save their goods, others to repress the rage of the flame, others (as the latest novelty) to stand and look on. In the end a few Monks returned, and accompanied the Hearse to the Abbey Church. Afterward all the Bishops and Abbots of Normandy assembled to solemnize the funeral. And when the divine Office was ended, and the coffin of stone set into the earth, in the presbytorie, between the Choir and the Altar (but the body remained upon the Hearse) Guislebert bishop of Eureux made a long Sermon; wherein he bestowed much breath in extolling the honourable actions of the King. In the end he concluded; That forsomuch as it was impossible for a man to live, much less to govern, without offence; First, by reason of the multitude of a Prince's affairs▪ Secondly, for that he must commit the managing of many things to the conscience and courtesy of others; Lastly, for that personal grievances are many times beneficial to the main body of State; in which case, particular either losses or harms, are more than manifoldly recompensed by the preservation or quiet of the whole: If therefore any that were present did suppose they had received injury from the King, he desired that they would in charity forgive him. When the Bishop had finished his speech, one Anselm Fitz-Arthur stood up amongst the multitude, and with a high voice said; This ground whereupon we stand, was sometimes the floor of my father's house; which that man of whom you have spoken, when he was Duke of Normandy, took violently from my father, and afterward founded thereon this Religious building. This injustice he did not by ignorance or oversight; not upon any necessity of State; but to content his own covetous desire. Now therefore I do challenge this ground as my right; and do here charge you, as you will answer it before the fearful face of Almighty God, that the body of the spoiler be not covered with the earth of mine inheritance. When the Bishops and Noble men that were present heard this, and understood by the testimony of many that it was true, they agreed to give him three pounds presently for the ground that was broken for the place of burial; and for the residue which he claimed, they undertook he should be fully satisfied. This promise was performed in short time after, by Henry the King's son, who only was present at the Funeral; at whose appointment Fitz-Arthur received for the price of the same ground one hundred pounds. Now when the body was to be put into the earth, the sepulchre of stone which stood within the grave, was hewn somewhat too straight for his fat belly; whereupon they were constrained to press it down with much strength. By this violence, whether his bowels burst, or whether some excrements were forced out at their natural passage, such an intolerable stink proceeded from him, as neither the perfumes that smoked in great abundance, nor any other means were able to qualify. Wherefore the Priests hasted to finish their office, and the people departed in a sad silence; discoursing diversly afterward of all these extraordinary accidents. A man would think that a sepulchre thus hardly attained, should not easily again be lost. But it happened otherwise to this unquiet King; not destined to rest, either in his life or after his death. For in the year 1562. when Castilion took the City of Caen, with those broken troops that escaped at the battle of Dreux; certain savage Soldiers of divers nations, led by four dissolute Captains, beat down the Monument which King William his son had built over him, and both curiously and richly adorned with gold & costly stones. Then they opened his Tomb, & not finding the treasure which they expected, they threw forth his bones with very great derision & despite. Many English soldiers were then in the Town, who were very curious to gather his bones; whereof some were afterwards brought into England. Hereby the report is convinced for vain, that his body was found uncorrupt, more than four hundred years after it was buried. Hereby also it is found to be false, that his body was eight foot in length. For neither were his bones proportionable to that stature, (as it is testified by those who saw them) and it is otherwise reported of him by some who lived in his time; namely, that he was of a good stature, yet not exceeding the ordinary proportion of men. And this was the last end of all his fortunes, of all that was mortal in him besides his fame: whose life is too much extolled by the Normans, and no less extenuated by the English. Verily, he was a very great Prince: full of hope to undertake great enterprises, full of courage to achieve them: in most of his actions commendable, and excusable in all. And this was not the least piece of his Honour, that the Kings of England which succeeded, did account their order only from him: not in regard of his victory in England, but generally in respect of his virtue and valour. For his entrance was not by way of conquest, but with pretence of title to the Crown: wherein he had both allowance and aid from divers Christian Princes in Europe. He had also his party within the Realm, by whose means he prevailed against the opposite faction▪ (as Caesar did against Pompey) and not against the entire strength of the State. Again, he did not settle himself in the chair of Sovereignty, as one that had reduced all things to the proud power and pleasure of a Conqueror, but as an universal successor of former Kings, in all the rights and privileges which they did enjoy. He was received for King by general consent; He was crowned with all Ceremonies and Solemnities then in use; He took an oath in the presence of the Clergy, the Nobility, and of much people, for defence of the Church, for moderate and careful government, and for upright administration of justice. Lastly, during the whole course of his government, the kingdom received no universal change, no loss or diminution of honour. For, neither were the old inhabitants expelled, as were the Britain's; neither was the kingdom either subjecteth or annexed to a greater: but rather it received increase of honour, in that a less State was adjoined unto it. The change of customs was not violent and at once, but by degrees, and with the silent approbation of the English; who have always been inclinable to accommodate themselves to the fashions of France. The grievances and oppressions were particular, and with some appearance either of justice, or of necessity for the common quiet; such as are not unusual in any government moderately severe. So the change was chiefly in the stem and family of the King: which whether it be wrought by one of the same nation (as it was in France by Pepine and Capett) or by a stranger, (as in the same Country by Henry 5. and Henry 6. Kings of England) it bringeth no disparagement in honour; it worketh no essential change. The State still remained the same, the solid body of the State remained still English: the coming in of many Normans, was but as Rivers falling into the Ocean; which change not the Ocean, but are confounded with the waters thereof. This King had by his wife Matild, daughter to Baldwine Earl of Flanders, four sons; Robert, Richard, William and Henry: He had also five daughters; Cicely, Constance, Adela, Margaret and Elinor. Robert his eldest son surnamed Courtcuise, by reason of the shortness of his thighs, succeeded him in the duchy of Normandy. He was a man of exceeding honourable courage and spirit, for which cause he was so esteemed by the Christian Princes in the great war against the Saracens, that when they had subdued the City and territory of Jerusalem, they offered the kingdom thereof first unto him. Yet afterwards, either by the malice of his Fortune, or for that he was both sudden and obstinate in his own advise (two great impediments that valour cannot thrive) he received many foils of his enemies, which shall be declared in their proper place. Before the King made his descent into England, he gave the duchy of Normandy unto him: but whether he did this only to testify his confidence, or whether afterwards his purpose changed, being often demanded to perform this gift, he would neither deny nor accomplish his word, but enterposed many excuses and delays; affirming that he was not so surely settled in England, but the duchy of Normandy was necessary unto him, both for supply for his services (which he found like Hydra's heads to multiply by cutting off) and also for an assured place for retreat, in case he should be overcharged with extremities. Hereupon Robert unable to linger and pine in hopes, declared openly against him in arms. Philip King of France was ready to put fuel to the flame; who as he never favoured in his own judgement the prosperous increases of the King of England, so than he was vigilant to embrace all occasions, either to abate or limit the same. And thus Robert both encouraged and enabled by the King of France, invaded Normandy, and permitted his soldiers licentiously to waste; to satisfy those by spoil, which by pay he was not able to maintain. At the last he encountered the King his father in a sharp conflict, before the castle of Gerberie, wherein the King was unhorsed and wounded in the arm; his second son William was also hurt, and many of his soldiers slain. And albeit Robert so soon as he knew his father by his voice, alighted forthwith, mounted him upon his own horse, and withdrew him out of the medley; yet did he cast upon his son a cruel curse, which lay so heavy upon him, that he never prospered afterward in any thing which he undertook. And although after this he was reconciled to his father, and employed by him in services of credit and weight, yet did the King often bewray of him an unquiet conceit, often did he ominate evil unto him: yea, a little before his death he openly gave forth, That it was a miserable Country which should be subject to his dominion, for that he was a proud and foolish knave, and to be long scourged by cruel Fortune. Richard had erected the good expectation of many, as well by his comely countenance and behaviour, as by his lively and generous spirit. But he died young by misadventure, as he was hunting within the New-forrest, before he had made experiment of his worth. Some affirm that he was gored to death by the Dear of that Forest, for whose walk his father had dispeopled that large compass of ground: others report, that as he road in chase, he was hanged upon the bow of a tree by the chaps: others more probably do write, that he perished by a fall from his horse. He was buried at Winchester with this inscription: Hic jacet Richardus filius Wilielmi senioris Berniae Dux. William did succeed next to his father in the Kingdom of England. To Henry, the King gave at the time of his death five thousand pounds out of his treasure; but gave him neither dignity nor lands: foretelling, that he should enjoy the honour of both his brothers in time, and far excel them both in dominion and power. Whether this was devised upon event; or whether some do prophesy at their death; or whether it was coniecturally spoken; or whether to give contentment for the present; it fell out afterward to be true. For he succeeded William in the Kingdom of England, and wrested Normandy out of the possession of Robert. Of these two I shall write more fully hereafter. His daughter Cicelie was Abbess of Caen in Normandy. Constance was married to Allen Fergant Earl of Britain. Adela was wife to Stephen Earl of Blois, to whom she bore Stephen, who after the death of Henry was King of England. Margaret was promised in marriage to Harold; she died before he attained the Kingdom, for which cause he held himself discharged of that oath which he had made to the Duke her father. Elinor was betrothed to Alphonso King of Gallicia; but she desired much to die a Virgin: for this she daily prayed, and this in the end she did obtain. After her death her knees appeared brawny and hard, with much kneeling at her devotions. Assuredly it will be hard to find in any one Family, both greater Valour in sons, and more Virtue in daughters. In the beginning of this King's reign, either no great accidents did fall, or else they were obscured with the greatness of the change: none are reported by the writers of that time. In the fourth year of his reign, Lanfranke Abbot of Caen in Normandy, but borne in Pavia, a City of Lombardy, was made Archbishop of Canterbury: And Thomas a Norman, and Cannon of Bayon was placed in the Sea of York. Between these two a controversy did arise at the time of their consecration, for priority in place: but this contention was quieted by the King, and Thomas for the time subscribed obedience to the Archb. of Canterbury. After this they went to Rome for their Palles; where the question for Primacy was again renewed, or, as some affirm, first moved before Pope Alexander. The Pope used them both with honourable respect, and especially Lanfrank, to whom he gave two Palles, one of honour, and the other of love: but their controversy he referred to be determined in England. About two years after it was brought before the King and the Clergy at Windsor. The Archbishop of York alleged, that when the Britaines received the Christian faith, in the time of Lucius their King▪ Eleutherius then Bishop of Rome, sent Faganus and Damianus unto them, who ordained 28. Bishops, and two Archbishops within the Realm, one of London, and the other of York. Under these the Church of Britain was governed almost three hundred years, until they were subdued by the Saxons. The Saxons remained Infidels until Gregory Bishop of Rome sent Augustine unto them. By his preaching Ethelbert King of Kent was first converted to the Christian faith: By reason whereof Augustine was made Archbishop of Dover, by appointment of Pope Gregory; who sent unto him certain Palles with his letter from Rome. By this letter it is evident, that Gregory intended to reduce the Church of the Saxons to the same order wherein it was among the Britain's; namely, to be under twelve Bishops and two Archbishops; one of London and the other of York. Indeed he gave to Augustine during his life, authority and jurisdiction over all Bishops and Priests in England: but after his decease he joineth these two metropolitans in equal degree, to constitute Bishops, to oversee the Church, to consult and dispose of such things as appertain to the government thereof, as in former times among the Britain's. Between these he put no distinction in honour, but only as they were in priority of time: and as he appointeth London to be consecrated by no Bishop, but of his own Synod, so he expresseth, that the Bishop of York should not be subject to the Bishop of London. And albeit Augustine for the reason before mentioned, translated the Sea from London to Dover, yet if Gregory had intended to give the same authority to the successors of Augustine which he gave unto him, he would have expressed it in his Epistle: but in that he maketh no mention of his successors, he concludeth, or rather excludeth them by his silence. The Archbishop of Canterbury alleged, that from the time of Augustine, until the time of Bede, (which was about 140. years) the Bishops of Canterbury (which in ancient time (said he) was called Dover) had the Primacy over the whole land of Britain, and of Ireland; that they did call the Bishops of York to their Counsels, which divers times they kept within the Province of York; that some Bishops of York they did constitute, some excommunicate, and some remove. He alleged also divers privileges granted by Princes for the Primacy of that Sea; divers granted from the Apostolic Sea to confirm this dignity in the successors of Augustine: that it is reason to receive directions of well living, from whence we first received directions of right believing; & therefore as the Bishop of Canterbury was subject to the Bishop of Rome, because he had his faith from thence; for the very same cause the Bishop of York should be in subjection to the Bishop of Canterbury: that like as the Lord said that to all the Bishops of Rome, which he said to S. Peter; so that which Gregory said to Augustine, he said likewise to all his successors. And whereas much is spoken of the Bishop of London, what is that to the Archbishop of Canterbury? For, neither is it certain that Augustine was ever resident at London, neither that Gregory appointed him so to be. In the end it was decreed, That York for that time should be subject to Canterbury; that wheresoever within England the Archbishop of Canterbury should hold his Council, the Archbishop of York should come unto it, with the Bishops of his Province, and be obedient to his decrees: that when the Archbishop of Canterbury should decease, the Archbishop of York should go to Canterbury, to consecrate him that should succeed: that if the Archbishop of York should decease, his successor should go to Canterbury, or to such place as the Archbishop of Canterbury should appoint, there to receive his Consecration, making first his oath of Canonical obedience. And thus was the contention for this first time taken up; but in succeeding times it was often renewed, and much busied the Clergy of the Realm. In the ninth year of the reign of King William a Council was holden at London, where another matter of like quality and nature was decreed: namely, that Bishops should translate their Sees from villages to Cities; whereupon in short time after, Bishops Sees were removed, from Selese to Chichester, from Cornwall to Exeter, from Wells to Bath, from Shirbourne to Salisbury, from Dorcester to Lincoln, from Lichfield to Chester, and from thence again to Coventree. And albeit the Archbishop of York did oppose against the erecting of a Cathedral Church in Lincoln, because he challenged that City to be of his Province; yet Remigius Bishop of Dorchester, being strong both in resolution and in friends, did prosecute his purpose to effect. Not long before the Bishopric of Lindafferne otherwise called Holy land, upon the river Tweed, had been translated to Durhame. In the tenth year of his reign the cold of Winter was exceeding memorable, both for sharpness and for continuance: For the earth remained hard frozen from the beginning of November, until the midst of April then ensuing. In the 15. year a great earthquake happened in the month of April; strange for the strong trembling of the earth, but more strange for the doleful and hideous roaring which it yielded forth. In the 20. year there fell such abundance of rain, that the Rivers did greatly overflow in all parts of the Realm. The springs also rising plentifully in divers hills, so softened and decayed the foundations of them, that they fell down, whereby some villages were overthrown. By this distemperature of weather much cattle perished, much corneupon the ground was either destroyed, or greatly impaired. here-hence ensued, first a famine, and afterwards a miserable mortality of men. And that all the Elements might seem to have conspired the calamity of the Realm, the same year most of the principal Cities in England were lamentably deformed with fire. At London a fire began at the entry of the West gate, which apprehending certain shops and Warehouses, wherein was Merchandise apt to burn, it was at once begun and suddenly at the highest. Then being carried with a strong wind, and the City apt to maintain the flame, as well by reason of the crooked and narrow streets, as for that the buildings at that time had open and wide windows, and were covered with base matter fit to take fire, the mischief spread more swiftly than the remedies could follow. So it raged until it came to the Eastgate, prostrated houses and Churches all the way, being the most grievous that ever as yet hath happened to that City. The Church of S. Paul was at that time fired▪ Whereupon Maurice then Bishop of London, began the foundation of the new Church of S. Paul. A work so admirable, that many did judge, it would never have been finished; yet all might easily esteem thereby his magnanimity, his high erected hopes, his generous love and honour to Religion. The King gave towards the building of the East end of this Church, the choice stones of his Castle at the West end of the City, upon the bank of the River Thames; which Castle at the same time was also fired: in place whereof Edward Killwarby Archbishop of Canterbury did afterwards found a Monastery of black Friars. The King also gave the Castle of Storford, and all the lands which thereto belonged, to the same Maurice, and to his successors in that See. And doubtless nothing more than either parsimonious or profane expending the Treasures of the Church, hath since those times much dried up those fountains which first did fill them. After the death of Maurice, Richard his next Successor, as well in virtue as in dignity, bestowed all the Rents rising out of this Bishopric, to advance the building of this Church; maintaining himself by his Patrimony and friends: and yet all which he could do, made no great show: so that the finishing of this work was left to many other succeeeding Bishops. He purchased the ground about the Church whereupon many buildings did stand, and enclosed the same with a strong wall of stone for a place of burial. It seemeth that this wall was afterwards either battered and torn in some civil wars, or else by negligence suffered to decay: for that a grant was made by King Edward the second, that the Churchyard of Saint Paul's should be enclosed with a wall, because of the robberies and murders that were there committed. Many parts of this wall remain at this time, on both sides of the Church, but covered for the most part with dwelling houses. The same year in Whitsun-weeke, the King honoured his son Henry with the order of Knighthood. What Ceremonies the King then used it is not certainly known: but before his time the custom among the Saxons was thus. First, he who should receive the order of Knighthood, con●…essed himself in the evening to a Priest. Then he continued all that night in the Church, watching and applying himself to his private devotions. The next morning he heard Mass, and offered his sword upon the Altar. After the Gospel was read, the sword was hallowed, and with a benediction put about his neck. Lastly, he communicated the mysteries of the blessed body of Christ, and from that time remained a lawful Soldier or Knight. This custom of Consecrating Knights the Normans did not only abrogate, but abhor; not for any evil that was therein, but because it was not altogether their own. This year in a Province of Wales called Rosse, the Sepulchre of Wawyn, otherwise called Gawen, was found upon the Sea shore. He was sisters son to Arthur the great King of the Britain's; a man famous in our Britain Histories, both for civil courtesy, and for courage in the field. I cannot but esteem the report for fabulous, that his body was fourteen foot in length. I do rather conjecture that one credulous writer did take that for the length of his body, which happily might be the length of his ●…ombe. It is constantly affirmed that the ground whereon the English and the Normans did combat, doth show after every rain manifest marks of blood upon the grass: which if it was not a propriety of the soil before, it is hard now to assign, either from what natural cause it doth proceed, or what it should supernaturally portend. K. WILLIAM THE SECOND, surnamed RUFUS. KIng WILLIAM the Victor when he drew towards the end of his days, commended the Kingdom of England to his second son William: with many blessings, with many admonitions, with many prayers for the prosperous success of his succession. And because the presence of the next successor is of greatest moment to establish affairs, the King a little before his passage to death, dispatched him into England, with letters under his own Seal to Lanfranck then Archbishop of Canterbury: a man highly esteemed in foreign Countries, but with the Clergy and vulgar people of the Realm, his authority was absolute. In these letters the King expressed great affection and care towards his son William; commending him with many kind words, for his sufficiencies, for divers virtues; especially for that he did always stand firmly by him, always declare himself both a faithful Subject and dutiful son. It was also conjectured by some, that the King was guided in this choice, no less by his judgement, then by his affection: for that he esteemed the fierce disposition of his son William more fit to govern a people not well settled in subjection, than the flexible and mild nature of his eldest son Robert. So William taking his last leave of his father, who was then taking his last leave of this world, journeyed towards England; and in short time arrived at the port called Whitesand, where he received the first report of his father's death. Hereupon with all speed he posted to Lanfranck, delivered his father's letters, and forthwith was declared King, upon the 9 day of September, in the year 1087. and upon the first of October next ensuing was by the same Lanfranck, with all ceremonies and solemnities pertaining to that action, crowned at Westminster. Robert, either by negligence and want of foresight, or by the perpetual malice of his destiny, or happily not without his father's contrivance, was absent in Germany, whilst his younger brother William did thus possess himself, both of the Kingdom of his father, and of his treasure. Otherwise he wanted neither pretence, nor purpose, nor favour of friends to have impeached his brothers proceedings. For it was then doubted by many, and since hath been by many debated; whether in any case, upon any cause or consideration whatsoever, a King hath power to disinherit his eldest son, and to appoint another to succeed in his estate. That a King may advance any of his sons to be his successor, without respect of priority in birth, there seemeth to want neither warrant of example, nor weight of authority. David a man greatly proved and approved 3. 〈◊〉 by God, did prefer Solomon to succeed him, before his eldest son Adonia. And in like sort Rehoboam the son of Solomon, appointed 2. 〈◊〉 the youngest of all his sons to succeed him in the Kingdom. So some Lawyers affirm, Ba●…d, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 11. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 7. § item 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That a King may determine in his life, which of his sons shall reign after him. But this must be understood, either when a State is newly raised to the title of a kingdom, or else when by Conquest, Usurpation, or some other means of change, the government thereof is newly transferred from one stem to another: For then because there is no certain Law or Custom of succession in force, the right seemeth to d●…pend upon the disposition of the Prince. And yet even in this case, the eldest or nearest cannot be excluded without just cause. For so when jacob deprived his Gen. 49. eldest son Reuben of his privilege of birth, he expressed the cause, For that he had defiled his father's bed; which fact of his Hierome applieth to the case in question. So when Ptolemie ●…ust. lib. 16. the first King of Egypt commended the State to his youngest son, he yielded a reason for that which he did. So Henry the fourth Emperor, crowned Henry his younger son King, rejecting Conrade his eldest son, for that he had borne arms against him, and joined in league with his open enemies. But when by express Law or long grounded Custom the Succession of a State is established to the eldest son, the best approved interpreters of the Canon and Civil law do Host. I●…. An●… Collect. Pet. Anch. 〈◊〉 Imo. Card. F●… & fere 〈◊〉nes in c. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Voto. conclude, that the father hath no power to invert or pervert that course of order. For parents may debar their children of that which proceedeth from themselves, of that which dependeth upon their appointment; but of that L. si arrogato●… D. de Arrog▪ l. 3 de interred▪ 〈◊〉. which is due by nature, by the immutable law of the State, the parents can have no power to dispose. When by a fundamental Law or Custom of State, Succession is annexed to the dignity of a Crown, according to priority in birth, it followeth, that so soon as the first Io. And. in ●…. significasti de 〈◊〉 comp. Pan. cons. 85. li. 1. Molin▪ consuet. Paris. tit. 1. § 85. gl▪ q. q 2. in fi. borne cometh into light, the right of succession is fixed in him; not in hope only, but also in habit; whereof neither the father nor any other can dispossess him. And therefore when Prusias intended to just. lib. 34 deprive his eldest son Nicomedes of his prerogative of birth, and to prefer his younger sons, which he had by another wife, in succession before him, he could not assure it by any means, but by determining the death of Nicomedes; which Nicomedes to prevent, despoiled his father both of kingdom and of life. Ptolemie the first King of Egypt of that name, just. lib. 〈◊〉 who after the death of Alexander the great possessed himself of Egypt, & part of Arabia, and of Africa, left his kingdom to the youngest of his sons: but afterward when Ptolemie, surnamed Pausan. lib. 1. justin, lib▪ 39 Phiscon, upon the importunity of his wife Cleopatra, attempted the like, the kingdom being then settled in succession, the people opposed, & reversed his order after his death. So Pepine Glra●…d. lib. 1. de l'estate. after he had made seizure of the kingdom of France, & ordered all things which he thought necessary for the surety thereof, disposed the succession therein by his Testament; leaving the Realm of Noion to his son Charles, and to Carloman his other son the Realm of Soissons. The like was done by some other of the first Kings of his race. But since that time the custom hath been strongly established, that the kingdom passeth entirely to the eldest son, and possessions are assigned to the rest under the name of Appanage. And therefore the D. Benedict. in ●…ep. c. Rainutius Ver●…. in eodem t●…stamento le. 1. 〈◊〉. 209. French writers affirm, that the eldest son of France cannot be deprived of succession, upon any cause of ingratitude against his parents; and that if the King should institute his eldest Io. d●… terr. 〈◊〉. concl. 9 10. 11. 12. son, yet cannot he take the kingdom by force of his father's gift, but only by the immutable law of the Realm. Yea, Girard writeth of Charl●● the simple, that he was King of Li. 1 de 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 de France. France before he was borne. And in this regard the Glossographer upon the Decrees noteth, In c. vl●…. ●…4. ●…. that the son of a King may be called King during the life of his father, as wanting nothing but administration. And the same also doth Servius note out of Virgil, where he saith of Aescanius: regémque requirunt, his father Aeneas being then alive. Now then, for that the right of Succession to the Crown of England was not at that time so surely settled as it hath been since; but had waved in long uncertainty: First, in the Heptarchy of the Saxons and English, afterward between the English and the Danes, and was then newly possessed by the Normane, and that chiefly by the sword: For that also Robert the King's eldest son gave just cause of offence, by bearing arms against his father; it may seem that the King might lawfully direct the succession to his second son. And yet, because as Herodotus saith, It is a general custom amongst In Polybiu●…. all men, that the first in birth is next in succession; because as Baldus affirmeth, Semper L. ex hoc D. 〈◊〉 just. & 〈◊〉 fuit, & semper erit, etc. Always it hath been, and always it shall be, that the first borne succeed in a kingdom; because as S. Hierome writeth, In Epist. ad O●…agr. & in gen. 49. Chrys. hom. 5. advers. judaeos. A kingdom is due unto the first borne; and as S. Chrysostome saith, The first borne is to be esteemed more honourable than the rest; whereupon Glo. Pan. in. c. 1 de cens. Luc. Pen. in l. decurio. c. de decu. lib. 10. divers Lawyers observe, that the word Senior is often times taken for a Lord. Lastly, because this precedency both in honour, and in right seemeth to be the Law of all nations, derived from the Law of Nature, and expressly either instituted or approved by the voice of God: First, where he said to Cain of his younger Gen. 4. ●…. brother Abel; His desires shall be subject to thee, and thou shalt have dominion over him: Secondly, where he forbiddeth the father to disinherit Deut. 21. 17. the first son of his double portion, because by right of birth it is due unto him: Lastly, where he maketh choice of the first borne to be sanctified and consecrated to himself; it Exo. 13. & 22. & 34. Leuit. 27. Num. 3. & 8. & 18. Neh. 10. Eze●…h 44. Luc. 2. 23. hath almost never happened that this order hath been broken, that the nearest have been excluded from Succession in State, but it hath been followed with tragical events. Yea, albeit the eldest son be unfit to bear rule, albeit he be unable to govern either others or himself; as if he be in a high degree furious, or foolish, or otherwise defective in body or in mind, (unless he degenerate from human condition) yet can he not therefore Io. ●…gn. in. 〈◊〉, An. Rex Fra●…▪ c●…ae recognos●…at superior●…m. 〈◊〉▪ 28. Ang. in l▪ come Praetor § non autem. D▪ de judi. jas. ●…n l. nemo D. de leg. 1. be excluded from succession: because it is due unto him, not in respect of ability, but by reason of his priority of birth. As for the kingdom, it shall better be preserved by the government of a Protector (as in divers like causes it is both usual and fit) then by receiving another Prince: L. 1. c. the tu●…▪ vel. cur. Illust●…▪ c. grand●…. de sup. negl. 〈◊〉. as well for other respects, as for that by cutting off continuance in the Royal descent, by interrupting the settled order of government, by making a breach in so high a point of State, opportunity is opened both for domestical disturbances, and for invasions from abroad: whereupon greater inconveniences do usually ensue, than did ever fall by insufficiency of a Prince. For if these pretences may be allowed for good, what aspiring Subject, what encroaching enemy, finding themselves furnished with means, will not be ready to rise into ambitious hopes? Gabriel the younger brother of the house of Saluse, kept his eldest brother in prison, usurped his estate, giving forth to the people that he was mad. And seldom hath any usurpation happened, but upon pretence of insufficiency in government. Assuredly, if these principal points of Principality be not punctually observed, the joints of a State are loosened, the foundation is shaken, the gates are opened for all disorders, to rise up, to rush in, to prosper, to prevail. Hereupon Medon the eldest son of Codrus, Herod●…n Terpsych. albeit he was lame and otherwise defective, was by sentence of the Oracle of Apollo preferred to succeed his father in the kingdom of Athens, before Neleus his younger brother. So when Alexandrides King of Sparta lest two Herod. ibidem Pausan. lib. 7. sons, Cleomenes the eldest, distracted in wits, and Doricus the youngest, both able and inclined to all actions of honour; the Spartans' acknowledged Cleomenes for their King. Agisilaus the famous King of Sparta was also lame, as Plutarch and Prob. Aemilius do report; Orosius Plut. Aemil. in eius vita. Oros. lib. 3. cap. 2. saith, that the Spartans' did rather choose to have their King halt, than their Kingdom. And therefore when Lisander moved them to Plut. in Lisandr. decree, that the worthiest and not always the next in blood of the line of Hercules should reign, he found no man to second his advise. Aristobulus and Hircanus after a long and cruel joseph. Ant. 14. cap. 1. contention for the Kingdom of jewrie, committed their controversy to the arbitrement of Pompey: Hircanus alleged, that he was the eldest brother; Aristobulus objected, that Hircanus was insufficient to govern: but Pompey gave judgement for Hircanus. The like judgement did Annibal give for the kingdom Liu. lib. ●…▪ ●…▪ belli Pun●…. ●…. of that Country which is now called Savoy; restoring Brancus to his State, from Allobrog●…. which he had been expelled by his younger brother. And although Phirrus did appoint that Plut. in e●…u, vita. son to succeed, whose sword had the best edge, yet was the eldest acknowledged, who bore the least reputation for valour. Ladislaus King of Hungary left by his brother Mich. Ricci●…. Geysa two Nephews; Colomannus the eldest, who was lame, bunch-backed, crab-faced, blunt-sighted, blear-eyed, a dwarf, a stammerer, and (which is more) a Priest; and Almus the youngest, a man of comely presence, and furnished with many princely virtues: In regard of these natural prerogatives Ladislaus appointed Almus to succeed; but in regard of the prerogative in blood, the Hungarians received Colomamnus Cons. 20. 〈◊〉▪ ●…. for their King. Barbatius writeth, that Galeace Duke of Milane did oft times express his grief, for that he could not prefer in succession Philip Maria his youngest son, before john his eldest; for that he seemed the most sufficient to De l' estate de France. lib. 1. undertake the manage of the State. Girard affirmeth that it hath been the custom of the French, to honour their Kings whatsoever they are; whether wise or foolish, valiant or weak; esteeming the name of King to be sacred by whomsoever it be borne. And therefore they obeyed not only Charles the simple, but Charles the sixth also; who reigned many years in plain distraction of his mind. It was an ancient custom in Scotland, that the most sufficient of the Only the Persians had rather a superstition than a law, that no man might be King who had but one eye: for which cause Cosroes the son of Cabades was preferred before Bozi his elder brother. Procop. lib. 1. blood of Fergusus was received for King; but such wars, murders, and other mischiefs did thereupon ensue, that a law was made vnde●… Kenet the third, and afterwards confirmed by Millcolumbus, that the nighest in blood should always succeed. And accordingly the Scots refused not for their King john the eldest son of Robert the second, albeit he was borne out of marriage, and did halt, and was both in wit and in courage dull. For what if he who is debarred for disability Bald. cons. 389. l. 1. Socin. cons. 47. l. 3. Card. Alex. in c. 1. tit. an. mut. vel imperfect. And. Isern in c. ult. tit. episc. vel Abb. shall afterward have a son free from all defects? It is without question that the right of the Kingdom should devolve unto him: for that the calamity of parents doth not prejudice their children, especially in their L. ult. D. de senate. l. 3. D. de interred. & rel. l. 2. c. de lib●…rt & 〈◊〉. lib. l. Divi. D. de iure patr. l. quaeritur. D. de bo. lib. Pan. cons. 85. l. 1. I●…▪ And. in c. significasti. de foe▪ comp. natural rights, which they may claim from the person of former ancestors. But what if another be in possession of the Kingdom? will he readily give place to this right? will he readily abandon that honour, for which men will not spare, to climb over all difficulties, to undergo all dangers; to put their goods, their lives, their souls in adventure? If a man be once mounted into the chair of Majesty, it standeth not, I will not say with his dignity, but with his safety, to betake himself to a private State; as well for the eternal jealousy wherein he shall be held, as for the envy which shall be borne against him upon many of his actions: So as what some few would not do for ambition, the same they must do to preserve themselves. Hereupon it will follow, that the possession of the Kingdom being in one, and the right in another; disunions, factions, wars may easily ensue. It is inconvenient (I grant) to be under a King who is defective in body or in mind; but it is a greater inconvenience, by disturbing a settled form of government, to open an entrance for all disorders; wherein ambition and insolency (two riotous humours) may range at large. For as evil is generally of that nature, that it cannot stand, but by supportance of another evil; and so multiplieth in itself, until it doth ruin with the proper weight: so minds having once exceeded the strict bounds of obedience, cease not to strengthen one boldness by another, until they have involved the whole State in confusion. But now to return to the person and government of this King William▪ He was a man of mean stature, thick and square bodied, his belly swelling somewhat round; his face was red, his hair deeply yellow, by reason whereof he was called Rufus; his forehead four square like a window, his eyes spotted and not one like the other; his speech unpleasant and not easily uttered, especially when he was moved with anger. He was of great ability in body, as well for natural strength, as for hardiness to endure all ordinary extremities both of travail and of want. In Arms he was both expert and adventurous; full of inward bravery and fierceness; never dismayed, always forward, and for the most part fortunate; in counsel sudden, in performance a man; not doubting to undertake any thing which invincible valour durst promise to achieve. He had been bred with the sword; always in action, always on the favourable hand of Fortune: so as, albeit he was but young, yet was he in experience well grounded; for invention subtle, in counsel quick, in execution resolute; wise to foresee a danger, and expedite to avoid it. In a word, the general reputation of his valour and celerity, made him esteemed one of the best Chieftains in his time. His behaviour was variable and inconstant; earnest in every present passion, and for the most part accompanying the disposition of his mind, with outward demonstrations. Of nature he was rough, haughty, obstinate, invincible, which was much enlarged both by his sovereignty and youth: so singular in his own conceit, that he did interpret it to his dishonour, that the world should deem, that he did not govern by his own judgement. In public he composed his countenance to a stately terror; his face sourly swelling, his eyes truculent, his voice violent and fierce, scarce thinking himself Majestical in the glass of his understanding, but when he flashed fear from his presence. And yet in private he was so affable and pleasant, that he approached near the degree of levity: much given to scoffing, and passing over many of his evil actions with a jest. In all the other carriages of his life, he maintained no stable and constant course; but declared himself for every present, as well in virtue as in vice, strong, violent, extreme. In the beginning of his reign he was esteemed a most accomplished Prince; and seemed not so much of power to bridle himself from vice, as naturally disposed to abhor it. Afterwards, either with variation of times, or yielding to the pleasures which prosperity useth to engender even in moderate minds, or perhaps his nature beginning to disclose that which he had cunningly concealed before, corruptions crept up, and he waved uncertainly between virtue and vice. Lastly, being emboldened by evil teachers, and by continuance both of prosperity and rule, he is said to have made his height a privilege of looseness, and to have abandoned himself to all licentious demeanour; wherein he seemed little to regard God, and nothing man. Assuredly, there is no greater enemy to great men, than too great prosperity in their affairs; which taketh from them all judgement and rule of themselves; which maketh them full of liberty, and bold to do evil. And yet I cannot conceive that this King was so bold, so careless, so shameless in vices, as many writers do report. It is certain that he doubted of some points of Religion, at that time without any great contradiction professed; and namely, of praying to Saints, worshipping of Relics, & such like. It is certain also, that out of policy in State, he endeavoured to abate the tumorous greatness of the Clergy at that time; as well in riches, as in authority and power with the people: and that he attributed not so much to the Sea of Rome, as divers Kings before him had done. Insomuch as he restrained his subjects from going to Rome, and withheld the annual payment of Peter pence, and was oftentimes heard to give forth, that they follow not the trace of S. Peter, they greedily gape after gifts and rewards, they retain not his power, whose piety they do not imitate. These were causes sufficient for the writers of his time (who were for the most part Clergymen) to enlarge his vices beyond the truth, to surmise many vices untruly, to wrest his true virtues to be vices. And this I do the rather conjecture, for that I do not find his particular actions of like nature, with the general imputation which is cast upon him; for that also I find the chie●…e of these general imputations to be these: That he was grievous to the Church, of no devotion 〈…〉 to God, preferring respect of temporal state before the rules of the Gospel. Verily, it is hard to do that which will bear a clear beauty in the eyes of all men; and if our actions have not the favour of time, and the opinion of those Nihilest quod ma●… narrando non possit depravarier. 〈◊〉 Eun. men who do estimate and report them, they are much dimmed with disgrace. Out of all doubt he was a magnanimous Prince; merciful and liberal, and in martial affairs most expert, diligent and prosperous; wise to contrive his best advantage, and most courageous to achieve it. But two things chiefly obscured his glory; one, the incomparable greatness of his father, to whom he did immediately succeed; the other was the prowess of those men, against whom he did contend in arms; especially of Malcolm King of Scots, and of Robert Duke of Normandy. To these I may add, that he died in the principal strength and flourish of his age, before his judgement had full command over his courage. Many do attribute his excellent beginnings to Lanfranck Archb. of Canterbury: who during the time of his life, partly by authority, and partly by advise, supported the unstable years and disposition of the King: which after the death o●… Lanfranck returned by degrees to their proper sway. But I do rather attribute many of his first virtues to the troubles which happened in the very entrance of his reign; which partly by employment, and partly by fear, held his inclination in some restraint. For Odo Bishop of Baion and Earl of Kent, the King's uncle by the mother's side, had drawn the greatest part of all the Prelates and Nobility that were Normans, into a dangerous confederacy against the King; to deject him from his Srate, and to advance Robert his elder brother for their King. The secret cause of this conspiracy was partly upon a general discontentment, at the great, though worthy estimation and authority (a most capital offence in the eye of envy) of Lanfrank Archbishop of Canterbury; by means whereof many of the conspirators lived in far meaner reputation, than their ambitious minds could easily break: but chiefly it was upon a more particular grudge, which Odo did bear against the same Lanfranck; because by his persuasion, Odo had been committed to prison by King William the elder. For when the King complained to Lanfranck of the intolerable both avarice and ambition of his brother Odo, the Archbishop gave advise, that he should be restrained of his liberty. And when the King doubted, how he being a Bishop, might be committed to prison, without impeaching the privileges of the Church; indeed answered Lanfranck, you may not imprison the Bishop of Baion, but you may do what you please with the Earl of Kent. The public and open pretences were these. Robert Duke of Normandy had the prerogative of birth; which being a benefit proceeding from nature, could not be reversed by his father's act. He had also won a most honourable reputation for his military virtues; and had by many travels of war wasted the wild follies of youth. He was no less famous for courtesy and liberality, two most amiable ornaments of honour; being so desirous that no man should depart discontented from him, that he would oftentimes promise more than he was able to perform, and yet perform more than his estate could expediently afford. As for K. William, besides that he was the younger brother, his nature was held to be doubtful and suspect, and the judgement of most men inclined to the worst. And what are we then advantaged, (said they) by the death of his father? if whom he hath fleeced, this shall flay; if this shall execute those whom he hath fettered and surely bound; If after his severities that are past, we shall be freshly charged with those rigours, which tyrants in the height and pride of their Fortune are wont to use? And as stronger combinations are always made between men drawn together by one common fear, then between those that are joined by hope or desire; so upon these jealousies and fears, accompanied also with vehement desires, the Confederates supposed that they had knit a most assured league. Now it happened that at the time of the death of William the elder, Robert his eldest son was absent in Almain; and at once heard both of the death of his father, and that his brother William was acknowledged to be King. Hereupon in great haste, but greater heat both o●… anger and ambition, he returned into Normandy: and there whilst he was breathing forth his discontentment and desire of revenge, he received a message from the Confederates in England; that with all speed he should come over unto them, to accomplish the enterprise, to furnish their forces with a head: that they had no want of able bodies; they wanted no means to maintain them together; they wanted only his person both to countenance and conduct them. The Duke thought it no wisdom, to adventure himself altogether; upon the favour and faith of discontented persons: and he had been so loosely liberal before, that he was unprovided of money, to appoint himself with any competent forces of his own. Hereupon he pawned a part of Normandy to his brother Henry, for waging Soldiers: many also flocked voluntarily unto him; upon inducement, that he who of his own nature was most liberal & full of humanity, would not fail both of pay and reward, unless by reason of disability & want. In the mean time the Confederates resolved to break forth in Arms, in divers parts of the Realm at once; upon conceit, that if the King should endeavour to repress them in one place, they might more easily prevail in the other. And so accordingly Odo fortified and spoiled in Kent; Geoffrey Bishop of Exeter, with his nephew Robert Mowbray Earl of Northumberland, at Bristol; Roger Montgomerie in Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire; Hugh de Grandmenill, in Leicestershire and Northamptonshire; William Bishop of Durhame, in the North parts of the Realm; divers others of the Clergy and Nobility in Herefordshire, Shropshire, Worcestershire, and all the countries adjoining to Wales. And as in time of pestilence all diseases turn to the plague; so in this general tumult, all discontentments sorted to Rebellion. Many who were oppressed with violence or with fear; many who were kept lower either by want or disgrace than they had set their mounting minds, adjoined daily to the side, and increased both the number and the hope. And thus was all the Realm in a rumours rage against K. William, who wanted neither courage to bear, nor wisdom to decline it. And first he endeavoured by all means to make the English assured unto him. And albeit few of them were at that time in any great place, either of credit or of charge, but were all wounded by his father's wrongs; yet for that they were the greatest part, he made the greatest reckoning of them. For this cause he released many English Lords who had been committed to custody by his father. He composed himself to courtesy and affability towards the people, and distributed much treasure among them. But especially he wan their inclination by promises of great assurance, to restore unto them their ancient laws, to ease them of tributes and taxations, and to permit them free liberty of hunting: which being their principal pleasure and exercise before, was either taken away, or much restrained from them by King William the elder. Herewith he applied himself to appease the mutinous minds of his Nobility, to sever the Confederates, to break the faction; to divide it first, and thereby to defeat it. To this purpose he dealt with Roger Montgomerie, who next unto Odo was a principal both countenance and strength to the revolt; he dealt also with divers others, inferior unto him in authority and degree; that he could not conjecture for what cause they were so violent against him: did they want money? His father's treasure was at their devotion: desired they increase of possessions? they should not be otherwise bounded then by their own desires: that he would willingly also give over his estate, in case it should be judged expedient by themselves, whom his father had put in trust to support him: that they should do well to foresee, whether by overthrowing his father's judgement in appointing the kingdom unto him, they should not do that which might be prejudicial to themselves; for the same man who had appointed him to be King, had also conferred unto them those honours and possessions which they held. Thus sometimes dealing privately with particulars, and sometimes with many together, and eftsoons filling them with promises and hopes, and that with such new vehemency of words as they believed could not proceed from dissembled intents; he so prevailed in the end, that hereby, and by example of some inducing the rest, Roger Montgomerie and divers others were reconciled to the King; in whom was thought to rest no small matter to hold up the reputation of the enterprise. And further, he prepared a navy to guard the seas, and to impeach the passage of his brother into England. He prepared great forces also by means of the treasure which his father had left, and disposed them in places convenient, either to prevent or to repress these scattered tumults. But the success of his affairs was by no means so much advanced, as by Lanfranck Archbishop of Canterbury, and by Woolstane Bishop of Worcester: the authority of which two men, the one for his learning, wisdom, and mild moderation, the other for his simple sanctity and integrity of life, was greatly regarded by all sorts of people. By encouragement of Woolstane not only the city of Worcester was maintained in firm condition for the King, but his enemies received there a famous foil; the greatest part being slain, and the residue dispersed. This was the first sad blow which the confederates took; afterward they declined mainly, and the King as mainly did increase. The King in person led his chief forces into Kent, against Odo his uncle, the principal firebrand of all this flame. He took there the castle of Tunbridge and of Pemsey, which Odo had fortified▪ and lastly he besieged Odo himself in the castle of Rochester, and with much travel took him prisoner, and compelled him to abjure the Realm. Upon these events, the Bishop of Durham, advising only with fear and despair, fled out of the Realm; but after three years he was again restored to the dignity of his Sea. The residue did submit themselves to the King's discretion; and were by him received, all to pardon, some to gracious and dear account. For in offences of so high nature, pardon never sufficeth to assure offenders, unless by further benefits their loyalty be bound. Robert Duke of Normandy was busied all this time, in making preparation for his journey into England: but his delays much abated the affections of those who favoured either his person or cause. At the length, having made up a competent power, he committed to sea; where, his infelicities concurring with his negligence, divers of his ships which he had sent somewhat before him, to assure the confederates of his approach, were set upon and surprised by the navy of King William. After this he arrived in England, sent unto many of his secret friends, and made his coming known unto all: but no man resorted to him, he received no advertisement from any man; but plainly found, that by the fortunate celerity of King William, the heart of the conspiracy in all places was broken. So the Duke returned into Normandy, having then good leisure, to look into the error of his leisurely proceedings. When the King had in this sort either wisely reconciled, or valiantly repressed his domestical enemies; because an unperfect victory is always the seed of a new war, he followed his brother with a mighty army, and removed the seat of the war into Normandy. For he conjectured (as in truth it fell out) that the Duke his brother upon his return, would presently disperse his companies, for want of money; and for the same cause would not easily be able to draw them together again. So his valour and his power being much advantaged by his sudden coming, joined to the want of foresight and preparation in the Duke; he took in short time the Castles of Walerick and Aubemarle, with the whole Country of Yew; the abbacy of Mount S. Michael, Fescampe, Chereburge, and divers other places; which he furnished with men of Arms, and Soldiers of assured trust. The Duke feeling his own weakness, dealt with Philip King of France, and by liberal promises so prevailed with him, that he descended into Normandy with a fair Army, and bend his siege against one of those pieces which K. William had taken. But he found it so knotty a piece of work, that in short time wearied with hardness and hazards of the field, he fell to a capitulation with King William, and so departed out of Normandy; receiving a certain sum of money in regard of his charges, and conceiving that he had won honour enough, in that no honour had been won against him. The money that was paid to the King of France, was raised in England by this devise. King William commanded that 20. Thousand men should be mustered in England, and transported into Normandy, to furnish his wars against the French. When they were conducted near to Hastings, and almost ready to be embarked, it was signified to them from the King; that aswell for their particular safeties, as not to disfurnish the Realm of strength, whosoever would pay 10. shillings towards the waging of Soldiers in Normandy, he might be excused to stay at home. Among 20. Thousand scarce any was found, who was not joyful to embrace the condition; who was not ready to redeem his adventure with so small a sum: which being gathered together, was both a surer and easier means to finish the wars, then if the King had still struggeled by force of Arms. For when the French King had abandoned the party, Duke Robert, being prepared neither with money, nor constancy of mind to continue the war, inclined to peace; which at the last, by diligence of friends, was concluded between the two brothers, upon these conditions. That the Duke should yield to the King the County of Yew, the Abbey of Fescampe, the Abbey of S. Michael's mount, Chereburge, and all other Castles and fortifications which the King had taken. That the King should subdue to the use of the Duke, all other Castles and holds, which had revolted from him in Normandy. That the King should give to the Duke certain dignities and possessions in England. That the King should restore all those to their dignities and lands in England, who had taken part with the Duke against him. That if either of them should die without issue male, the survivor should succeed in his estate. These Articles were confirmed by twelve Barons on the King's part, and as many on the part of the Duke; so long observed, as either of them wanted either power or pretence to disannul them. This peace being made, the Duke used the aid of King William, to recover the fort of Mount S. Michael, which their brother Henry did forcibly hold, for the money which he had lent to the Duke of Normandy. Forty days they laid siege to this castle; having no hope to carry it, but by the last necessity, which is hunger. Within the compass of this time, as the King straggled alone upon the shore, certain horsemen sallied forth and charged upon him; of whom three struck him together so violently with their lances, as because he could not be driven out of his saddle, together with his saddle he was cast upon the ground, and his horse slain upon the place, for which he had paid the same day 15. marks. Extremity of danger (as it often happeneth) took from the King all fear of danger: wherefore taking up his saddle with both his hands, he did there with defend himself for a time. But because to stand upon defence only is always unsure, he drew his sword, and would not depart one foot from his saddle; but making show of brave joy, that he had nothing to trust unto but his own valour, he defended both his saddle and himself, till rescue came. Afterward when some of his Soldiers in blaming manner expostulated with him, wherefore he was so obstinate to save his saddle: his answer was, that a King should lose nothing which he can possibly save: It would have angered me, (said he) at the very heart, that the knaves should have bragged, that they had won the saddle from me. And this was one of his perpetual felicities, to escape easily out of desperate dangers. In the end Henry grew to extreme want of water, and other provisions: by which means he was ready to fall into the hands of those, who desired to avoid necessity to hurt him. And first he sent to the Duke his brother, to request some liberty to take in fresh water. The Duke sent to him a tun of wine, and granted a surcease of hostility for one day, to furnish him with water. At this the King seemed discontented, as being a means to prolong the war. But the Duke told him, that it had been hard to deny a brother a little water for his necessity. Here with like wise the King relenting, they sent for their brother Henry; and wisdom prevailing more than injuries or hate, they fell to an agreement, That upon a day appointed, Henry should receive his money at Rouen; and that in the mean time, he should hold the country of Constantine in mortgage. The King entertained with pay many of his brother Henry's soldiers; especially he received those who overthrew him, to a very near degree of favour. And thus all parties ordered their ambition with great modesty; the custom of former wars running in a course of more humanity, then since they have done. The King was the more desirous to perfect these agreements of Peace, for that Malcolm King of Scots (as Princes often times make use of the contentions of their neighbours) took occasion upon these confusions, to enterprise upon the parts of England which confined upon him. So as he invaded Northumberland, made great spoil, took much prey, carried away many prisoners; whose calamity was the more miserable, for that they were to endure servitude in a hard Country. For this cause the King with his accustomed celerity returned into England, accompanied with the Duke of Normandy his brother; and led a mighty army against the Scots by land, and sent also a navy to infest them by sea. But by a sudden and stiff storm, by a hideous confusion of all ill disposed weather, his ships were cruelly crushed; and having long wrought against the violence and rage of the tempest, were in the end dispersed, and divers of them cast away. Many of his soldiers also perished, partly by penury and want, and partly by the evil qualitied air. Notwithstanding the Scots, knowing the King of England to be an enemy mighty and resolute, began to waver in their assurance; framing fearful opinions, of the number, valour and experience of his army. Hereupon some overtures of Peace were made; the Scots expecting that the King, by reason of his late losses, would be the more moderate in his demands. But he than showed himself most resolute and firm; following his natural custom, not to yield to any difficulty. King Malcolm conjecturing that such confidence could not be without good cause, consented at the last to these conditions. That King Malcolm should make a certain satisfaction for the spoils which he had done in England. That King William should restonre to him certain lands in England. That K. Malcolm should do homage to King William. Now the day was come wherein Henry was appointed to receive his money at Rouen, from the Duke of Normandy. But as affairs of Princes have great variations, so they are not always constant in their Counsels. And so the Duke, carried by his occasions, and ready to lay down his faith and word more to the train of times, then to the preservation of his honour; instead of paying the money, committed his brother Henry to prison: from whence he could not be released, until he renounced the County of Constantine, and bound himself by oath never to claim any thing in Normandy. Henry complained hereof to Philip King of France; who gave him a fair entertainment in his Court, but was content rather to feed then finish the contention: either expecting thereby some opportunity to himself, or else the opinion of his own greatness not suffering him to fear, that others might grow to have fortune against him. Henry had not long remained in the Court of France, but a Normane Knight named Hacharde conveyed him disguised into Normandy; where the Castle of Damfronç was delivered unto him; and in short time after he gate all the Country of Passays, and a good part of Constantine; either without resistance, or without difficulty and peril. Hereupon the Duke levied his forces, and earnestly assayed to recover Damfronç: but then he found that his brother Henry was secretly, yet surely underset by the king of England. Hereupon, incensed with the fury of an injuried mind, he exclaimed against his brother of England, and almost proclaimed him a violater of his league. On the otherside, the King of England justified his action, for that he was both a means and a party to the agreement: and therefore stood bound in honour, not only to urge, but to enforce performance. So the flame broke forth more furious than it was before, and over went King William with an able army; where he found the Duke also in good condition of strength commanding the field. And albeit in so near approach of two mighty enemies, equal both in ambition and power, it is hard to contain men of service; yet was nothing executed between them, but certain light skirmishes, and surprizements of some places of defence. In the end, the King hearing of new troubles in England, and the Duke finding himself unable either to prevail with few soldiers, or to maintain many, and both distrusting to put a speedy end to the war; they were easily drawn to capitulations of peace. And thus ended the contention between these brethren; who until this time had continued like the waves of the Sea, always in motion, and one beating against the other. Besides these businesses which befell the King, against his Nobility, against the Duke of Normandy his brother, and against the King and nation of the Scots; the Welshmen also (who always struggled for liberty and revenge) perceiving that the King was often absent, and much entangled with hostile affairs; enforced the favour of that advantage, to free themselves from subjection of the English, and happily to enlarge or enrich themselves upon them. So having both desire and opportunity, they wanted not means to assemble in arms, to expel the English that were amongst them, and to cast down the Castles erected in their Country, as the principal yokes of their subjection. Afterwards, rising in boldness with success, they made divers incursions upon the bordering parts of England; spoiled the City of Gloucester, and exercised all those outrages, which uncivil people, incensed both with want and with hate do not usually omit. But being a company neither in discipline nor pay, raw and unarmed, they proceeded more like to robbers then to Soldiers; having no intention to vanquish, but to spoil. Hereupon the King twice in person invaded Wales, but with small show of success for the present. For the Welsh-enemies scattered the war, by dividing themselves into small companies, and retiring into the mountains and woods, and other places of natural defence. Here they travailed the King with a fugitive fight; flying when they were pursued, and hovering upon him when they were given over: cutting off many straggling soldiers, and taking some carriages, which in those rough places could not easily either be passed, or defended. And so by shifting always into places of advantage, they sought at one time, both to avoid fight, and to hinder the King from doing any thing of importance. At the last, the King having made sufficient proof how vain it is, to follow a light footed enemy with a heavy Army, pestered with train of carriage, in places where the service of horsemen is almost unprofitable; he gave over the pursuit, and retired into England. But first he repaired those Castles which the Welsh had destroyed, and built new Castles also upon the frontiers and within the bosom of Wales; which he furnished with so sure garrisons, as might suffice with favour of opportunity, either to weary or consume the enemies. And indeed the Welsh being by this means, always exercised, and daily wasted; declined in short time, no less to cowardice then to weariness and wants; so as Hugh Earl of Chester, & Hugh Earl of Shrewesbury, dispossessed them of the Isle of Anglesey, which they had surprised not long before. The Welsh that were there taken, were very hardly, or rather unmercifully and cruelly entreated; Some had their eyes pulled out, some their hands cut off, some their arms, some their noses, some their genitals. An aged Priest named Kenredus, who had been a chief director of the common affairs, was drawn out of a Church whereinto he had fled, had one of his eyes pulled out, and his tongue torn from his throat. I make no doubt but these severities were used against them, upon some savage outrages which they had done; wherein the less compassion was borne to their calamities, for the cowardice which they showed in their own defence. Shortly after, Magnus' King of Norway the son of Olaus, the son of Harold Harfager, having brought the Isles of Orkeney under his dominion, subdued also from the Welsh the Isle of Man; and enterprised upon the Isle of Anglesey against the English. But at his landing he was encountered by the Earl of Shrewsbury and the Earl of Chester; in which fight the Norwegians were vanquished and repelled, but the Earl of Shrewsbury with too brave boldness lost his life: leaving his honourable both actions and end as an excellent ornament to his posterity. Afterwards the Earl of Chester led an army into Wales; and found the people so consumed by the English garrisons, that he easily reduced many to profess obedience to the Crown of England; and disabled others, having no leaders of experience and valour, for showing their faces as enemies in the field. Also upon some variances which did rise between justinus, son to Gurguntus, Earl of Glamorgane and Morganock; and Rhesus son to Theodore Prince of South-Wales: justinus, not of power to maintain either his right or his will, sent Aeneas, son to Genidorus, sometimes Lord of Demetia, to crave aid in England. This he obtained, not only readily, but in greater measure than the service did require. Robert Fitzhamond was general Commander of the English army; who encountered Rhesus at a place called Blackhill; and in that fight Rhesus was slain: after whose death the name of King ceased in Wales. Then justinus failing, and happily not able to perform such conditions as in necessity he had assured, Fitzhamond turned his forces against him; chased the Welsh out of the champain Country, and divided the same among his principal Gentlemen. These erected Castles, in places convenient for their mutual aid; and so well defended themselves, that they left the Country to their posterity. Thus was the Lordship of Glamorgane and Morganock, which containeth 27. miles in length, & 22. in breadth, subdued to the English; giving example how dangerous it is for any people, to call in a greater force of strangers to their aid, then being victorious, they may easily be able to limit and restrain. This being a Lordship marcher, hath enjoyed royal liberties, since the time wherein it was first subdued. It hath acknowledged service and obedience only to the Crown. It hath had the trial of all actions, as well real as personal, and also held Pleas of the Crown; with authority to pardon all offences, Treason only excepted. Whilst the King was entertained with these chases, rather than wars in Wales, he lay at Gloucester many times; as not esteeming that his presence should always be necessary, and yet not far off if occasion should require. To this place Malcolm King of Scots came unto him, upon an honourable visitation. But the King having conceived some displeasure against him, refused to admit him to his presence. Hereupon King Malcolm, full of fury and disdain, returned into Scotland, assembled an army, invaded Northumberland, harassed and spoiled a great part thereof; having done the like four times before. Such is the heat of hate in minds that are mighty; who seldom hold it any breach of justice, to be revenged of him who offereth dishonour. When he was come near to Alnewicke, and his soldiers were much pestered with prey, (a notable impediment both for readiness and resolution to fight) he was set upon both suddenly and sharply by Robert Mowbray Earl of Northumberland; his troops hewn in pieces, himself together with his eleest son Edward slain. The third day ensuing, Margaret wife to King Malcolm, and sister to Edgar Adeling, not able to bear so sad and heavy a blow of fortune, ended also her life. She was famous for piety and for modesty, two excellent endowments of that Sex. By her persuasion Malcolm made a law, that whereas by a former law made by King Eugenius, the Lord enjoyed the first night with any new married woman within his dominion; the husband might redeem that abuse by payment of half a mark of silver. King Malcolm being slain, Dunwald his brother usurped the kingdom; but after a few days he was dispossessed thereof by Duncane, bastard son to K. Malcolm. In this action Duncane was chiefly supported by the King of England; with whom he had remained in hostage, and to whom he had made his submission by oath. And because the Scots did either see or suspect that he bore a favourable affection to the English, they would not receive him for their King, but under promise that he should not entertain any English or Normane, either in place of service, or as a follower at large. The year next following Duncane was slain, and Dunwald was again possessed of the kingdom. Hereupon King William sent Clito Edgar with an army into Scotland; by whose means Dunwald was despoiled again of his Kingdom, and Edgar son to King Malcolm advanced to his father's estate. These were the principal adventures by Arms which concerned England, during the reign of K. William the second: wherein he so behaved himself, that he did worthily win an opinion to be one, who both knew and durst. In all actions he esteemed himself greatly dishonoured, if he were not both in Arms with the first, and with the forwardest in fight; doing double service, as well by example, as by direction: In which heat of valour, the favour of his Fortune excused many of his attempts from the blame of rashness. He was oftentimes most constant, or rather obstinate in pursuing those purposes, which with small deliberation he undertook. At a certain time when he was in hunting within the new Forest, he received advertisement, that Man's was surprised by Helie, Count de la Flesch, who pretended title thereto in right of his wife: that he was aided in this enterprise by Fouques d' Angiers, an ancient enemy to the Dukes of Normandy: and that the castle which held good for the King, must also be rendered, if in very short time it were not relieved. Upon these news, as if he had been in the heat of a chase, he presently turned his horse; and his passion not staying to consult with reason, in great haste road towards the Sea. And when he was advised by some to stay a time, and take with him such forces as the importance of the service did require; with a heart resolute and violent voice he answered, That they who loved him, would not fail to follow; and that if no man else would stir, he alone would relieve Mans. When he came to Dortmouth, he commanded ships to be brought for his passage. The winds were then both contrary and stiff, and the Sea swollen exceeding big; for which cause the Shipmasters persuaded him to await a more favourable season, and not to cast himself upon the miserable mercy of that storm. Notwithstanding the King, whose fear was always lest when dangers were greatest, mounted upon Shipboard, and commanded them to put to Sea; affirming, That it was no Princelike mind to break a journey for foulness of weather; and that he never heard of any King that had been drowned. And so for that the chief point of rescue rested in expedition, he presently committed to Sea; taking few with him, and leaving order that others should follow. After he had long wrestled with the winds and waves, he arrived in France, where running on in the humour of his courage and forwardness, he acquitted himself with greater honour than at any time before. So effectual is celerity for the benefit of a service, that oftentimes it more availeth, than either multitude or courage of Soldiers. In this expedition, Helie the principal commander against him was taken. And when he was brought to the King's presence, the King said pleasantly unto him: Ah master! in faith I have you now; and I hope I shallbe able to keep you in quiet. Then he: It is true indeed, the success of my attempts have not been answerable to the resolution of my mind; by mere adventure now you have me: but if I were at liberty again, I do better know what I had to do, and would not so easily be h●…ld in quiet. The King with a brave scorn replied: I see thou art but a foolish knave; unable to use, either thy liberty or thy restraint aright. But go thy ways, make good thy confidence: I set thee free and at liberty again; use thy advantage, and do thy worst. Helie daunted more with this high courage, then before he had been with the victory of the King, submitted himself, and made his peace under such conditions as it pleased the King to lay upon him▪ Certainly this magnanimous example hath seldom been equalled, never excelled by those, who are admired for the principal worthies of the world. He little favoured flatterers; the flies which blow corruption upon sweetest virtues; the miry dogs of the Court, who defile Princes with fawning on them; who commonly are fatted with bread which is made with the tears of miserable people. He was most firm 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉. R●… pu●…chra lingua cui 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. and assured in his word: and to those who did otherwise advise him, he would say; That God did stand obliged by his word. He is commended for his manly mercy; in releasing prisoners, and in pardoning offences of highest quality: which to a people that then lived under a Law, both rigorous, and almost arbitrary, and (as well for the novelty as for the uncertainty thereof) in a manner unknown, was a most high valued virtue. He not only pardoned many great offenders, but partly by gifts, and partly by advancements he knit them most assuredly unto him. And therefore although in the beginning of his reign, most of the Nobility, and many Gentlemen of best quality and ranks endeavoured to displace him, and to set up Robert his elder brother for their King; yet doth it not appear, either that any severity was executed upon them, or that afterward they were dangerous unto him. Notwithstanding in some actions he was noted of cruelty, or at the least of sharpness and severity in justice. For albeit he promised to the English, whilst his first fears and jealousies continued, that they should enjoy free liberty of hunting; yet did he afterwards so severely restrain it, that the penalty for killing a Deer was death. Robert Mowbray Earl of Northumberland, after he had defeated the Scots and slain Malcolm their King, not finding himself either honoured or respected according to his service; first refrained, and afterwards refused to come unto the Court. Hereupon the King, overruled indifferently with suspicion and hate, (two violent passions in minds placed in authority) sent his brother Henry with an army against him; who spoiled the Country, took the Earl, and committed him to prison. Then was he charged with divers crimes, which were sufficient (although but surmised) to undo an Innocent. Many examinations were also made, but for appearance only and terror, not to any bottom or depth. The especial matter objected against him was, for contriving to despoil the King both of life and state, and to set up Stephen Albamerle his Aunt's son for King. And thus it often happeneth, that great deserts are occasions to men of their destruction; either because Princes generally love not those to whom they are exceedingly beholding, or else for that thereby men do grow proud, insolent, disdainful, bold, immoderate both in expectation and demand, discontented, impatient if they be not satisfied, and apt to break forth into dangerous attempts. Of those who any ways declared themselves in his favour or defence, some were despoiled of their goods, some were banished the Realm; others were punished with loss of their eyes, or of their ears, or of some other part of their body. William d'Owe was accused in a Council holden at Salisbury, to be a complice of this Treason. And albeit he challenged his accuser to the combat, yet his eyes were pulled out, and his stones cut off by commandment of the King. And yet some authors affirm, that he was overcome in combat before. For the same cause the King commanded William Aluerie to be hanged; a man of goodly parsonage and modest behaviour; the King's ●…ewer, his Aunt's son, and hi●… godfather. Before his execution he desired to be whipped through many Churches in London: he distributed his garments to the poor, and bloodied the street as he went, with often kneeling upon the stones. At the time of his death he took it upon the charge of his soul, that he was clear of the offence for which he suffered. And so committing his innocency to God, and to the world his complaints, he submitted himself to the Executioners hands: leaving an opinion in some, a suspicion in many, that others also died without desert. For the king gave an easy ear to any man, that would appeach others for his advantage: whereby it sometimes happened, that offenders were acquitted by accusing innocents. He was liberal above measure; either in regard of his own abilities, or of the worthiness of the receivers. Especially he was bountiful 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Milites▪ ditate, reliquos omnes spernite. Severus apud Dionem. (if that term may be applied to immoderate lavishing) to men of war: for which cause many resorted to him from far Countries for entertainment. To win and retain the favour of these, he much impoverished his peaceable people. From many he took without justice, to give to others without desert: esteeming it no unequal dealing, that the money of the one, should be adventured and expended with the blood of the other. He much exceeded in sumptuousness of diet and of apparel, wherewith great men use to dazzle the eyes of the people: both which ways he esteemed the goodness of things, by their price. It is reported, that when his Chamberlain upon a certain morning brought him a new pair of hose, the King demanded what they cost; and the Chamberlain answered, three shillings. Hereat the King grew impatient, and said: What? heavy beast! dost thou take these to be convenient hose for a King? Away beggar, and bring me other of a better price. Then the Chamberlain departed and brought a far worse pair of hose (for a better could not at that time be found) and told the king that they cost a mark. The king not only allowed them for fine enough, but commended them also as exceeding fit. Assuredly this immoderate excess of a King is now far exceeded by many base shifting unthrifts. In building his expenses were very great. He repaired the City and Castle of Caerlile, which had been wasted by the Danes 200. years before. He finished New castle upon Tine. Many other Castles he erected or repaired upon the frontiers of Scotland; many also upon the frontiers and within the very breast of Wales. He much enlarged the Tower of London, and environed it with a new wall. He also built the great Hall at Westminster, which is 270. foot in length, and 74. foot in breadth. And when many did admire the vast largeness thereof, he would say unto them, that it was but a bed chamber, but a closet, in comparison of that which he intended to build. And accordingly he laid the foundation of another Hall, which stretched from the River Thames to the King's high street: the further erection whereof, with divers other heroical enterprises, ceased together with his life. Thus partly by reason of his infinite plots and inventions, and partly by his disorders and unbridled liberalities, he always lived at great charges and expenses; which whilst the large treasure lasted which his father left him, were borne without grievance to the subjects: But when that was once drained, he was reduced to seek money by extraordinary means. So, many hard taxes were laidupon the people, partly for supply to his own necessities, and partly to imitate the policy of his father; that the people being busied how to live, should retain small either leisure or means to contrive innovations. For this cause he was supposed, upon purpose to have enterprised many actions of charge; that thereby he might have colour to impose, both employments and taxations upon the people. And because the riches of the clergy at that time were not only an eyesore unto many, but esteemed also by some, to be very far above due proportion; He often fleeced them of great sums of money. For which cause it is evident, that the writers of that age (who were for the most part Clergy▪ men) did both generally enueigh against him, and much deprave his particular actions. He withheld his annual payment to the Sea of Rome, upon occasion of a Schism between Urban at Rome, and Clement at Ravenna. He claimed the investiture of Prelates to be his right: He forbade Appeals and intercourse to Rome: For which and other like causes he had a very great contention with the Clergy of his Realm, especially with Anselm Archbishop of Canterbury. The seeds of this contention were cast, when Anselm was first received to his Sea. For at that time two did strive for the Papacy of Rome; Vrbanus and Guibert, called Clement the third: some Christian States favouring the one, and some the other. King William inclined to Clement the third, and with him the Realm generally went; but Anselm did fully go with Urban; making so his condition before he did consent to accept his dignity. When he was elected and before his consecration, the King demanded of him, that such lands of the Church of Canterbury as the King had given to his friends since the death of Lanfranck, might still be held by them as their lawful right: but to this Anselm would in no case agree. Hereupon the King stayed his consecration a certain time; but at length by importunity of the people he was content to receive his homage, and to give way to his consecration. Not long after, the Archbishop desired licence of the king to go to Rome, to receive his Pall; which when the King refused to grant, he appealed to the Sea of Rome. Now this was the first Appeal that ever before had been made in England. For Appeals were not here in ordinary use, until after this time, under the reign of King Stephen; when Henry Bishop of Wint. being the Pope's Legate, brought them in. Wherefore the King offended with this novelty, charged Anselm with breach of his fealty and oath. Anselm answered, that this was to be referred to the judgement of a Council, whether it be a breach of allegiance to a terrene Prince, if a man appeal to the Vicar of Christ. The King alleged; that the custom of his Realm admitted no appeal from the king; that supreme appeal was a most principal mark of Majesty, because no appeal can be made but to a superior; that therefore the Archbishop by appealing from him, denied his Sovereignty, derogated from the dignity of his Crown, and subjecteth both him and that to another Prince, to whom as to a superior he did appeal; That herein he was an enemy and a Traitor to him and to the State. Anselm replied, that this question was determined by our Lord, who taught us what allegiance is due to the Pope, where he saith; Thou art Peter, and upon this Rock will I build my Church, etc. And again; To thee will I give the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, etc. And again in general; He that heareth you heareth me, and who despiseth you despiseth me. And again, He that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of my eye. But for the allegiance due to the King, he saith; Give to Caesar that which belongeth to Caesar, and to God what pertaineth to God. To this the king finally said; That having made themselves Masters to interpret and give sense to the Scriptures, it was easy to maintain by them whatsoever they desired or did; it was easy for them to burst their ambition with their swelling greatness. But well he was assured, that CHRIST intended not to dissolve orders for Civil government, to ruin kingdoms, to embase authority and right of Kings, by means of his Church: this right of a King he had, and this right he would maintain. In this contention few of the Bishops did openly take part with Anselm; but some, and especially the Bishop of Durhame, did directly declare against him. The residue, when he asked their advise, would answer him, That he was wise enough, and knew what was best for him to do; as for them, they neither durst nor would stand against their Lord. By assistance of these the King purposed to deprive Anselm, and to expel him out of the Realm. But Anselm avowed, That as he was ready to depart the Realm, so would he take his authority with him, though he took nothing else. Now the King had sent two messengers to Pope Urban at Rome, to entreat him to send the Pall to the King; to be disposed by him as he should think fit. These messengers were by this time returned; and with them came Guibert the Pope's Legate, who brought the Pall. The Legate went first privily to the King, and promised that if Urban should be received for Pope in England, the King should obtain of him whatsoever he would. The King required that Anselm might be removed. The Legate answered, that it could not be, that such a man without just cause should be removed; Notwithstanding some other things being granted to the King, Urban was declared to be lawful Pope; and the King was content to swallow down that mo●…sel, which had been so unpleasant for him to champ on. The Pall was carried to Anselm with great pomp, in a vessel of silver; and he came forth bare footed, in his Priestly Vestments to meet and to receive it. The year next following the King invaded Wales; where he repressed the rebellious enemies, and returned victorious. Anselm prepared to go unto him, to salute him, to congratulate his good success. But the King prevented him by messengers, who laid to his charge, both the small number, and evil appointment of the Soldiers, which he sent to that service; and therefore warned him to appear at the Court, to make his answer. Happily also the King was incensed by matters more light; but taken in the worst part, as it commonly falleth out in suspicions and quarrels. At the day appointed Anselm appeared, but avoided his answer by appealing to the Pope: for prosecution whereof, he made suit for the King's licence to go to Rome. The King said as before; That this appeal was against the custom of the Realm, and against the dignity of his Crown, to both which Anselm had sworn. Anselm answered, That he was sworn to neither of them, but so far as they were consonant to the Laws of GOD, and to the rules of equity and right. The King replied, That no limitation being expressed, it was not reasonable that upon his own conceit of piety or equity, he should slip out of the band of his oath. Thus was the contention on both sides obstinately maintained; and for a long time Anselm was commanded to attend the Court. At the last he was released, but under express charge, that he should not depart out of the Realm; or if he did, that it should never be lawful for him to return. Anselm departed from the Court, went straight to Dover, with purpose to pass the Seas into France. Here he was either awaited or overtaken by William Warlewast the King's officer; not to stay him from his passage, but to rifle him of all that he had. Others also were appointed to seize his goods in other places, and to convert the profits of his archbishopric to the use of the King; making a bare allowance to the Monks, of meat, drink and clothing. So the Archbishop crossed the Seas into France, rested a while at Lions, and then travailed over the Alps to Rome; where he was entertained by Pope Urban, with more than ordinary ceremonies of honour. And first the Pope wrote to the king of England on the behalf of Anselm; and retained him in his Palace until he should receive answer from the king. When the messenger was returned with such answer as Anselm did not like, he desired of the Pope to be discharged of his dignity; which he had found (he said) a wearisome stage, whereon he played a part much against his will. But hereto the Pope would in no case agree; charging him upon virtue of his obedience, That wheresoever he went, he should bear both the name and honour of Archbishop of Canterbury. As for these matters, (said he) we shall sufficiently provide for them at the next Council, where yourself shallbe present. When the Council was assembled, Anselm Concilium Baronense. fate on the outside of the Bishops; but the Pope called him up, and placed him at his right foot with these words; Includamus hunc in orb nostro, tanquam alterius orbis Papam. Afterwards in all general Counsels, the Archb. of Canterbury took the place. In this Council the points of difference between the Greek and Latin Churches were strongly debated; especially concerning the proceeding of the Holy Ghost, and for leavened bread in the administration of the Eucharist: wherein Anselm showed such deep learning, weight of judgement, and edge of wit, that he approached nearer admiration than applause. These matters determined, complaints were brought against the King of England, and the Pope is said to have been ready to excommunicate him: but Anselm kneeled before the Pope, and obtained for the King a longer term. The Pope was then at great contention with Henry the fourth Emperor, who had been excommunicated before by Hildebrand, and was then again excommunicate by Urban: being the first Christian Prince with Sovereign power, who was ever excommunicate by any Pope. And for that Urban at that time had his hands full against the Emperor, for that also he would not make the example too odious at the first, he was willing enough to forbear excommunication against the King. And the rather for that Anselm had intelligence from his friends in England, that the excommunication would not be regarded. Hereupon, accounting it a sufficient declaration of his power for the time, to have menaced excommunication, he caused a general decree to be made; That as well all Lay-people who should give investiture of Churches, as those of the Clergy who should be so invested; also those who should yield themselves in subjection to Lay-men for Ecclesiastical livings, should be excommunicate. This general sentence was pronounced. The Pope also signified by letters to the King, that if he would avoid particular proceeding against himself, he should forth with restore Anselm to the exercise of his Office in his Church, and to all the goods and possessions pertaining thereto. Hereupon the King sent messengers to the Pope, who declared unto him; That their great Master the King marveled not a little, wherefore he should so sharply urge the restitution of Anselm; seeing it was expressly told him, That if he departed out of England without licence, he should expect no other usage. Well said the Pope, Have you no other cause against Anselm, but that he hath appealed to the Apostolical Sea, and without licence of your King hath travailed thither? They answered, No. And have you taken all this pains (said he) have you travailed thus far to tell me this? Go tell your Lord, if he will not be excommunicate, that he presently restore Anselm to his Sea: And see that you bring me answer hereof the next Council, which shallbe in the third week after Easter: make haste, and look to your term, lest I cause you to be hanged for your tarriance. The messenger was herewith much abashed; yet collecting himself, he desired private audience of the Pope: affirming, that he had some secret instructions from the King to impart unto him. What this secret was it is unknown. Whatsoever it was, a longer day was obtained for the King, until Michaelmas than next ensuing. And when that day was come, albeit complaints were renewed, yet was nothing done against the King. The Archb. seeing the small assurance of the Pope, returned to Lions in France▪ and there remained until the death, first of Pope Urban, and afterwards of the king; which was almost the space of 3. years. By this great conflict the king lost the hearts of many of the Clergy; but his displeasure had seasoned revenge with contentment: and finding himself sufficient, both in courage and means to bear out his actions, he became many other ways heavy unto them. When any Bishopric or Monastery fell void, he kept them vacant a long time in his hands, and applied the profits to himself: At the last he would set them to open sale, and receive him for Prelate, who would give for them the greatest price. here-hence two great inconveniences did ensue; the best places were furnished with men of least sufficiency and worth; and no man hoping to rise by desert, the general endeavour for virtue and knowledge were laid aside: the direct way to advancement, was by plain purchase from the king. In this seizing and farming and merchandising of Church-livings, one Ranulph, commonly called the King's Chaplain, was a great agent for the King. He was a man of fair use of speech, and lively in wit, which he made servants to licentious designs; but both in birth and behaviour base, and shameless in dishonesty; a very bawd to all the King's purposes and desires. He could be so evil as he li●…ted, and listed no less than was to his advantage. The King would often laugh at him, and say; that he was a notable fellow to compass matters for a King. And yet beside more then ordinary favour of countenance, the King advanced him, first to be his Chancellor, and afterward to be Bishop of Duresme. By his advise, so soon as any Church fell void, an Inventory was made of all the goods that were found, as if they should be preserved for the next successor; and then they were committed to the custody of the King, but never restored to the Church again. So the next incumbent received his Church naked and bare, notwithstanding that he paid a good price for it. From this King the use is said to have first risen in England, that the Kings succeeding had the Temporalties of Bishop's Seas so long as they remained void. He also set the first informers to work, and for small transgressions appointed great penalties. He is also reported to have been the first King of this Realm, who restrained his subjects from ranging into foreign Countries without licence. And yet what did the King by this sale of Church dignities, but that which was most frequent in other places? For in other places also few attained to such dignities freely. The difference was this: here the money was received by the King, there by favourites or inferior officers: here it was expended in the public uses of the State; there to private and many times odious enrichments: this seemeth the more easy, that the more extreme pressure, as done by more hungry and degenerous persons: this may be esteemed by some the more base, but assuredly it was the better dealing. And further, it is evident that the King did freely advance many excellent persons to principal dignities in the Church; and especially Anselm to the archbishopric of Canterbury, who was so unwilling to accept that honour, that the King had much to do to thrust it upon him. And the rather to induce him, he gave him wholly the city of Canterbury, which his predecessors had held but at the pleasure of the King. This Anselm was one whose learned labours do plainly testify, how little his spirits were fed with the fulsome fumes of surfeiting and ease; which to many others, together with their bodies, do fatten and engross their minds. He so detested singularity, that he accounted it the sin which threw Angels out of Heaven, and man out of Paradise. This detestation of singularity might happily incline him to the other extreme; to adhere over lightly to some common received errors. It is attributed to him that he would often wish, to be rather in hell without sin, then with sin in heaven. The king also advanced Robert Bloet, to the Bishopric of Lincoln: a man whose wisdom was highly graced, with goodly parsonage, and good delivery of speech: from whom notwithstanding the king afterwards wiped five thousand marks. He also freely received Hugh de Floriaco, a man for his virtue much esteemed, to be Abbot of the Monastery of S. Augustine's in Canterbury; and likewise divers others to other Ecclesiastical preferments: whereby I am confirmed in opinion, that many odious imputations against the king, were either altogether invented, or much enlarged above the truth. It happened upon avoidance of a certain Monastery, that two Monks went to the king, either of them contending, as well by friends, as by large offer of purse, to procure to be made Abbot of the place. The ●…ing espying a third Monk standing by, who came with the other two, either to accompany them, or to obtain some inferior place under him that should prevail, demanded of him what he would give? The Monk answered, that he had small means and less mind, to purchase that or any other dignity of the Church: For with that intention did he first betake himself to a religious life, that holding riches and honour (the two beauties of the world) in contempt, he might more freely and quietly dispose himself to the service of God. The King replied, that he judged him most worthy of that preferment; and therefore first offered it unto him, then entreated, and lastly enjoined him to accept it. Assuredly, the force of virtue is such, that often times we honour it in others, even when we little esteem it in ourselves. He is charged with some actions and speeches tending to profaneness. The jews at Rouen so prevailed with him by gifts, that they drew him to reprehend one who had forsaken their superstition. At London a disputation was appointed between certain Christians and jews. The jews a little before the day prefixed, brought to the King a rich present; At which time he encouraged them (no doubt but by the way of jollity and mirth) to acquit themselves like tall fellows, and if they prevailed by plain strength of truth, he swore (as was his usual) by S. Luke's face, that he would become one of their Sect. These things happily not much spoken amiss, might easily be depraved by report. It is affirmed of him that he so much exceeded in bodily lust, (than which nothing maketh a man more contemptible) that thereby he seemed to decline from the Majesty of a Prince. This vice did cast a great mist over his glory. And yet neither is it infrequent in lusty bodies, placed in a State both prosperous and high, neither can the pleasure of one man that way extend itself to the injury of many. The worst was, that after his example, many Haec conditio principium ut quicquid faciant praecipere videantur. Quint. declam. 4. others did follow licentious traces; examples of Princes being always of greater force than their Laws, to induce the people to good or to evil. As the King turned the prosperity of his actions to serve his vanities and delights, so his followers by felicity became insolent, and let go at adventure serious affairs; not receiving into their thoughts any other impression then of bravery and pleasure. And they who were greatest in the counsels and favours of the King, respected all things no further, then as they were advantageable to themselves. Then rose up costly apparel, and dainty fare, two assured tokens of a diseased State; the one the vainest, the other the grossest prodigality that can be. Then was brought into use the laying out of hair, strange fashions and disguise in attire, and all delicacies pertaining to the body. Then were practised nice tread, lascivious looks, and other dissolute and wanton behaviour: many effeminate persons did accompany the Court, by whose immodest demeanour the majesty of that place was much embased. From hence also the poison broke forth, first into the city, and after wards into other places of the Realm; for as in fishes, so in families, and so likewise in States, putrefaction commonly beginneth at the head. IN the second year of this king's reign Lanfranck Archb. of Canterbury ended his life: A man highly esteemed, with good men, for his learning and integrity; with great men, for his diligence and discretion to sound deeply into affairs; with the common people for his moderate and modest behaviour. King William the first did honour and embrace him with great respect, and was much guided by his advise. He was as a Protector to King William the second. When he went to Rome to obtain his Pall, the Pope rose from his chair, stepped forwards to meet him, and with many ceremonies of courtesy did entertain him. Then he returned to his seat, and said: Now Lanfrancke, I have done to thee what is due to thy virtue, come thou and do to me what appertaineth to my place. He was an earnest enemy to all vices, especially to avarice and pride, the two banes of all virtues. He renewed the great Church of Canterbury, and enriched it with 25. manours. He repaired the walls of that City, and built two Hospitals therein; one of S. john, the other Harlebaldowne. He gave a thousand marks towards the repairing and enlarging of the Abbey of S. Alban's, and procured Redbourne to be restored thereto. By his Testament he gave to the same Church 1000 pounds, besides many rich ornaments. He took great pains in purging ancient Authors from such corruptions as had crept into them: divers works also he wrote of his own, but the greatest part of them are perished. Thus he lived in honour, and died with fame; his time employed in honest studies and exercises, his goods to good and Religious uses. The same year a strange and great earthquake happened throughout all the Realm; after which ensued a great scarciti●… of fruit, and a late harvest of corn, so as much grain was not fully ripe at the end of November. In the fourth year of the reign of his King, a strong stroke of lightning made a hole in the Abbey steeple at Winchelscombe, near to the top; rend one of the beams of the Church, broke one of the legs of the Crucifix, cast down the head thereof, together with the Image of the Virgin Marie that was placed by it: Herewith a thick smoke darkened the Church, and breathed forth a marvelous stink, which annoyed the Church a long time after. In the same year a mighty wind from the south-west did prostrate 606. houses in London: And breaking into the Church of S. Marry Bow in Cheap, slew two men with some part of the ruins which it made, raised the roof of the Church, and carried many of the beams on such a height, that in the fall six of them, being 27. or 28. foot in length, were driven so deep into the ground (the streets not then paved with stone) that not above 4. foot remained in sight: and so they stood, in such order and rank as the workmen had placed them upon the Church. The parts under the earth were never raised, but so much was cut away as did appear above the ground; because it was an impediment for passage. The Tower of London at the same time was also broken, and much other harm done. The next year Osmund Bishop of Salisbury finished the Cathedral Church of old Salisbury; and the fifth day after the Consecration, the steeple thereof was fired with lightning. The year following much rain fell, and so great frosts ensued, that rivers were passable with loaden carts. The year next ensuing was exceeding remarkable both for the number and fashion of gliding Stars, which seemed to dash together in manner of a conflict. About this time Pope Urban assembled a Council at Clerimont in Auvergne, wherein he exhorted Christian Princes to join in action for recovery of Palestine, commonly called The Holy Land, out of the servile possession of the Saracenes. This motion was first set on foot, and afterwards pursued by Peter the Eremite of Amiens; which falling in an age both active and Religious, was so generally embraced, as it drew 300000. men to assemble together from divers Countries; and that with such sober and harmless behaviour, that they seemed rather Pilgrims than Soldiers. Among others, Robert Duke of Normandy addressed himself to this Voyage; and to furnish his expenses therein, he laid his Duchy of Normandy to gauge to his brother of England for 6666. li. or as other Author's report, for 13600. pounds of Silver. This money was taken up part by imposition, and part by loan, of the most wealthy inhabitants within the Realm: But especially the charge was laid upon religious persons, for that it was to furnish a religious war. When many Bishops and Abbots complained, that they were not able to satisfy such sums of money as the King demanded of them, unless they should sell the Chalices & silver vessels which pertained to their Churches. Nay answered the King, you may better make means with the silver and gold which vainly you have wrapped about dead men's bones; meaning thereby their rich Relics and Shrines. The year following a blazing star appeared, for the space of fifteen days together; the greatest bush whereof pointed towards the East, and the lesser towards the West. Gliding stars were often seen, which seemed to dart one against another. The people began (as to minds fearful all fancies seem both weighty and true) to make hard constructions of these unusual sights; supposing that the heavens did threaten them, not accustomed to show itself so disposed, but towards some variation. In the 13. year of his reign, the Sea surmounted his usual bounds, in divers parts of England and Scotland: whereby not only fields, but many villages, castles, and towns were overflown, and some overturned, and some overwhelmed with sand; much people, and almost innumerable cattle was destroyed. At the same time certain lands in Kent, which did once belong to Godwine Earl of Kent, were overflowed and covered with sand, which to this day do bear the name of Godwins' sands. Thunders were more frequent & terrible then had been usual; through violence whereof divers persons were slain. Many fearful forms and apparitions are reported to have been seen; whether errors, or inventions, or truths, I will not advow. The heavens often seemed to flame with fire. At Finchamsted in Berkshire Quae fata manent quamuis significata non vitantur. Tacit. ●…. hist. near unto Abington, a spring cast up a liquor for the space of fifteen days, in substance and colour like unto blood; which did taint and infect the next water brook whereinto it did run. The King was often terrified in his sleep with uncouth, ugly, unquiet dreams: and many fearful visions of others were oftentimes reported unto him. At the same time he held in his hands three bishoprics, Canterbury, Winchester, and Salisbury; and twelve Abbeys. The same year upon the second of August, a little before the falling of the Sun, as the King was hunting within the new forest, at a place called Choringham (where since a Chapel hath been erected) he struck a Dear lightly with an arrow. The Deer ran away, and the King stayed his horse to look after it; holding his hand over his eyes, because the beams of the Sun (which then drew somewhat low) much dazzled his sight. Herewith another Deer crossed the way; whereat a certain Knight, named Sir Walter Tirrell, aimed with an arrow: and losing his bow, either too carelessly at the Deer, or too steadily at the King, struck him therewith full upon the breast. The King having so received the wound, gave forth a heavy groan, and presently fell down dead; neither by speech nor motion expressing any token of life. Only so much of the arrow as was without his body was found broken; whether with his hand, or by his fall, it is not certainly known. The men that were near unto him (especially Sir Walter Tirrell) galloped away; some for astonishment, others for fear. But a few collecting themselves returned again, and laid his body upon a Collier's Cart, which by adventure passed that way; wherein it was drawn by one lean evill-favoured, base beast, to the City of Winchester; bleeding abundantly all the way, by reason of the rude jogging of the Cart. The day following he was buried, without any funeral pomp, with no more than ordinary solemnities, in the Cathedral Church or Monastery of Saint Swithen; under a plain flat marble stone, before the Lectorne in the Quire. But afterwards his bones were translated, and laid by King Canutus bones. Most writers do interpret this extraordinary accident to be a judgement of God, for the extraordinary loose behaviour of the King, But it may rather seem a judgement of God, that King William the first, who threw down Churches, and dispeopled Villages and Towns; who banished both the service of God, and society of men, to make a vast habitation for savage beasts, had two sons slain upon that place. It may also seem a judgement of God, that King William the second, who so greatly favoured beasts of game, that he ordained the same penalty for killing of a dear, as for killing of a man; should as a beast, and for a beast, and among beasts be slain. And thus God doth often punish us by our greatest pleasures; if they be either unlawful, or immoderately affected; whereby good things become unlawful. He died in the principal strength, both of his age, and of his distasteful actions; wherein he had been much carried by the hot humour of his courage and youth; his judgement not then raised to that staidness and Seris venit usus ab annis. ovid. 6. Metam. strength, whereto years and experience in short time would have brought it. He reigned in great variety of opinion with his Subjects (some applauding his virtues, others aggravating his vices) twelve years, eleven months wanting eight days: and was at his death forty and three years old. At this time he presumed most highly, and promised greatest matters to himself, he projected also many difficult adventures, if his life had continued the natural course; wherein his hopes were nothing inferior to his desires. He gave to the monks of Charity in Southwark his Manor of Bermondsey, and built for them the great new Church of Saint Saviour. Also of an old Monastery in the City of York, he founded an Hospital for the sustentation of poor persons, and dedicated it to S. Peter. This Hospital was afterward augmented by King Stephen, and by him dedicated to S. Leonard. KING HENRY THE FIRST, Surnamed BEAUCLERKE. ROBERT Duke of Normandy, the eldest brother to King William the second, was in Palestina when King William was slain; being one of the principal leaders in that Heroical war, which divers Christian Princes of Europe set up, to recover Jerusalem out of the power and possession of the Saracens. In this expedition he purchased so honourable reputation, for skill, industry, and valour of hand, that when the Christian forces had surprised Jerusalem, and divers other Cities in those quarters, the kingdom thereof was offered unto him. But the Duke, whether he conjectured the difficulties of that war, for that the enemy was both at hand, and under one command, but the Army of the Christians was to be supplied from far, and also consisted of many Confederates; In which case albeit sometimes men perform well at the first, yet in short time inconveniences increasing, they always either dissipate and dissolve, or else fall into confusion. Or whether he heard of the death of his brother, to whose Kingdom he pretended right; as well by prerogative of blood, as by express covenant between them confirmed by oath; refused the offer, which was the last period of all his honour, and in short time after took his journey from Palestine towards France. But Henry the King's younger brother, apprehending the opportunity of the Duke's absence, did forthwith seize upon the treasure of the King, and thereby also upon his State, and so was crowned at Westminster upon the second day of August, in the year 1100. by Maurice Bishop of London; because Anselm Archb. of Canterbury was then in exile. This enterprise was much advanced by the authority and industry of Henry Newborow Earl of Warwick, who appeased all opposition that was made against it. The people also, albeit they had been managed so tame, as easily to yield their back to the first sitter; yet to Henry they expressed a prone inclination, for that he was borne in England, at a place called Selby in Lincolnshire, since his father was crowned King: whereas Duke Robert his brother was borne before his father attained the kingdom. This served Prince Henry not only to knit unto him the affections of the people, but also to form a title to the Crown. For it hath been a question often debated, both by Arguments and by Arms, and by both trials diversly decided; when a king hath two sons, one borne before he was King, and the other after, whether of them hath right to succeed? Herodotus writeth, That when Darius the In Polyb●●. son of Hysdaspis' King of Persia made preparation for war against the Grecians and Egyptians, he first went about to settle his succession: because by the Laws of Persia, the King might not enter into enterprise of Arms, before he had declared his successor. Now Darius had three children before he was King, by his first wife the daughter of Gobris. After he was King he had other four, by Atossa the daughter of Cyrus. Artabazanes, or (as other term him) Arthemenes was eldest of the first sort; Xerxes of the second. Artabazanes alleged that he was the eldest of all the King's sons, and that it was a custom among all nations, That in principalities the eldest should succeed. Xerxes' alleged, that he was begotten of Atossa the daughter of Cyrus, by whose valour the Persians had obtained their Empire. Before Darius had given sentence, Demaratus the son of Aristo, cast out of his kingdom of Sparta and then living an exile in Persia, came unto Xerxes, and advised him further to allege, that he was the eldest son of Darius after he was King; And that it was the custom of Sparta, that if a man had a son in private state, and afterwards another when he was King, this last son should succeed in his kingdom. Upon this ground Artabazanes was rejected, and Darius gave judgement for Xerxes. This history is likewise reported by justine, and touched also by Plutarch: although just. lib. 2. Plut. de fraterna benevolentia. they disagree in names, and some other points of circumstance. So when Herode King of judea appointed Antipater his eldest son, but borne to him in private state, to succeed in his Royalty, and excluded Alexander and Aristobulus his younger sons, whom he had begot of Mariam, after he had obtained his kingdom; josephus plainly Antiq. lib. 16 cap. 3. reprehendeth the fact, and condemneth the judgement of Herode for partial and unjust. So Lewes borne after his father was Duke of Milane, Guicc. l●…b. 1. Blond. decad, ●…. lib. 2. was preferred in succession before his brother Galeace, who was borne before. And so when Otho the first was elected Emperor, his younger brother Henry pretended against him; for that Otho was borne before their father was S●…geb. in Chron. Emperor, and Henry after. In which quarrel Henry was aided by Euerharde Earl Palatine, and Giselbert Duke of Lorreine, with divers other Princes of Almain: But when the cause came to be canvased by the sword, the victory adjudged the Empire to Otho. Furthermore, this right of title seemeth to be confirmed by many grounds of the Imperial Law. As a L. neque Doroth. 61. l. docti●…ij 63. l. neminem. 64. cur●… l. pen. & vit. C. de decur. lib. 1●… l. ex libera. 6. C. suis & legit. that sons borne after their father is advanced to a dignity, do hold certain privileges, which sons formerly borne do not enjoy. That b L. imperi●…lis. 23. § ●…is ●…lud. C. de nu●… 〈◊〉 quicunque 7. C. de princip. agent. in re●…. those children which are borne after a person is freed from any infamous or servile condition, do participate only of that liberty, and not they who were borne before. That if a man taketh a wife in the Province wherein he holdeth office, the marriage is good, if after the time his Office shall expire, they continue in the same consent c Leos qui. 65. D. de rit. nupt. l. Etsi 6. C. de nupt. : but so that the children borne before, shall not be thereby held for legitimate. That d L. senator. 11. C. de dignit. lib. 10. those children which are borne after their father is honoured with the title of Clarissimus, do enjoy the rights due unto that degree of dignity, and not they who were borne before. That as a son borne after the father hath lost his kingdom, is not esteemed for the son of a King e L. emancipatum. 7. D de Senate. facit l. Divo Marco. 11. C. de quaest. l. 3. D. de Interred. & rel. l. 2. C. de lib. & e●…r. lib●…. : so neither he that is borne before the father be a King f Gl. in d. l. Imperialis. Bar. in l. si. Senator. C. de dig. li. 12. Bald. in l. cum suis. D. de lib. posth. Anch. & Phil. Franc. in c. ne aliqui de priuil. li. 6. 4. Ana. in c. 2. de judae▪ facit l. ex libera▪ C. de so. & le. l. i. i. fi. D▪ de bo. po. co. 〈◊〉. l. si nequ●…. §. si deport. D. de bon. libert. l. filii. §. senatores. D. ad municipia. l. quicunque C▪ de princ. again. in reb. lib. 12. & ib. Luc. Pen. . And although these and divers like passages of Law commonly alleged, do seem little or nothing pertinent to this purpose; for that they concern not any universal right of inheritance, which is due unto children after the death of their parents; but certain particular piviledges and rights attributed unto them whilst their parents were in life, which for the most part are arbitrary and mutable, as depending upon the pleasure of the Prince: Yet many Interpreters of both Laws have been drawn by these reasons to subscribe their judgements for this kind of Title: and namely Pet. Cynus, Baldus, Albericus g In d. l. Imp●…rialis. §. illud. , jac. Rebuffus, & Luc. Penna h In l. si Senat●…▪ C. de dign. li. 12. . Also Panormitane i In c. lice●…. de V●…t. , Collect. k In c. ex tenor●…. qui fill. sun●… leg it. . Dynus l In l. 2. §. in ●…ilijs. D. de Decu▪ & in l. mori●… §▪ sed utrum D de ●… oenis. , Franc. Cremen.. m Sing. 50▪ ●… ib. addit. Marti. Laud. n In tract p●…mogen. . Card. Alexander o In c. Adr●… nus. di. 63. , Phil. Decius p In c. inter 〈◊〉 ●…eras de res●…. , Alceat q In l. bona 〈◊〉 des. D. deposit. , Bon. Curti. r In tract. 〈◊〉▪ bilitatis. ●…art. 3. ad fin. . And lastly, Anton. Corsetta s In tract. de poten. & excellentia regi●… , delivereth it for a common received and followed opinion. Which must be understood with this distinction, if the kingdom be either newly erected, or else newly acquired by Conquest, Election, or any such title, other then by hereditary succession according to proximity in blood. For if the kingdom be once settled in a certain course of succession, because the dignity is inherent in the blood of that stock; because it is not taken from the father but from the ancestors; because it is not taken only from the ancestors, but from the fundamental law of the State; the eldest son shall indistinctly succeed, although he were borne before his father was King t Pet. la●…. in arb. succ. Reg. Franc. lo. Ray▪ in c. praetercà. de prohi feud▪ ●…li. & in tract. n●…bil q. 10. ●…a▪ à S. Georgio. 〈◊〉 tract. feud. D. Benedict in 〈◊〉▪ c. Ramutiu●…. 〈◊〉▪ 200▪ de test. . And therefore after the kingdom of Persia had been carried by succession in some descents, when Darius the King had four sons, Artaxerxes the eldest, Cyrus the next, and two others; Parysates the wife of Darius having a desire that Cyrus should succeed in the kingdom, alleged in his behalf the same reason wherewith Xexes had prevailed before: to wit, that she had brought forth Artaxerxes to Darius, when he was in private state; but Cyrus was borne to him when he was a King. Yet Plutarch affirmeth, that the reason In Artax. which she used was nothing probable, and that Artaxerxes the eldest son was appointed to be King. And so Blondus and Ritius do report, Blond. dec. 2. lib. 6. Mich. Ritius. de Reg. Hung. lib. 6. that Bela the King of Hungary being dead, Geysa succeeded, although borne unto him before he was a King. Others inferior in number, but not in weight of judgement do affirm, that whether a Kingdom be settled in succession, or whether by any other title newly attained, the right to succeed by all true grounds of law pertaineth to the eldest son; albeit borne before his father's advancement to the kingdom, in case there be no express law of the state to the contrary. The principal reason is, because this is the nature of all successions by way of inheritance: For, if a father purchaseth lands, leases, cattle, or other goods, the inheritance shall be transmitted to his eldest son, although borne before the purchase. Likewise if a father be advanced to any title of honour, as Duke, Earl, marquess, etc. it was never, I will not say denied, but once doubted, but that the eldest son should succeed in the same, albeit he was borne before the advancement. And therefore seeing this is the general rule of all other inheritable successions, and there is no reason of singularity in a kingdom; it followeth, that in like case the succession of a kingdom should also descend to the eldest son, although borne before the kingdom were achieved. Again, the son who was borne before his father was a King, had once a right to succeed in the kingdom; for if another son had not afterwards been borne, without all question he should have succeeded. But a right which a man by his own person hath acquired; albeit in some cases it may be diminished, yet can it not be altogether extinguished by any external or casual event, which hath no dependency upon himself. And so the right which the eldest son hath to his father's inheritance, may be diminished by the birth of other children, in regard of those goods which are to be distributed in parts among them; but it cannot possibly be extinguished. Neither can it be diminished in those things which are not of nature to be either valued or divided (of which sort a Kingdom is the chief) but do pass entirely unto one. For the right of blood which only is regarded in lawful successions, is acquired and held from the nativity of the child, and doth not begin at the father's death; at which time the inheritance doth fall. Lastly, if it be true in sons, that he shall succeed in a kingdom who is first borne, after the father is exalted to be a King; then is it true also in other remote degrees of consanguinity. And hereby it should often happen, that when a King dieth without issue of his body, they who are not only inferior in age, but more remote in degree, should exclude both the elder and the nearer in blood; because perhaps borne after the kingdom was attained: which is against all laws of lawful succession. Howsoever the right standeth, Henry the younger brother to King William Rufus, upon advantage of the absence of Duke Robert his eldest brother, form this title to the Crown of England. In which pretence he was strongly supported, first by a general inclination of the common people, for that he had both his birth and education within the Realm, and they were well persuaded of his good nature and disposition. Secondly, by the favour and travail of many of the nobility, especially of Henry Neuborow Earl of Warwick. Thirdly, (for that the sails of popular favours are filled most violently with reports) by his giving forth, that his brother Robert intended never to return; for that he was elected King of Jerusalem, and of all those large Countries in Asia, which the Christians had lately wrung out of the Saracens hands. Lastly, by using celerity the very life of actions; for he was Crowned at Westminster (as it hath been said) upon the fifth day of August, in the year 1100. which was the third day after his brother's death. In person he was both stately and strong; tall, broad breasted, his limbs fairly formed, well knit, and fully furnished with flesh. He was exceeding both comely and manly in countenance, his face well fashioned, his colour clear, his eyes lively and fair, his eyebrows large and thick, his hair black and somewhat thin towards his forehead. He was of an excellent wit, free from ostentation; his thoughts high, yet honourable and just: in speech ready and eloquent, much graced with sweetness of voice. In private he was affable, open, wittily pleasant, and very full of merry simplicity: in public he looked with a grave Majesty, as finding in himself cause to be honoured. He was brought up in the study of Liberal Arts at Cambridge, where he attained that measure of knowledge, which was sufficient both for ornament and use; but ran not into intemperate excess, either for ostentation, or for a cloak to unprofitable expense of time. By his example the young Nobility of the Realm began to affect a praise for learning: Insomuch as, at a certain interview between the King and Pope Innocent the 2. the sons of Robert Earl of Mellent, maintained open disputations against divers Cardinals and chaplains of the Pope. He was an exact esteemer of himself, not so much for his strength as for his weaknesses: less inclined to confidence then to distrust; and yet in weighty affairs resolute and firm; never dismayed, and always fortunate; his spirits being of force to oppose against any sort of difficulties or doubts. Extremities made him the more assured; and like a well knit Arch, he then lay most strong when he sustained the greatest weight. He was no more disposed to valour, than well settled in virtue and goodness; which made his valour of more precious valuation. He had good command over his passions; and thereby attained both peace within himself, and victory over others. In giving he was moderate, but bountiful in recompense; his countenance enlarging the worth of his gift. He was prone to relieve, even where there was least likelihood of requital. He hated flattery, the poisoned sugar, the counterfeit civility and love, the most base brokery of words: yet was no music so pleasing unto him as well deserved thanks. He was vigilant and industrious in his affairs; knowing right well that honour not only hath a painful and dangerous birth, but must in like manner be nourished and fed. He was somewhat immoderate and excessive, as well in advancing those he favoured, as in beating down and disabling his enemies. The sword was always the last of his trials; so as he never either sought or apprehended occasions of war, where with honour he could retain peace. But if it were injuriously urged, he wanted neither wisdom, nor diligence, nor magnanimous heart to encounter the danger; to bear it over with courage and success. He was frugal of the blood and slaughter of his Soldiers; never adventuring both his honour & their lives to the hazard of the sword, without either necessity or advantage. He oftentimes prevailed against his enemies more by policy then by power; and for victories thus attained, he attributed to himself the greatest glory. For wisdom is most proper to man, but force is common and most eminent in beasts; by wisdom the honour was entire to himself, by force it was participated to inferior Commanders, to every private ordinary Soldier: the effects of force, are heavy, hideous, and sometimes inhuman; but the same wrought to event by wisdom, is, as less odious, so more assured and firm. After that he was mounted into the seat of Majesty, he neglected no means to settle himself most surely therein, against the return of his brother Robert. To this end he contracted both amity and alliance with Edgar King of Scots, by taking his sister Matild to wife: by which means he not only removed his hostility, but stood assured of his assistance, in case his occasions should so require. She was daughter to Malcolm King of Scots, by Margaret his wife; who was sister to Edgar surnamed Adeling, and daughter to Edward, son to Edmund Ironside, the most valiant Saxon King, the scourge and terror of the Danes. So as after the death of Adeling who left no issue, this Matild was next by descent from the Saxon Kings to the inheritance of the Crown of England: and by her entermariage with King Henry, the two families of Normans and Saxons were united together both in blood and title to the Crown. This more than any other respect made the whole nation of the English not only firm to King Henry, against his brother, but loyal and peaceable during all his reign: for that they saw the blood of their Saxon Kings restored again to the possession of the Crown. She was a Lady virtuous, religious, beautiful and wise: far from the ordinary either vices or weaknesses incident to her sex. She had been brought up among the Nuns of Winchester, and Rumsey, whether professed or only veiled our writers do diversly report; but most affirm that she was professed. Yet for the common good, for the public peace and tranquillity of the State, she abandoned her devoted life, and was joined to King Henry in marriage, by consent of Anselm, without any dispensation from Rome. Of this Matild the King begat William a son, who perished by shipwreck; and Matild a daughter, first married to Henry the fifth Emperor, by whom she had no issue; afterward to Geoffrey Plantagenet Earl of Anjou, by whom she brought forth a son named Henry, in whom the blood of the Saxon Kings was advanced again to the government of this Realm. Now to purchase the favour of the Clergy, he called Anselm out of exile, and restored him both to the dignity and revenues of the Sea of Canterbury. Other bishoprics and Abbeys which King William kept void at the time of his death, he furnished with men of best sufficiency and reputation. He committed Radulph Bishop of Durham to prison, who had been both author and agent to King William in most of his distasteful actions against the Clergy. This Radulph was a man of smooth use of speech, witty only in devising, or speaking, or doing evil: but to honesty and virtue his heart was a lump of lead. Envious above all measure; nothing was so grievous to his eyes as the prosperity, nothing so harsh to his ears as the commendations of others. His tongue always slavish to the Prince's desires; not regarding how truly or faithfully, but how pleasingly he did advise. Thus as a principal infamy of that age, he lived without love, and died without pity; saving of those who thought it pity that he lived so long. Further, to make the Clergy the more assured, the King renounced the right which his Ancestors used in giving investitures; and acknowledged the same to appertain to the Pope. This he yielded at his first entrance, partly not knowing of what importance it was, and partly being in necessity to promise any thing. But afterwards he resumed that right again; albeit in a Council not long before held at Rome, the contrary had been decreed. For he invested William Gifford into the Bishopric of Winchester, and all the possessions belonging to the same. He gave the archbishopric of Canterbury to Radulph Bishop of London, and invested him therein by a Ring and a staff: he invested also two of his Chaplains at Westminster; Roger his chancellor in the Bishopric of Salisbury, and Roger his Larderer in the Bishopric of Hereford. Further he assumed the custom of his father and brother, in taking the revenues of Bishoprics whilst they remained void: and for that cause did many times keep them a longer season vacant in his hands, than many of the Clergy could with patience endure. But especially the Clergy did favour him much, by reason of his liberal leave either to erect, or to enlarge, or else to enrich Religious buildings. For to these works the King was so ready to give, not only way, but encouragement and help, that in no Prince's time they did more within this Realm either flourish or increase. And namely the house of S. john of Jerusalem was then founded near Smithfield in London, with the house of Nuns by Clerken well. Then were also founded the Church of Theukesburie, with all Offices thereto belonging: the Priory and Hospital of S. Bartholomewes' in Smithfield, the Church of S. Giles without Creeplegate; the College of Seculare Canons in the castle of Leicester; the Abbey without the Northgate of the same town called S. Marry deprato. Also the Monastery of S. john of Lanthonie by Gloucester; the Church of Dunmow in Essex; the Monastery of S. john at Colchester, which was the first house of Augustine Canons in England: the Church of S. Mary Oueries furnished with Canons in Southwark; the Priory of the holy Trinity now called Christ's Church within Algate; and the Hospital of S. Giles in the field: The Priory of Kenelworth; The Abbey of Kenshame; The Monastery of Plimpton in Devonshire; with the Cathedral Church of Exeter; the Priory of Merton; the College of Warwick; the Hospital of Kepar; the Priory of Osney near Oxeford; the Hospital of S. Cross near Winchester; the Priory of Norton in Cheshire, with divers others. The King also founded and erected the Priory of Dunstable, the Abbey of Circester, the Abbey of Reading, the Abbey of Shirebourne. He also changed the Abbey of Eley into a Bishop's Sea; he erected a Bishopric at Caerlile, placed Canons there, and endowed it with many honours. These and many other Religious buildings either done, or helped forward, or permitted and allowed by the King, much increased the affection of the Clergy towards him. Now to draw the love of the common people, he composed himself to a sober civility; easy for access, fair in speech, in countenance and behaviour kind: his Majesty so tempered with mildnèsse and courtesy, that his Subjects did more see the fruits, then feel the weight of his high estate. These were things of great moment with the vulgar sort; who love more where they are lovingly entreated, then where they are benefited, or happily preserved. He eased them of many public grievances. He restored them to the use of fire and candle after eight of the clock at night, which his father had most straightly forbidden. Punishments of loss of member used before, he made pecuniary. He moderated the Law of his brother, which inflicted death for killing any of the King's Deer; and ordained, that if any man killed a Dear in his own wood, the wood should be forfeited to the King. He permitted to make enclosures for Parks; which taking beginning in his time, did rise to that excessive increase, that in a few succeeding ages more Parks were in England, then in all Europe beside. He promised that the Laws of K. Edward should again be restored; but to put off the present performance, he gave forth, that first they should be reviewed and corrected, and made appliable to the present time. And albeit in truth they were never either reviewed or corrected, yet the only hope thereof did work in the people a favourable inclination to his part. Whilst the King did thus Immure himself in the state of England, as well by ordering his affairs, as by winning the hearts of the people unto him, Duke Robert was returning from Palestine, by easy and pleasurable journeys; using neither the celerity nor forecast which the necessity of his occasions did require. He visited many Princes by the way, and consumed much time in entertainments and other compliments of Court. He took to wife as he came Sibell the daughter of Roger Duke of Apulia and Earl of Cicill, who was a Norman: and the great portion of money which he received for her dower, he loosely lavished forth amongst his followers; of whom he received nothing again, but thanks when he (scattered rather then) gave, and pity when he wanted. At the last he arrived in Normandy, and forthwith was solicited out of England by letters from many, who either upon conscience or discontentment favoured his Title; and especially from Radulph Bishop of Durham, who had lately escaped out of prison, a man odious enough to undo a good cause; that he would omit no time, that he would let fall no diligence, to embark himself in the enterprise for England: that he had many friends there, both powerful and sure, who would partake with him in his dangers, although not in the honour achieved by his dangers: that therewith the people's favour towards the King did begin to ebb, and that it was good taking the first of the tide. Hereupon he shuffled up an Army in haste; neither for number, nor furniture, nor choice of men answerable to the enterprise in hand. Then he crossed the Seas, landed at Portesmouth, and marched a small way into the Country; vainly expecting the concourse and aid which had been assured him out of England. But King Henry had made so good use both of his warning and time to provide against this tempest, that he did at once both cut from the Duke all means of aid, and was ready to encounter him in brave appointment. Hereupon many who were unable by Arms to relieve the Duke, by advise did to him the best offices they could. For they laboured both the King and him to a reconcilement; The King with respect of his new unsettled estate, the Duke with respect of his weaknesses and wants; both with regard of natural duty and love, knit between them by band of blood. So after some travail and debatement, a peace was concluded upon these Conditions. That Henry should retain the kingdom of England, and pay to his brother Robert 3000. marks yearly. That if either of them should die without issue, the survivor should succeed. That no man should receive prejudice for following the part of the one or of the other. These conditions being solemnly sworn by the king and the Duke, and twelve Noble men on either part, the Duke returned into Normandy, and about two years after went again into England, to visit the King, and to spend some time with him in feasting and disport. At which time, to requite the King's kind usage and entertainment, but especially to gratify Matild the Queen, to whom he was godfather, he released to the King the annual payment of 3000. marks. But as a wound is more painful the day following, then when it was first and freshly taken; so this loose levity of the Duke, which was an exceeding sad and sore blow to his estate, was scarce sensible at his departure out of England, but most grievous to him after he had remained in Normandy a while: whereby many motions were occasioned, as well in the one place as in the other. The Duke complained, that he had been circumvented by his brother the King: that his courtesies were nothing else but allurements to mischief; that his gifts were pleasant baits, to cover and convey most dangerous hooks; that his fair speeches were sugared poisons; that his kind embracements were even to tickle his friends to death. Robert Belasme Earl of Shrewsbury, a man of great estate, but doubtful whether of less wisdom or fear, took part with the Duke, and fortified the Town and Castle of Shrewsbury, the Castles of Bridgenorth, Tichel, and Arundel, and certain other pieces in Wales against King Henry. And having drawn unto him some persons of wretched state and worse mind, whose fortunes could not be impaired by any event, he entered Staffordshire, and drove away light booties of cattle; being prepared neither in forces nor in courage, to stay the doing of greater mischief. But neither was this sudden to the King, neither was he ever unprovided against sudden adventures. Wherefore encountering the danger before it grew to perfection and strength, he first brought his power against the Castle of Bridgenorth, which was forthwith rendered unto him. The residue followed the example (which in enterprise of arms is of greatest moment) and submitted themselves to the King's discretion▪ Only the Castle of Arundel yielded upon condition, that Robert Belasme their Lord should be permitted to depart safely into Normandy: And upon the same condition they of Shrewsbury sent to the King the keys of their Castle, and therewith pledges for their allegiance. Then Robert with his brother Ernulphus, and Roger of Poitiers abjured the Realm, and departed into Normandy: where being full of rashness, which is nothing but courage out of his wits; and measuring their actions not by their abilities, but by their desires; they did more advance the King's affairs by hostility, then by service and subjection they could possibly have done. Also William Earl of Mortaigne in Normandy, and of Cornwall in England, son of Robert, uncle to the king, and brother to king William the first, required of the King the Earldom of Kent, which had been lately held by Odo uncle to them both. And being a man brave in his own liking, and esteeming nothing of that which he had in regard of that which he did desire, he was most earnest, violent, peremptory in his pursuit. Insomuch as, blinded with ambitious haste, he would often say, that he would not put off his upper garment, until he had obtained that dignity of the King. These errors were excused by the greenness of his youth, and by his desire of rising, which expelled all fear of a fall. Wherefore the King first deferred, and afterwards moderately denied his demand. But so far had the Earl fed his follies with assured expectation, that he accounted himself fallen from such estate as his hungry hopes had already swallowed. Hereupon his desire turned to rage, and the one no less vain than the other: but both together casting him from a high degree of favour, which seldom stoppeth the race until it come to a headlong downfall. For now the King made a counterchallenge to many of his possessions in England; and thereupon seized his lands, dismantled his castles, and compelled him in the end to forsake the Realm. Not for any great offence he had done, being apt to the fault rather of rough rage then of practice and deceit; but his stubborn stoutness was his offence; and it was sufficient to hold him guilty, that he thought himself to have cause and means to be guilty. So having lost his own state in England, he departed into Normandy, to further also the loss of that country. There he confederated with Robert Belasme, and made divers vain attempts against the King's castles; neither guided by wisdom, nor followed by success. Especially he vented his fury against Richard Earl of Chester, who was but a child, and in wardship to the King, whom he daily infested with invasions and spoils; being no less full of desire to hurt, then void of counsel and means to hurt. On the other side, divers of the Nobility of Normandy, finding their Duke without judgement to rule, had no disposition to obey; but conceived a careless contempt against him. For he seemed not so much to regard his substantial good, as a vain breath of praise, and the fruitless favour of men's opinions, which are no fewer in variety than they are in number. All the revenues of his Duchy he either sold or mortgaged; all his Cities he did alien, and was upon the point of passing away his principal City of Rouen to the Burghers thereof, but that the conditions were esteemed too hard. Hereupon many resolved to fall from him, and to set their sails with the favourable gale which blew upon the fortune of the King. To this end they offered their submission to the King, in case he would invade Normandy; whereto with many reasons they did persuade him: especially in regard of the late hostile attempts there made against him, by the plain permission of the Duke his brother, and not without his secret support. The King embraced the fair occasion, and with a strong Army passed into Normandy. Here he first relieved his forts, which were any ways distressed or annoyed; then he recovered those that were lost; Lastly, he wan from the Duke the town and castle of Caen, with certain other castles beside: And by the help of the Precedent of Anjou, fi●…ed Baion, with the stately Church of S. Marry therein. Upon these events, all the Priories of Normandy, resembling certain flowers, which open and close according to the rising or declining of the Sun; abandoned the Duke, and made their submission to King Henry. So the King having both enlarged and assured his state in Normandy, by reason of the approach of winter, departed into England: but this was like the recuiling of Ramme●…, to return again with the greater strength. He had not long remained in England, but his brother Robert came to him at Northampton, to treat of some agreement of peace. Here the words and behaviours of both were observed. At their first meeting they rested with their eyes fast fixed one upon the other; in such sort as did plainly declare, that discourtesy than trencheth most deep, when it is between those who should most dearly love. The Duke was in demands moderate, in countenance and speech inclined to submissness; and with a kind unkindness did rather entreat then persuade, that in regard of the natural Obligation between them by blood, in regard of many offices and benefits wherewith he had endeavoured to purchase the King's love, all hostility between them, all injury or extremity by Arms might cease. For I call you (said he) before the Seat of your own judgement, whether the relinquishing of my Title to the Crown of England, whether the releasing of my annuity of 3000. marks, whether many other kindnesses, so much undeserved as scarce desired; should not in reason withdraw you from those prosecutions, where war cannot be made without shame, nor victory attained without dishonour. The King used him with honourable respect; but perceiving that he was embarked in some disadvantage, conceiving also that his courage with his Fortune began to decline, he made resemblance at the first, to be no less desirous of peace than the Duke: But afterwards, albeit he did not directly deny, yet he found evasions to avoid all offers of agreement. The more desirous the Duke was of peace, the greater was his disdain that his brother did refuse it. Wherefore cleared his countenance from all shows of dejection or grief, as then chiefly resolute when his passion was stirred, with a voice rather violent then quick, he rose into these words. I have cast myself so low, as your haughty heart can possibly wish; whereby I have wronged both myself and you: myself, in occasioning some suspicion of weakness; you, in making you obstinate in your ambitious purposes. But assure yourself, that this desire did not proceed from want either of courage, or of means, or of assistance of friends: I can also be both unthankful and unnatural if I be compelled. And if all other supportance fail, yet no arm is to be esteemed weak, which striketh with the sword of necessity and justice. The King with a well appeased staidness returned answer; that he could easily endure the injury of his angry words: but to men of moderate judgement he would make it appear, that he intended no more in offending him, then to provide for defending himself. So the Duke observing few compliments, but such as were spiced with anger and disdain, returned into Normandy, associated to him the English exiles, and made preparation for his defence. The King followed with a great power, and found him in good appointment of arms: nothing inferior to the King in resolute courage, but far inferior both in number of men, and in fine contrivance of his affairs. For the King had purchased assured intelligence, among those that were nearest both in place and counsel to the Duke: in whom the Duke found treachery, even when he reposed most confident trust. Herewith Pope Paschal, to attain his purpose in England, for divesting the King of investing Bishops; did not only allow this enterprise for lawful, but encouraged the King, that he should do thereby a noble and a memorable benefit to his Realm. So, many stiff battles were executed between them, with small difference of advantage at the first; but after some continuance, the Duke's side (as it commonly happeneth to evil managed courage) declined daily, by reason of his daily increase of wants. At the last the Duke, wearied and overlaid, both with company of men and cunning working, resolved to bring his whole state to the stake, and to adventure the same upon one cast: committing to Fortune, what valour and industry could bring forth. The king being the invader, thought it not his part to shrink from the shock; being also advertised that the French King prepared to relieve the Duke. On the Duke's side, disdain, rage, and revenge, attended upon hate: the King retained invincible valour, assured hope to overcome, grounded upon experience how to overcome. They met upon the same day of the month just 40. years, after the great battle of William the first against King Harold of England. The King's footmen far exceeding their enemies in number, began the charge, in small and scattering troops; lightly assailing where they could espy the weakest resistance. But the Duke's Army received them in close and firm order; so as upon the loss of many of the foremost, the residue began somewhat to retire. And now, whether the Duke had cause, or whether confidence the inseparable companion of courage persuaded him that he had cause; he supposed that he had the best of the field, and that the victory was even in his hand. But suddenly the King with his whole forces of horse charged him in flank, and with great violence broke into his battle. Herewith the footmen also returned, and turned them all to a ruinous rout. The Duke performed admirable effects of valour, and so did most of the English exiles: as fearing overthrow worse than death. But no courage was sufficient to sustain the disorder; the Normans on every hand were chased, ruffled, and beaten down. Hereupon the Duke's courage boiling in choler, he doubled many blows upon his enemies; more furiously driven, then well placed and set: and pressing up hardly among them, was suddenly engaged so far, that he could not possibly recover himself. So he was taken manfully fight, or as some other authors affirm, was beastly betrayed by his own followers. With him were also taken the Earl of Mortaigne, William Crispin, William Ferreis, Robert Estotivill, with four hundred men of arms, and ten thousand ordinary soldiers. The number of the slain on both sides, is not reported by any author; but all authors agree, that this was the most bloody medley that ever had been executed in Normandy before: portended as it is thought by a Comet, and by two full Moons, which late before were seen, the one in the East, and the other in the West. After this victory the King reduced Normandy entirely into his possession, and annexed it to the Realm of England. Then he built therein many Castles, and planted garrisons; and with no less wisdom assured that State, then with valour he had won it. When he had settled all things according to his judgement, he returned into England, brought with him his brother Robert, and committed him to safe custody in the Castle of Cardiff. But either by reason of his favourable restraint, or else by negligence or corruption of his keepers, he escaped away, and fled for his liberty as if it had been for his life. Notwithstanding this proved but a false favour, or rather a true flattery or scorn of Fortune. For being sharply pursued, he was taken again, sitting upon horseback; his horse legs fast locked in deep & tough clay. Then he was committed to strait and close prison, his eyes put out (as if he should not see his misery) and a sure guard set upon him. Thus he remained in desolate darkness; neither reverenced by any for his former greatness, not pitied for his present distress. Thus he continued about 27. years, in a life far more grievous than death; even until the year before the death of King Henry. So long was he a suitor in wooing of death: so long did the one brother overlive his good fortune, the other his good nature and disposition; esteeming it a fair favour, that the uttermost extremity was not inflicted. Albeit some writers do affirm, that the Duke's eyes were not violently put out, but that either through age or infirmity he fell blind: that he was honourably attended and cared for: that having digested in his judgement the worst of his case, the greatness of his courage did never descend to any base degree of sorrow or grief: that his brave behaviour did set a Majesty upon his dejected fortunes: that his noble heart like the Sun, did show greatest countenance in lowest state. And to this report I am the more inclinable, for that it agreeth best, both to the fair conditions, and to the former behaviours, and to the succeeding fortunes and felicities of the King: For assuredly he had a heart of manly clemency; and this was a punishment barbarously cruel: For which cause Constantine did L●…si qui●…▪ 〈◊〉 poenis. forbid, that the face of man, adorned with Celestial beauty, should be deformed for any offence. Others avow that he was never blind; but that it was the Earl of Mortaigne whose eyes were put out. And this seemeth to be confirmed, by that which Matth. Paris and Matth. Westm do report. That not long before the death of Robert, the King upon a festival day had a new rob of Scarlet brought unto him: the cape whereof being somewhat too straight for his head, he did tear a little in striving to put it on. And perceiving that it would not serve, he laid it aside and said: Let my brother Robert have this rob, for whose head it is fitter than for mine. When it was carried unto him, being than not perfectly in health, he espied the cracked place, and thereupon inquired, if any man had worn it before? The messenger declared the whole matter. Which when Robert heard, he took it for a great indignity, and said: I perceive now that I have lived too long, that my brother doth cloth me like his almoseman, with cast and torn garments. So he grew weary of his life: and his disease increasing with his discontentment, pined away, and in short time after died, and was buried at Gloucester. And this was the end of that excellent commander; brought to this game and gaze of fortune, after many traverses that he had trodden. He was for courage and direction inferior to none; but neither provident nor constant in his affairs, whereby the true end of his actions were overthrown. His valour had triumphed over desperate dangers: and verily he was no more settled in valour, then disposed to virtue and goodness; never wilfully or willingly doing evil, never but by error, as finding it disguised under some mask of goodness. His performances in arms had raised him to a high point of opinion for his prowess; which made him the more unhappy, as unhappy after a fall from high state of honour. He had one son named William, upon whose birth the mother died: of this William shall somewhat hereafter be said. And now, as Princes oftentimes do make advantage of the calamity of their neighbours, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. so upon this downfall of the Duke of Normandy, Fulke Earl of Anjou sharing for himself, seized upon Maine, and certain other places; made large waste, took great booties and spoils; not only out of ancient and almost hereditary hate against the hose of Normandy, but as fearing harm from the King of England, he endeavoured to harm him first. In like sort Baldwine Earl of Flanders declared in arms against the King for a yearly pension of 300. marks; the occasion of which demand was this. King William the first, in recompense of the aid which he received in his enterprise for England, from Baldwine 5. Earl of Flanders, paid him yearly three hundred marks, which after his death was continued to his son. Robert Earl of Flanders from a collateral line, demanded the same Pension; but it was denied him by K. Henry: wherefore Baldwine his son attempted now to recover it by Arms. With these, or rather as principal of these, Lewes the gross King of France, seeing his oversight in permitting Normandy to be annexed to the Realm of England, assembled a great army; and upon pretence of a trifling quarrel about the demolishing of the Castle of guysor's, declared William son to Robert Curtcuise for Duke of Normandy: and undertook to place him in possession of that state, which his unfortunate father had lost. And besides those open hostilities in Arms, Hugh the king's Chamberlain and certain others were suborned traitorously to kill the King: but the practice was in good time discovered, and the conspirators punished by death. Hereupon the King both with celerity and power answerable to the danger at hand, passed the Seas into Normandy: having first drawn to his assistance Theobald Earl of Champain, the Earls of Crecie, Pissaux, and Dammartine, who aspired to be absolute Lords within their territories, as were many other Princes at that time in France. These detained the French King in some tarriance in France, whilst the King of England either recovered or revenged his losses against the Earl of Anjou. At the last he was assailed in Normandy on three parts at once: by the Earl of Anjou from Maine, from Ponthieu by the Earl of Flanders, and by the French King between both. The King of England appointed certain forces to guard the passages against the Earl of Anjou: with directions to hold themselves within their strength, and not to adventure into the field. Against the Earl of Flanders he went in person; and in a sharp shock between them the Earl was defeated and hurt, and (as some Authors affirm) slain: albeit others do report, that he was afterwards slain in a battle between the two Kings of England and of France. After this he turned against Lewes' King of France, and fought with him before the town of Nice in Normandy; which town the French had surprised and taken from the King of England. This battle continued above the space of nine hours, with incredible obstinacy; the doubt of victory being no less great, than was the desire: and yet neither part so hasty to end, as not to stay for the best advantage. The first battle on both sides was hewn in pieces; valour of inestimable value was there cast away: much brave blood was lost; many men esteemed both for their place and worth, lay groaning and grinning under the heavy hand of death. The sad blows, the gristle wounds, the grievous deaths that were dealt that day, might well have moved any man to have said, That war is nothing else but inhuman manhood. The King's courage, guided with his Fortune, and guarded both with his strength and his skill, was never idle, never but working memorable effects. In all places his directions were followed by his presence; being witness both of the diligence and valour of every man, and not suffering any good advantage or advise for want of timely taking to be lost. He adventured so far in performing with his hand, that his armour in many places was battered to his body, and by reason of the sturdy strokes set upon his helm, he cast blood out of his mouth. But this was so far from dismaying his powers, that it did rather assemble and unite them: so as advancing his brave head, his fury did breathe such vigour into his arm, that his sword made way through the thickest throngs of his enemies, and he broke into them even to the last ranks. He was first seconded by the truly valiant; whose undaunted spirits did assure the best, and therewith contemn the very worst. Then came in they whom despair, the last of resolutions had made valiant; who discerned no means of hope for life, but by bold adventuring upon death. Lastly he was followed by all; being inflamed by this example to a new life of resolution. Generally, the swords went so fast, that the French unable to endure that deadly storm, were utterly disbanded and turned to flight. K. Henry after a bloody chase, recovered Nice; and with great triumph returned to Rouen. Afterwards he would often say, That in other battles he fought for victory, but in this for his life: and that he would but little joy in many such victories. Upon this event the King sent certain forces into France, to harrase the country, and to strike a terror into the enemy. The French King, besides the abatement of his power by reason of his late overthrow, was then preparing in Arms against Henry the Emperor, who intended to destroy Rheims: partly drawn on by Henry King of England, whose daughter he had taken to wife; but chiefly for that a Council had been there held against him by Pope Calixtus a French man, wherein the Emperor was declared enemy to the Church, and degraded from his Imperial dignity. This brought the English to a careless conceit, and to a loose and licentious demeanour in their action; a most assured token of some mischief at hand. And so, as they scattered and ranged after prey (as greedy men are seldom circumspect) they were suddenly set upon by Almaricke Earl of Mountfort, appointed by the French K. to defend the Country, & with no small execution put to the chase. The more they resisted, the greater was their loss: The sooner they fled, the more assured was their escape. And for that they were dispersed into many small companies, they had the better opportunity to save themselves. Many other like adventures were enterprised between the two Kings and their adherents; some in France, and some in Normandy; with large loss on both sides. But especially the King of France was most subject to harm; for that his country was the more ample, open and rich. The King of England held this advantage, that no advantage could be won against him: which in regard of the number, valour and greatness of his enemies, was a very honourable advantage indeed. At the last he made peace with the Earl of Anjou; taking the Earl's daughter to be wife to his son William, whom he had declared for successor in his estate; to whom all the Nobility and Prelates were sworn; and who seemed to want nothing through all his father's dominions, but only the name and Title of King. This sinew being cut from the King of France, and also for that Henry the Emperor made preparation of hostility against him, he fell likewise to agreement of peace. By the conditions whereof, William son to the King of England was invested into the Duchy of Normandy, doing homage for the same to the K. of France. In this peace was comprised on the part of the French K, William son to Robert Curtcuise, who had been declared Duke of Normandy. On the part of the king of England, the Earl of Champ●…igne and certain other Lords were comprised; who had either served or aided him against the king of France. After this the wars between the Emperor and the French king did forthwith dissolve. King Henry having happily finished these affairs, returned out of Normandy, and losing from Barbeflote, upon the 24. of November towards evening, with a prosperous gale arrived in England; where great preparation was made to entertain him with many well devised honours. His son William then duke of Normandy, and somewhat above 17. years of age, took another ship; and in his company went Mary his sister Countess of Perch, Richard his brother, begotten of a concubine as some affirm; and the Earl of Chester with his wife Lucy, who was the King's niece by his sister Adela. Also the young Nobility and best knights flocked unto him, some to discharge their duties, others to testify their love and respect. Of such passengers the ship received to the number of 140. besides 50. sailors which belonged unto her. So they loosed from land somewhat after the King; and with a gentle wind from the south-west, danced through the soft swelling floods. The sailors full of proud joy, by reason of their honourable charge; and of little fear or forecast, both for that they had been accustomed to dangers, and for that they were then well tippeled with wine; gave forth in a bravery, that they would soon outstrip the vessel wherein the King sailed. In the midst of this drunken jollity the ship struck against a rock, the head whereof was above water, not far from the shore. The passengers cried out, and the sailors laboured to wind or bear off the ship from the danger; but the labour was no less vain than the cry: for she leaned so stiffly against the rock, that the steerage broke, the sides cracked, and the▪ Sea gushed in at many breaches. Then was raised a lamentable cry within the ship; some yielding to the tyranny of despair, betook themselves (as in cases of extremity weak courages are wont) to their devotions▪ others employed all industry to save their lives, and yet more in duty to nature, then upon hope to escape: all bewailed the unfortunate darkness of that night, the last to the lives of so many persons both of honour and of worth. They had nothing to accompany them but their fears, nothing to help them but their wishes: the confused cries of them all, did much increase the particular astonishment of every one. And assuredly no danger dismayeth like that upon the seas; for that the place is unnatural to man. And further, the unusual objects, the continual motion, the desolation of all help or hope, will perplex the minds even of those who are best armed against discouragement. At the last the boat was hoist forth, and the King's son taken into it. They had cleared themselves from the danger of the ship, and might safely have rowed to land. But the young Prince hearing the shrill shrieks of his Sister Mary Countess of Perch, and of the Countess of Chester his cousin, crying after him, and craving his help; he preferred pity before safety, & commanded the boat to be rowed back to the ship for preseruatiou of their lives. But as they approached, the boat was suddenly so overcharged with those, who (struggling to break out of the arms of death) leapt at all adventures into it, that it sunk under them: and so all the company perished by drowning. Only one ordinary Sailor, who had been a butcher, by swimming all night upon the mast escaped to land; reserved as it may seem, to relate the manner of the misadventure. This ship raised much matter of novelty and discourse abroad; but never did ship bring such calamity to the Realm: especially for that it was judged, that the life of this Prince would have prevented those intestine wars, which afterwards did fall, between King Steven and Matild daughter to King Henry. The King was so overcharged with this heavy accident; that his reason seemed to be darkened, or rather drowned in sorrow. He caused the coasts a long time after to be watched; but scarce any of the bodies were ever found. Afterwards he took to wife Adalisia daughter to Godfrey Duke of Louvain, of the house of Lorraine: She was crowned at Westminster by Roger B. of Salisbury, because Radulph Archbishop of Canterbury, by reason of his palsy was unable to perform that office. And yet because Roger was not appointed by him, the doting old man fell into such a pelting chafe, that he offered to strike the King's Crown from his head. And albeit this Lady was in the principal flower both of her beauty and years, yet the King had no issue by her. Now as after a storm a few gentle drops do always fall, before the weather turns perfectly fair; so after these great wars in France, certain easy conflicts did ensue: neither dangerous nor almost troublesome to the King. For Robert Earl of Mellent, who for a long time had continued both a sure friend, and most close and private in counsel with the King; upon some sudden either discontentment on his part, or dislike on the Kings, so estranged himself, as it was interpreted to be a revolt: being charged with intent, to advance William, cousin to William, son to Robert Curtcuise, to the Duchy of Normandy. Wherefore the King besieged, and at last took his chief Castle called Pont. Audomer; and at the same time environed the tower of Rouen with a wall. He also repaired and fortified the Castles of Caen, Arches, Gisore, Falace, Argentine, Donfronç, Oxine, Aubrois, Nanroye, juta, and the Town of Vernone in such sort, as at that time, they were esteemed impregnable, and not to be forced by any enemy; except God or gold. In the mean time the Earl of Mellent, with Hugh Gervase his son, and Hugh de Mountfort his sister's son, calling such as either alliance or friendship did draw unto them; besides those whom youthful either age or minds had filled with unlimited desires; whom discontentment also or want did vainly feed with hungry hopes; entered into Normandy in arms: being so transported with desire to hurt, and troubled with fear of receiving hurt, that they had never free scope of judgement, either to prepare or manage the means to hurt. They were no sooner entered the Confines of Normandy, but William Tankeruill the king's Chamberlain came against them, bravely appointed, and resolute to fight. The very view of an enemy turned their evil guided fury into a fear: and whatsoever they did (proceeding rather from violence of passion than ground of reason) made them stumble whilst they ran, and by their own disorders hindered their own desires. So with small difficulty they were surprised and taken, and brought to the King; who committed them to straight prison at Rouen. An ordinary event when rage runneth faster, than judgement and power are able to hold pace. About this time Charles Earl of Flanders as he was at his devotions in the Church of S. Donatus in Brussels, was suddenly slain by conspiracy of his own people. And because he left no issue in life, Lewes' King of France invested William son to Robert Curtcuis late Duke of Normandy, in the Earldom of Flanders; as descended from Earl Baldwine surnamed the Pious, whose daughter Matilde was wife to King William the first, and grandmother to this William. This he did, not so much in favour to William, or in regard of his right, as to set up an assured enemy against King Henry: an enemy not only of singular expectation, but proof: whose courage was apt to undertake any danger; whether for glory, or for revenge. And herein his project did nothing fail. For no sooner was the Earl advanced to that estate, but he raised a great hostility against the King of England: as well to recover the Duchy of Normandy, as either to relieve or to revenge the hard captivity of his father. In this war the Earl did win a great opinion, both for judgement to discern, and for valour to execute what he did discern: showing himself in nothing inferior to his uncle the king, but only in treasure and command of men. For this cause he craved supply of Lewes king of France; who, as he was the first that blew the coal, so was he always ready to put fuel to the flame. But the King of England entered France with a strong Army, where his sword ranged and raged without resistance: and yet more in prosecution of prey, then in execution of blood. He lodged at Hesperdune the space of 8. days; no less quietly, no less safely, then if he had been in the principal City of his kingdom. By this means he kept the French King from sending succour to the Earl of Flanders. And in the mean season drew Theodoricke Earl of Holsteine, nephew to Robert who had been Earl of Flanders, and Arnoldus sisters son to Earl Charles, not long before slain, to invade Earl William: Both pretending title to his dignity, both bringing several armies, consisting of men, tough in temper, and well exercised in affairs of the field. Theodorick upon his first approach took Bruges, Ipres and Gandt; either willingly yielding, or with small resistance: and upon the neck thereof Arnoldus took the strong town of S. Omer. Earl William being thus set as it were between the beetle and the block, was nothing dejected, nothing dismayed, either in courage or in hope. And first he went against Arnoldus, with a small company, but with such a lively countenance of a Soldier, that Arnoldus fell to capitulation for his safe departure; and so returned home as if he had been vanquished. Then the Earl made head against Theodorick, and gave him battle, albeit far inferiors to him, both for number and furniture of his men. The fight between them was long, furious and doubtful. The Germans confident in their number, which made them trust the less to their valour: the Flemings rather desperate then resolute, upon importance of their danger. And indeed it often happeneth, that good success at the first doth occasion the overthrow of many great actions: by working in the one side a confidence in themselves, and contempt of their enemies; and by making the other more earnest and entire. So at the last the violent valour of the Earl, well followed with the brave and resolute rage of his Soldiers, did such effects, that the Germans were shaken and disordered, many slain in the field, and the residue chased out of Flanders. The Earl having now no enemy in open field, laid siege to the castle of Alhurst, which was defended against him by the English. The assaults were so lively enforced, and with such variety of invention and devise; that a wide way was opened through all impediments, and the defendants were constrained by many necessities, to desire fair conditions of yielding. This whilst the Earl delayed to grant, he received in a certain light conflict a wound in his hand, whereof in a short time after he died: having first raised himself very high in opinion with all men, for his courage, industry and skill in Arms. And thus Duke Robert and his son William were brought to their unhappy ends; rather through the malice of their Fortune, then through any bad merit or insufficiency in themselves: whereby the Duchy of Normandy, which had been both the cause and the seat of very great wars, was then strongly settled in possession of King Henry. He was never infested with domestical wars; which in regard of those tumultuous times, is a manifest argument both of his justice and providence; the one not giving cause, the other no hope, for his subjects to rebel. The King of Scots did homage unto him; for what territories I do not determine. Morcard King of Ireland and some of his successors were so appliable unto him, that they seemed to depend upon his command. The Welsh who hated idleness and peace alike, did strive beyond their strength to pull their feet out of the mire of subjection; but in loose straggling companies, without either discipline or head. For this cause he made divers expeditions into Wales, where he had many bicker, and put many chases upon them: but found nothing worthy the name, either of enemy or of war. Wherefore by maintaining garrisons, and light troops of Soldiers, he consumed the most obstinate, and reduced the rest to his allegiance: receiving the sons of their Nobility for hostages. At that time many Flemings inhabited in England; of whom some came over in the time of King William the first, by occasion of his marriage with Matild daughter to Baldwine their Earl: but the greatest part came under the reign of this King Henry, by reason that Flanders at that time by irruption of the sea, was in many places overflown. The King was willing to entertain them, because they brought with them both industry and trades; because they made the Country both populous and rich. For in making a place populous, it is thereby also made rich: draw people to a place, and plenty will follow; drive away people, and it is undone. They were first planted near the river of Tweed; besides those who dispersed into divers Towns. But at this time the King sent many of them into Rose in Pembrokeshire, whose progeny did ever since maintain themselves in good condition against the Welsh: being a people even at this day distinguished from all other bordering upon them, both in language, and in nature, and in fashion of life. On a time as the king marched through Powesland in South-Wales, he came to certain straits, through which his main army could not pass, by reason of their 〈◊〉 and train of carriage: wherefore he sent the greatest part a further way about, and himself with a small company took the nearer way thorough those straits. When he was well entered, he was charged very sharply, but rudely, and disorderedly by the Welsh; who having the advantage both in number and in place, did much annoy him from the higher ground; but durst not approach to close fight at hand. The King himself was smitten with an arrow full upon the breast: whereat he swore By our Lord's death (which was his usual oath) that it was no Welsh arm which shot that arrow. Many of his men also were hurt, and the residue strangely disordered; the amazement being far greater than the distress. But the king with a firm countenance retired in time, the enemies not daring to pursue him any further, than they might be assured by advantage of place. Then he sent peaceably unto them, and after some overtures, brought them to agree, that for a thousand head of cattle the passage should be left open unto him. IN this politic government he so managed the State, that neither subjects wanted justice, nor Prince obedience. He repaired many defects, he reform many abuses, which would in the mean time enfeeble, and at last oppress the Commonwealth. He ordered his affairs with such moderation, that he was not only well obeyed by his subjects, but highly honoured and respected by foreign Princes: whereby it appeared, that learning may be both a guard and guide to Princes, if it be not so immoderately affected, as to bereave them, either of the mind, or time for action. He used much severity in punishing offenders; severity, the life of justice; of justice, the most assured preserver of States: affording no more favour for the most parr, then dead merciless law did allot. Against the eves he provided, that no money should save them from hanging. He ordained that counterfeitures of money should lose both their eyes, and be deprived of their privy parts. He took away the deceit which had been occasioned by variety of measures, and made a measure by the length of his own arm: which hath been Commonly used ever since by the name of a yard. And whereas there are two infallible signs of a diseased State; excess in eating, and in attire; which could never be restrained by penalties or fear, but the more the people are therein forbidden, the more are they ravished into riot and vanity: the King by two means cast a general restraint upon them both: by example, and by reproof: which by reason of the inclination of men to imitate and please their Prince, have always been of greater force than laws, to reform abuses in that kind. He much abhorred excess in eating and drinking, and was so moderate in his own diet, that he seemed to feed only for necessity of nature. He both used and commended civil modesty in apparel: especially he could not endure an absurd abuse of men in those times, in wearing long hair like unto women. And when their own hair failed, they set artificial Peruques, with long locks upon their heads; whereas by censure of the Apostle, it is reproachful for men to wear 1. Cor. 11. 14. long hair. He discharged his Court of many loose lascivious persons; affirming, that they were no good instruments of the kingdom; as being in peace chargeable, and unprofitable for war. During his absence in Normandy, which was sometimes three or four years together, he committed the government of his Realm to Roger Bishop of Salisbury: A man harmless in life, in mind flourishing and fresh, in intention upright: most wise in taking, and most faithful and fortunate in giving advise. He had governed the King's expenses of house when he was but a Prince of private estate; whereby he gained that reputation for integrity and skill, which advanced him to a higher trust. He was Doctor of the Canon and Civil laws, as most of the Bishops at that time were, and did bear the title and name of justiciarius totius Angliae. He built the devices in Wiltshire, the Castles of Malmesburie and Shireburne. He repaired the Castle of Salisbury, and environed the same with a wall; he built the stately Church at Salisbury, destined to a longer life than any of his other works. And further, by reason of the Kings much abode in Normandy, the provisions of his house were valued at certain prices, and received in money, to the great contentment and ease of the people. In these times were mighty woods about the place where the two high ways Watling and Ikening do join together; which woods were a safe covert and retreat for many robbers, who much infested those high ways. The most famous thief among them, was named Dunne a famous thief. Dunne, a man mischievous without mercy, equally greedy of blood and of spoil, the first infamy of his name: He was in a sort as the most villainously adventurous and vile; (for in lewd actions, the worst are greatest) Commander over the rest, and of him the place was called Dunstable. To repress this annoyance, the King caused the woods to be cut down, built there a Borough, to which he granted Fair & Market, and that the Burgesses should be so free as any other Burgesses within the Realm. He erected there also a Palace for himself, and also a fair Church or Priory; whereto he gave large privileges and endowments. By these means he made the place first populous, and consequently both plentiful and safe. Many other royal works he performed, some for Religion, as the Religious buildings specified before; some for strength, as divers Castles in Normandy, in Wales, and some also in England: and namely the Castle of Warwick, of Bristol, the Castle College and Town of Windsor on the hill, about a mile distant from the old Town of Windsor; which afterward was much increased by King Edward the third, and after him by many Kings and Queens succeeding. Many Palaces also he built for ornament & pleasure. And to this end he maintained his Park at Woodstock, wherein he preserved with great pleasure divers sorts of strange beasts; which because he did with many demonstrations of pleasure both accept and esteem▪ were liberally sent unto him from other Princes. He first instituted the form of the high Court of Parliament, as now it is in use. For before his time, only certain of the Nobility and Prelates of the Realm were called to consultation about the most important affairs of state: he caused the commons also to be assembled, by Knights and Burgesses of their own appointment, and made that Court to consist of three parts; the Nobility, the Clergy, and the Common people; representing the whole body of the Realm. The first Council of this sort was held at Salisbury, upon the 19 day of April, in the 16. year of his reign. His severity in justice, the very heart string of a Commonwealth, his heavy hand in bearing down his enemies, in disabling those from working him harm whom he knew would never love him at the heart; was traduced by some under terms of cruelty. And yet was he always more mindful of benefits then of wrongs; and in offences of highest nature, even for bearing Arms against him, he punished oftentimes by imprisonment or exile, and not by death. When Matilde his daughter was given in marriage to Henry the fifth Emperor, he took 3. shillings of every hide of land throughout the Realm: which being followed by succeeding Kings, did grow to a custom of receiving aid, whensoever they gave their daughters in marriage. For albeit the same be found in the great Custumier of Normandy, yet was it never practised in England before. This happened in the fifteenth year of his reign: and he never had the like contribution after, but one for furnishing his wars in France. So the people were not charged with many extraordinary taxations, but their ordinary fines and payments were very great; and yet not very grievous unto them. For that they saw them expended, not in wanton waist, not in loose and immoderate liberality, but either upon necessity, or for the honour & dignity of the state: wherein the preservation or advancement of the common good, made particular burdens not almost sensible. But both his actions and exactions were most displeasing to the Clergy; the Clergy did often times not only murmur, but struggle and oppose against his actions: as taking their liberties to be infringed, and their state diminished; by abasing their authority, and abating both their riches and power. When any Bishopric or Abbey fell void, he did apply the revenues thereof for supply of his necessities and wants: and for that cause kept some of them many years together vacant in his hands. He would not permit appeals to Rome. Canons were not of force within the Realm, unless they were confirmed by the King. Legates from the Pope were not obeyed; and no man would come to their convocations. In so much as one of the Pope's Legates in France did excommunicate all the Priests of Normandy, because they would not come to his Synod. For this cause the King sent the Bishop of Exeter to Rome, albeit he was both blind and in years, to treat with the Pope concerning that business. He gave investitures to Prelates, by Cross, Ring and Staff: and is charged to have received of some of them great sums of money for their places. About this time the marriage of Priests was forbidden in England; but the King for money permitted them to retain their wives, and in the end set an imposition in that respect upon every Church throughout the Realm. It availed not any man to say, that he had no purpose to keep a wife: he must pay for a faculty to keep a wife if he would. For these causes they fastened the infamy of covetousness upon him. For these causes and especially for investing and receiving homage of Prelates, he had a stiff strife with Anselm Archb. of Canterbury. For the King said, that it was against the custom of his ancestors, it could not stand with the safety of his State; that the Prelates, who at that time held the principal places both of trust and command in his kingdom, who in very deed ruled all the rest, should not be appointed only by himself; should not swear faith and allegiance unto him; should either be advanced or depend upon any foreign Prince. On the other side Anselm refused, not only to confirm, but to communicate or common friendly with those who had been invested by the King: reproaching them, as abortives and children of destruction; traducing the King also, as a defiler of Religion, as a deformer of the beauty and dignity of the Church. Hereupon by appointment of the King, they were confirmed & consecrated by the Archb of York. Only William Gifford, to whom the K▪ had given the Bishopric of Winchester, refused Consecration from the Archb. of York; for which cause the King deprived him of all his goods, and banished him out of the Realm. Then the King required Anselm to do him homage, and to be present with him at giving investitures; as Lanfranck his predecesior had been with King William his father. Against these demands Anselm objected the decrees of the Council lately held at Rome; whereby all Lay-people were excommunicate, who should confer any Spiritual promotions; and all those accursed, who for Ecclesiastical dignities, should subject themselves under the homage or service of any Lay-man. Hereupon messengers were dispatched from both parties to the Pope: who determined altogether in favour of Anselm, or rather in favour of himself. Notwithstanding the king desisted not to urge Anselm, to swear homage unto him. Anselm required, that the Pope's letters should be brought forth; and he would do as by them he should be directed. The King answered, that he had nothing to do with the Pope's letters; that this was a Sovereign right of his Crown; that if any man may pull these Royalties from his Crown, he may easily pull his Crown from his head: that therefore Anselm must do him homage, or else depart out of his kingdom. Anselm answered, that he would not depart out of the Realm, but go home to his Church, and there see, who would offer him violence. Then were messengers again sent to the Bishop of Rome; two Bishops from the King, and two monks from Anselm. The King wrote to the Pope, first congratulating his advancement to the Sea of Rome; then desiring the continuance of that amity which had been between their predecessors; Lastly, he tendered all honour and obedience, which in former times the Kings of England did yield to the See of Rome; desiring again, that he might not be abridged of such usages as his father did enjoy: concluding, that during his life, he would not suffer the dignities of his Crown to be impaired; and if he should so do, yet the Nobility and common people of the Realm would in no case permit it, but would rather recede from obedience to his See. The Pope wrote back again to Anselm; that for one man's pleasure he would not reverse the decrees of former Popes; and therefore gave him both encouragement & charge, to continue constant, and to see them observed in every point. He directed also his letters to the King, which the King did suppress: but his Ambassadors declared by word, that the Pope permitted investitures to the King, so as in other things he would execute the Office of a good Prince. Anselm called for the Pope's letters. The King answered, that his Bishops were to be credited before the monks, who were disabled either for voice or testimony in Secular affairs. Anselm said, that he was desirous to yield unto the King, but he durst not although it should cost him his head, unless he had a warrant from Rome: and therefore he would send thither again, to have a more full and ample answer. The King and divers of the Nobility persuaded him to go in person, to travail to the Pope, and to travail with him, for the quiet of the Church, and of his country. With much ado he was entreated, and so set forth on his journey towards Rome: and after followed the king's Ambassador william Warlewast, new elect Bishop of Exeter. When the Bishop came to the Pope's presence, he declared unto him; what great commodities did rise out of England to the See of Rome; that the Investing of Prelates had been an ancient right to the crown of that Realm; that as the King was by nature liberal, so was he stout and resolute in courage▪ that it should be a great dishonour to him, who in power exceeded any of his ancestors, if he should not maintain the dignities which they held; that for this cause the Pope should do well to prefer to his consideration, what prejudice might follow to his Estate, if he should remit nothing of the severities of those Canons which had been lately made. The Pope gave an attentive ear, and seemed to pause upon that which had been said. Which the King's Ambassador taking to be a degree of yielding, did more earnestly insist, and said: that the King his master would not for the Crown of his Realm, lose the authority of investing his Prelates. Hereto the Pope with a starting voice and countenance answered; Neither will I lose the disposing of spiritual promotions in England, for the King's head that beareth the Crown; before God (said he) I advow it. His flattering followers applauded this speech, as proceeding from a magnanimous courage, or rather as some flash of divine inspiration: and the King's Ambassador not a little abashed, was content to descend to lower demands. In the end it was ordered, that the King should be restored to certain customs which had been used by his father; but that all they who had been invested by the King, should be excommunicate, & that their satisfaction and absolution should be committed unto Anselm. Thus Anselm, with full sail of victory and joy returned towards England; but the King's Ambassador stayed behind, to assay whether by any means he could work the Pope to a milder mind. But when he saw that he travailed in vain, he followed Anselm, and overtook him at Placentia, and there delivered unto him certain private instructions from the King: that if he would come into England, and behave himself as his predecessors had done towards the King's father, he should be welcome; otherwise, you are wise enough (said he) you know what I mean, and may easily conjecture what will ensue. With these words he flung suddenly away; by occasion whereof his speeches settled with a more strong impression, and multiplied many doubtful constructions. So the Ambassador returned to the King; but Anselm went to Lions, and remained there a year and half. In the mean time much posting was made between England, Lions, and Rome; but nothing was concluded, nothing could please: For neither the Pope would yield to the King, nor the King to Anselm. At the last Anselm threatened to excommunicate the King: whereof the King being advertised by the Countess Adela his sister, he desired her to come to him into Normandy, and to bring Anselm with her. Here the King restored Anselm to his former possessions; but his return into England was respited, until the Pope had confirmed certain things which Anselm did assure. So the King took his passage into England, and Anselm abode at the Abbey of Beck. Then were dispatched for Rome, William Warlewast mentioned before, and Baldwine Abbot of Ramsey; by whose means the controversy was composed between the King and the Pope; that the King should receive homage of Bishops elect, but should not invest them by Staff and Ring. After this the king went into Normandy, and there agreed to Anselm in these points following. 1 That all his Churches which had been made tributary to King William the second should be set free▪ 2 That the King should require nothing of the said Churches, whilst the Sea should remain vacant. 3 That such Priests as had given money to the King to retain their wives should surcease from their function the space of three years; and that the king should take no more after such manner. 4 That all such goods fruits and possessions as the King had taken from the Sea of Canterbury, should be restored to him at his return into England. Thus Anselm returned into England, and after a short time the king followed; having taken his brother prisoner, and subdued Normandy to his subjection. Forthwith Anselm by permission of the K. assembled a great Council of the Clergy at Westminster; wherein he so wrought with the King, that at length (albeit not without great difficulty) it was newly decreed; that no temporal man should give investiture with Cross, or with Ring or with Pastoral staff. Also he directed 〈◊〉▪ to the Priests of his Province, that they and their wives should never meet within one house; that they should not keep any woman in their house, but such as were next in kindred unto them; That he who held his wife and presumed to say Mass within eight days after, should solemnly be excommunicate. That all Archdeacon's and their Officials should be sworn, not to wink at the meetings of Priests and their wives for any respect, and if they would not take this oath, then to lose their office; that such Priests as would forsake their wives, should cease forty days from ministration in their office, and perform such penance as should be enjoined them by their Bishop. The execution of these Canons importing both a great and sudden alteration, occasioned much disquiet and disorder in many parts of the Realm. In the same Council the censure of Excommunication was cast upon those, who did exercise the vile vice of Sodomitry: and it was further decreed, that the same sentence should be published every Sunday in all the parish Churches of England. But afterward it was esteemed fit, that this general excommunication should be repealed. The pretence was, for that the prohibiting, yea, the public naming of that vice might inflame the hearts of ungracious persons with desire unto it. But wise men conjectured, that after this severe restraint of marriage in the Clergy, it did grow so frequent and familiar among them, that they would not give way to so general a punishment. It is certain that in this King's days Io. Cremensis a Priest Cardinal, by the King's licence came into England, and held a solemn Synod at London; where having most sharply enueighed against the marriage of Priests, the night following he was taken in adultery, and so with shame departed the Realm. It is certain also that Anselm, the most earnest enforcer of single life, died not a Virgin; as by the lamentation which he wrote for the loss thereof it may appear. Not long after Anselm died, being of the age of 70. years. He had bestowed much money on Christ's Church in Canterbury; as well in buildings, as in ornaments, and increase of possessions. Other works of charge he left not many; neither in very deed could he, by reason of his often banishments, and the seasures of the revenues of his Church. But this he did more than liberally supply by the eternal labours of his pen. After his decease the archbishopric remained void five years: during which time, the King applied the fruits to himself. The like he did to other vacant Churches; and compounded also with Priests for retaining their wives; and made his profit by Ecclesiastical persons and livings, more largely and freely than he had done before. For which cause it is not unlike that the imputation of covetousness was fixed upon him. At the last Radulph Bishop of Rochester was advanced to the See of Canterbury; and notwithstanding all former agreements and decrees, the King invested him with Ring and with Staff. But howsoever we may either excuse or extenuate the two vices of cruelty and covetousness, wherewith he is charged, his immoderate excess in lust can no ways be denied, no ways defended: And when age had somewhat abated in him the heat of that humour, yet was he too much pleased with remembrance of his youthful follies. For this vice it is manifest, as well by the sudden and unfortunate loss of his children, as for that he was the last King by descent from males of the Norman race, that the hand of God pressed hard upon him. As Radulph succeeded Anselm in the See of Canterbury. So after the death of Thomas, Thurstine the King's Chapplaine was elected Archb. of York. And because he refused to acknowledge obedience to the See of Canterbury, he could not have his Consecration, but was deprived of his dignity by the King. Hereupon he took his journey to Rome, complained to the Pope, and from him returned with a letter to the King: that the putting of a Bishop elect from his Church, without judgement, was against divine justice, against the decrees of holy Fathers: that the Pope intended no prejudice to either Church, but to maintain the constitution which S. Gregory, the Apostle of the English Nation, had established between them: that the Bishop elect should be received to his Church, and if any question did rise between the two Churches, it should be handled before the King. Upon occasion of this letter a solemn assembly was called at Salisbury, where the variance between the two Prelates was much debated. Radulph would not give Imposition of hands to Thurstine, unless he would profess obedience. Thurstine said, that he would gladly embrace his benediction, but profess obedience to him he would not. The King signified to Thurstine, that without acknowledgement of subjection to the Archb. of Canterbury, he should not be Consecrated Archb. of York. Thurstine replied nothing; but renounced his dignity, and promised to make no more claim unto it. Not long after, Calixtus Bishop of Rome assembled a Council at Rheims; and Thurstine desired licence of the King to go to that Council. This he obtained under faithful promise, that he should there attempt nothing to the prejudice of the Church of Canterbury. In the mean time the King dealt secretly with the Pope, that Thurstine should not be consecrated by him. This the Pope did faithfully assure; and yet by means of some of his Cardinals, whom Thurstine had wrought to be suitors for him; by reason also of his hate against Radulph, for taking investiture from the King; The Pope was drawn to give him consecration, and there with the Pall. For this cause the King was displeased with Thurstine, and forbade him to return into the Realm. After this, the Pope came to guysor's, to which place the King went unto him; and desired that he would not send any Legates into England, except the King should so require. The reason was, for that certain Legates had come into England lately before, to wit, one Guid●…, and another named Anselm, and another called Peter; who had demeaned themselves, not as Pillars of the Church, but as Pillagers of all the Realm. Also he required that he might retain all such customs, as his ancestors had used in England and in Normandy. The Pope upon promise that the King should aid him against his enemies, yielded to these demands: and required again of the King, to permit Thurstine to return with his favour into England. The King excused himself by his oath. The Pope answered, that he might and would dispense with him for his oath. The King craved respite, affirming that he would advise with his Counsel, and then signify to the Pope what he should resolve. So in short time he declared to the Pope, that for love to him, Thurstine should be received both into the Realm and to his Church: upon condition, that he should profess subjection to the Sea of Canterbury, as in former times his predecessors had done▪ otherwise (said he) so long as I shall be King of England, he shall never sit Archb●…shop of York. The year following the Pope directed his letters to the King, and likewise to Radulph. And herewith he interdicted both the Church of Canterbury and the Church of York, with all the Parish Churches of both Provinces; from Divine service, from Burial of the dead, from all other offices of the Church; except only baptizing of children, and absolution of those who shall lie at the point of death: unless within one month after the receipt of the same letters, Thurstine should be received to the Sea of York, without acknowledging subjection to the Sea of Canterbury. It was further signified to the King, that he should also be excommunicate, unless he would consent to the same. Upon these letters Thurstine was sent for, and reconciled to the King, and quietly placed in his Church at York. And thus when the Bishops of Rome had gained absolute superiority over the state of the Church, even for managing external actions and affairs (which seem to be a part of civil government) there wanted nothing but either a weak Prince, or a factious Nobility, or a headstrong tumultuous people, to give him absolute superiority over all. In the second year of this Kings reign the Cities of Gloucester and Winchester were for the most part wasted with fire. In the fourth year a blazing star appeared, and four circles were seen about the Sun. The year next following the King prevailed much in Normandy, and so did the Sea in Flanders: insomuch as a great part of that Country lay buried in the waters. In the seventh year a blazing star appeared: and upon thursday night before Easter, two full Moons were seen, one in the East, and the other in the West. The same year Robert Duke of Normandy was taken & brought prisoner into England. In the tenth year the Abbey of Elie was made a Bishop's Sea, and Cambridge shire was appointed for the Diocese thereof. In regard whereof, the King gave the manor of Spalding to the Bishop of Lincoln, for that the shire of Cambridge was formerly under the jurisdiction of Lincoln. The same year a Comet appeared after a strange fashion. About Shrewsburie was a great earthquake. The water of Trent was dried up at Nottingham the space of a mile, from one of the clock until three: so as men might pass over the Channel on foot. Wars ensued against the Earl of Anjou; a great mortality of men; a murrain of beasts both domestic and of the field: yea, the ●…oules perished in great abundance. In the 13. year the City of Worcester, and therein the chief Church, the Castle, with much people were consumed with fire. A pig was farrowed with a face like a child. A chicken was hatched with four legs. The year next ensuing the river of Medeway so failed for many miles, that in the midst of the channel the smallest boats could not float. In the Thames also was such defect of water, that between the Tower and the Bridge many men and children did wade over on foot. This happened by reason of a great ebb in the Ocean, which laid the sands bore many miles from the shore, and so continued one whole day. Much rage and violence of weather ensued, and a blazing star. The City of Chichester with the principal Monastery was burnt. The year next following almost all the Bridges in England being then of timber, by reason of a hard Winter were borne down with Ice. In the 17. year the town of Peterborough with the stately Church were burned to the ground. The City of Bath also was much ruined and defaced with fire. In March there happened fearful lightning, and in December grievous thunder and hail. The Moon at both times seemed to be turned into blood, by reason of the evil qualitied vapours through which it gave light. The year following, Mathild the Queen departed this life▪ a woman in piety, chastity, modesty, and all other virtues nothing inferior to her mother; but in learning and judgement far beyond her: who did not act, nor speak, nor scarce think any thing, but first it was weighed by wisdom and virtue. When the king desired her in marriage, for the public good and tranquillity of the State, in reducing the Saxon blood to the Crown; she first modestly, then earnestly refused the offer; showing no less magnanimity in despising honours, than others do in affecting them. But when she was not so much persuaded as importuned to forsake her profession, she is reported by some to have taken the matter so to heart, that she cursed such issue as she should bring forth: which curse did afterwards lie heavy upon them. For her son William perished by shipwreck, and her daughter Matild was never void of great vexations. As she travailed over the river of Lue, at the Old-foord near London, she was well washed, and somewhat endangered in her passage: whereupon he caused two Stone-bridges to be built over the same river, one at the head of the town of Stratford, the other over another stream thereof, commonly called Channelsbridge; and paved the way between them with gravel. She gave also certain manours, and a mill called Wiggon mill, for repairing of the same bridges and way. These were the first Stone-bridges that were made in England. And because they were arched like a bow, the town of Stratford was afterwards called Bow. In the 20. year, a great earthquake happened, in the month of September. In the 22. year, the City of Gloucester, with the principal Monastery was fired again. The year next following, the City of Lincoln was for the most part burned down, and many persons perished with the rage of the flame. In the 27. year, the King received an oath of the chief of the Prelates and Nobility of the Realm; that after his death, they should maintain the kingdom against all men for his daughter Matild, in case she should survive, and the king not leave issue male in life. In the 30. year, the City of Rochester was much defaced with fire, even in the presence and view of the King. The year next following the oath to Matild was received again. About this time the King was much troubled with fearful dreams; which did so affright him, that he would often leap out of his bed, and lay hand on his sword, as if it were to defend himself. This year as he returned out of Normandy into England, when he had been carried not far from land, the wind began to rise, and the Sea swollen somewhat big. This weather did almost suddenly increase to so dangerous a storm, that all expected to be cast away. The King, dismayed the more by his sons mishap, reconciled himself to God; and vowed to reform many errors of his life, if he did escape. So after his arrival, he went to the Monastery of S Edmund; and there both ratified and renewed the promise he had made. After this he was better ordered in his actions; he erected a Bishopric at Caerlile, and endowed it with many honours: he caused justice indifferently to be administered; and eased the people of the tribute called Dane-guilt. In the 32. year, Matilde daughter to the King was delivered of a son, who was named Henry. Hereupon the king assembled his Nobility at Oxeford, where he did celebrate his feast of Easter; and there ordained, that she and her heirs should succeed him in the kingdom. And albeit they were often sworn to this appointment; albeit Stephen Earl of Bloise was the first man who took that oath: yet was he the first who did rise against it; yet did many others also join with him in his action. For oaths are commonly trodden under foot, when they lie in the way, either to honour or revenge. The same year the City of London was very much defaced with fire. The year next following, many prodigies happened, which seemed to portend the death of the King, or rather the troublesome times which did thereupon ensue. In the month of August, the Sun was so deeply eclipsed, that by reason of the darkness of the air, many stars did plainly appear. The second day after this defect of light, the earth trembled with so great violence, that many buildings were shaken down. Malmesb. saith, that the house wherein he sat, was lift up with a double remove, and at the third time settled again in the proper place. The earth in divers places yielded forth a hideous noise; It cast forth flames at certain rifts divers days together, which neither by water nor by any other means could be suppressed. During the time of the eclipse mentioned before, the King was traversing the sea into Normandy; whither he usually went, sometimes every year, but every third year at the furthest. Here he spent the whole year following, in ordering affairs of State, and in visiting every corner of the Country. He never gave greater contentment to the people, as well by his gifts, as by his gentle and courteous behaviour: he never received greater contentment from them, by the lively expressing of their love. But nothing did so much affect him with joy, as that his daughter Matild had brought forth other two sons, Geoffrey and William▪ whereby he conceived, that the succession of his issue to the Crown of England was so well backed, that he needed not to trouble his thoughts with any fear that his heirs would fail. At the last he began to languish a little and droop in health; and neither feeling nor fearing any great cause, he road on hunting, to pass it over with exercise and delight. Herewith being somewhat cheered, he returned home, and eat of a Lamprey, albeit against his Physicians advise; which meat he always loved, but was never able well to digest. After this, and happily upon this vicious feeding, he fell into a fever; which increased in him by such dangerous degrees, that within seven days it led him to the period of his life. He died upon the first of December, in the 67. year of his age: when he had reigned 35. years and four months, wanting one day. His bowels and eyes were buried at Rouen: The rest of his body was stuffed with salt, wrapped up in Ox hides, and brought over into England; and with honourable exequys buried in the Monastery of Reading, which he had founded. His Physician who took out his brains, by reason of the intolerable stinch which breathed from them, in short time after ended his life. So of all that King Henry slew, this Physician was the last. He had by his first wife a son named William, who perished by shipwreck; and Matild a daughter, who was espoused to the Emperor Henry the 5. when she was scarce six years old, and at the age of eleven years was married unto him. When she had been married unto him twelve years, he died; and she returned to the King her father, both against her own mind, and against the desire of the greatest Princes of the Empire: who in regard of her wise and gracious behaviour, were suitors to the King more than once, to have her remain as Empress among them. But the king would not consent to their entreaty: For that she was the only heir to his Crown. Then many great Princes desired her in marriage. But the King bestowed her upon Geoffrey, son to Fulke Earl of Anjou: somewhat against her own liking, but greatly to the surety of his estate in France. By him she had Henry, who afterwards was King of England. Further, the King had by a Concubine, Richard a son, and Mary a daughter; who were lost upon the sea with their brother William. By another Concubine he had a son named Robert, whom he created Earl of Gloucester: a man for valour of mind and ability of body inferior to none; in counsels so advised, as was fit for a right Noble commander. By his faith, industry, and felicity chiefly, his sister Matild did afterwards resist and overbear, both the forces and fortunes of King Stephen. He is reported to have had 12. other bastards; which were of no great either note or continuance, according to that saying of the Wise man: Bastard plants take no deep Sapien. 4. 3. roots. This King in the beginning of his Reign made many favourable laws: And namely, That he would reserve no possessions of the Church upon their vacancies: that the heirs of his Nobility should possess their father's lands without redemption from him, and that the Nobility likewise should afford the like favour to their Tenants: that Gentlemen might give their daughters and kinsewomen in marriage without his licence, so it were not to his enemy: that the widow should have her jointure and not be compelled to marry against her own liking: that the mother or next of kindred should be Guardian of the lands of her children: that all debts to the Crown and certain offences also should be remitted. But these laws afterwards were but slenderly observed. Three virtues were most famous in him; wisdom, courage, and sweetness of speech. By the last he gained much favour from the people. By the other two he purchased, both peace at home, and victory abroad. He was noted also for some vices: but out of doubt they were far exceeded by his virtues. And for these vices also, being himself of a pleasant disposition, he was well pleased with pleasant reproofs. Guymund his Chaplain (observing that unworthy men for the most part were advanced to the best dignities of the Church) as he celebrated Divine service before him, and was to read these words out of S. james; [It reigned not upon the earth iij. years and jam. 5▪ 1●…. vi. months:] He did read it thus: [It reigned not upon the earth one, one, one years, and five, one, months.] The King observed this reading, and afterwards rebuked his Chaplain for it: But Guymund answered, that he did it of purpose, for that such readers were soon preferred by the King. The King smiled, and in short time after preferred him to the government of S. Frideswides in Oxeford. In this King failed the heirs male of King William the first: and then the Crown was possessed by Title of heirs general. In these times flourished two excellent ornaments of the Church; Anselm in England, and Bernard in France: both of them enroled in the list of Saints. And no less infamous for vice was Gerard, Archbishop of York; a man of some learning; not so much in substance, as in seeming and show; of commendable wit, which he applied chiefly, to give a colour for every vice of his own, and for every virtue of others either a slander or a jest: Of envious disposition; plagued less with his own calamities, then with the well either doing or being of other men; in wiping money from his Subjects by dishonest means, subtle and shameless; and no less sordid in his expenses: given to Magical enchantments as many do affirm. On a certain day as he slept upon a cushion after dinner, in his Garden at Southwell, and many of his chaplains walked near him; he was found in such a stiff cold dead sleep, as will require the trump of an Archangel to awake him. His face then looked with an ugly hell-burnt hue. His body was carried to York; few vouchsafing to accompany, none to meet it (according to the use of Exequys) when it came to the City; but the boys in scorn throwing stones at the hearse. He was basely buried without the Church; without any funeral solemnities, without any sign either of honour or of grief. Escapes. Pag. Lin. Errat. Correct. 7 17 Tresuy Tresuy 15 7 for strength of defence of strength for defence 17 17 in hand with hand 41 12 Trojan Tr●…iane 68 1 Beaumant Beaumonte 70 8 example excellent example 71 25 defiled de●…iled 75 7 Morcher Morchar 77 11 blow of an arrow bow and arrow 84 11 204 200 18 those these 102 5 become became 19 but upon but by 104 13 Boline Bologne 113 4 Pontoife Pontoise 121 11 Castilion Chastilion 127 19 Bow Bough 146 8 Aescanius Ascanius 188 4 ranks rank 201 4 the place that place 209 in marg. principium principum 216 in marg. fata fato 260 7 hose house 279 8 this his 283 18 with great pleasure deal.